Oil pastel on paper, texted sintra
19.5” x 27.5”
Feb. 18, 2004
Ice Bucket Feb 18 2004
Every evening my Dad would come home from work and eventually make his way to the bar where he would crack open a whole tray of ice and dump it into the ice bucket. Then he made himself and my Mother a gin and tonic before dinner. It was a happy and relaxed time of day. The three of us sat in front of the T.V., my Dad to my left, my Mum to my right. My Mum always had her drink with lots of ice and a terry sock over the bottom of the glass to keep her hands from getting cold.