Thank you for hanging in there until I could come back to update you on my collages. Things have settled down for the moment with my family; hoping things improve quickly there.
Back to the far past, and my great-grandfather Taylor. You remember he fought on the Union side in Kentucky after either being freed, or escaping slavery. (I chose to paint over this image, since I have no actual photo of him).
After the war, Taylor worked as a farmer and hired hand. I imagine he really needed the work: he and his first wife had three children. Then with his second wife (my great-grandmother), Taylor had eight more kids.
So when a farmer refused to pay Taylor for his work, Taylor must've been thinking he couldn't go home empty-handed.
Instead, Taylor went home with three bullet wounds: on his neck, shoulder, and hip/groin. So the farmer who shot at him was telling Taylor -- who was probably "worth" between $800 and $1500 when he was considered property -- that his labor was of no value.
What a horrifying -- and horrifyingly common -- irony. And yet Taylor hung on, working around the bullet still left inside him, working around chronic pain his doctors recorded in his veteran's treatment record.
Courage was once honored with a crown of laurels. But since he lived and died in tobacco country, I've given my great-grandfather a crown of tobacco leaves. I've also ordered him a medal or two. Once I've added the finishing touches, you're invited to the medal ceremony.