RANDY SIMMONS The Winter of My Discontent, 2023

RANDY SIMMONS  

The Winter of My Discontent, 2023 

48” x 50” 

charcoal and white conté 

$3,600 

@randysimmonsdrawings 

www.randysimmonsdrawings.com  

The title is inspired by a Bob Dylan song, “My Own Version of You”. 

While sifting through a zip-lock bag of photos, I found an old sepia toned image of my grandmother and my mom together on a flowered sofa from the mid 1970’s. The off-centered picture was probably taken by my dad. I can’t remember where this photo was taken, but my gut feeling this was my dad’s place he lived temporarily while my parents were separated at the time. As I looked closer into the photo, I sensed a hidden dialogue in their poses, composure and a bit by their clothing. There is something more here. 

Mom told me when she was a teen, her mother had to clean up after her daily as she tried on a lot of dresses before going to school and would leave the discarded ones lying on her bed. Mom mentioned that while she had chores, she still had it easy and her father adored her, bought her nice things, nice clothes, was good to her and she didn’t have to work as hard as her mother. Many times, mom told me how she secretly wore lipstick to school, although it was forbidden by her dad, and was caught one day when she forgot to remove it before getting off the bus. She told me that she thought her mom was jealous, and maybe rightfully so. I wondered if this didn’t trickle down to my grandmother disliking me. I was mom’s favorite and she didn’t hide it well. This grandmother put my brother on a pedestal and my sister was my dad’s favorite. In all my memories of my grandmother, I don’t have any positive ones. I was just the annoying neighbor’s kid. Only recently have I realized she never did anything to convey affection to me. No photos exist of just me and her. 

I started with the left figure, my grandmother, and drew her in angular shapes and harsher contrast. Her dark lips are pierced in a forced smile. I made her left hand clenched and sharpened the collar points on her shirt. Her knee protrudes forward and becomes a large blank white space. I added a pant crease to offset this. Her cloud forms emanating from her head are actually high altitude ice cirrus clouds. 

My portrait is from two different images: one was a Christmas photo, 1972 (?) of me wearing a toy NASA space helmet. The other was a wedding in which I was the ring bearer. Both of those photos were made within six months of each other. I loved the glare that eliminates my facial features on my oversized helmet. I drew myself in a simplified style. My pants become a cartoon. Positioned in the middle, I submit a peace offering between these two. I make small waves in the water we are all in, with the concentric circles turning into diamond shapes at the bottom. My grandmother and mom are perfectly still aside from the energy leaving their heads. 

Mom looks sensual. Her cloud forms are puffy storm cumulus clouds with a bright angelic glare around her head. She appears to be almost on fire. I took some liberties with mom’s attire. Her pants became shorts which eventually became a short miniskirt. I made her shirt a low cut lace v-neck. Her skin glistens. Her pose is relaxed and inviting. While their poses are similar, they’re subtly different. 

At the top, a peacock feather looms ominously over us, like an eye, watching, and mimicking the shape of my mom’s head. To the sides of the peacock feather, black holes are hiding in the darkness.