March 2003
Now that we have a bit of a reprieve from gift-giving with Valentine’s Day a distant bloody memory, I thought I’d offer some gift-giving advice….some very specific gift-giving advice. Here it is – portraits of the gift-recipient are not good gifts.
Did you get it? It was very quick. But you know the gifts which I’m writing about. You walk by the portrait artist in the mall whose hand is a blur of skin-toned charcoal and you think to yourself, “Hey, what a great gift idea.” Okay – right here, I’m with you. Yes, a gift of art is a wonderful gesture. It’s creative. It’s unique. It won’t shrink in the wash or require watering. Let’s go for it. So – you start to peruse the portrait artist’s collection…Cher? No, too eighties. A soft pastel of Justin Timberlake? No, too many sad memories for Britney. A pencil drawing of that adorable Asian baby the mall portrait artist is drawing right now? No, too personal.
Now here is where a critical decision is made and more often than not, it’s the wrong decision. What you should do at this fork in the road is reach into your own wallet, pull out your own driver’s license, hand it to the mall portrait artist and say, “Do you think you could do something with this photo?”
But you know what really happens, don’t you? Yes – you run home, rifle through your bedside table drawer or the tupperware container of all of last year’s photos, to find that one of your beloved where she’s smiling into the camera with such love, such honest emotion. And you think to yourself, “Yes, this is the photo I want the mall portrait artist to recreate for my beloved. She will love it.”
Alright – this is where I have to stop you and speak up for the beloved, girl beloved, boy beloved – it’s of no consequence. There are no gender lines when it comes to this kind of gift – no one wants it. But speaking as a female who enjoys the female so much, I’ll keep using the pronoun for the second person feminine, yes?
Cut to the day of the gift-giving. The holidays, Valentine’s Day, her birthday – whatever the celebration – the mood is light, you’re both having fun, maybe there are some drinks involved. You’re both enjoying each other’s company so much – until the gift is given. You hand her the wrapped frame – it’s about 11 x 17. She looks at it and then back at you, quizzically. Maybe she giggles a little apprehensively, “It’s so…big.” But you don’t hear the apprehension. All you hear is “This is the best gift ever. She’s going to think this is the best gift she’s ever got…EVER!” And then she tears the paper right down the center of the frame so that she’s staring herself in the face. But not just her face – a brightly color penciled version of her face with soft charcoal smudges of red for her cheeks and single strands of yellow for her hair.
“Here it is. She’s going to love it, love it, LOVE IT!” you think. But…she’s not saying anything. She’s just staring at it. Her brain physically overheating trying to find a way to quickly convert the inner scream that’s echoing through her entire body into two simple words of thanks. She puts it down. Looks up at you, smiles weakly….”Thanks. I’ve never gotten a portrait of myself before. That was very…..thoughtful of you. You must have thought a lot about that.” And then you launch into the story about how you just walked past the mall portrait artist, and it hit you, and whatever else you yabber on about because you just can’t get over how clever a gift it is.
Here’s the problem – in a nutshell. We don’t want portraits of ourselves. Ever. Only politicians and people who own restaurants want portraits of themselves. Yes, we’d love portraits of you. We’d hang them up gladly in the entryway of the home or the den or wherever! But of ourselves? Then we have to find the place where we’ll least connect with our own acrylic/oil/charcoal/pencil/pastel -ed vacant gaze. For me – mine is in the kitchen. I’m not in there too much so I don’t lock eyes with myself too much – or with the eyes of my cat which I’m also holding in the portrait.
Really – stop this form of gift-giving. It causes so much anxiety. We don’t want portraits of ourselves. Truly. If I had a nickel for every person this has happened to – well…I’d have fifteen cents. But my point is – a portrait of the gift-recipient is not a good gift. It is a gift albatross. Please help put an end to it.
