The Rosamonds
09-Oct-2015
Kim Robinson
For years I’ve cherished two beautiful framed Rosamond prints. The first one hung in one of my first living rooms, directly above the couch. After I received the second, I grouped them together in the pink room of another home. Forever paired, they now hang in a corner of my bedroom where I can see them upon waking.
The Rosamonds have always spoken to me, their delicate graceful lines tracing the faces of two different women. Something about the way the artist sketched them speaks volumes about the character of the person drawn. I feel as though I could almost describe their lives at that point in time. Each of them represents distinct periods in my life, reminding me how far I’ve come on this journey called life.
The first one is of a young girl barely in her twenties, head resting on her slender arms draped over the edge of a sofa. Her long brown hair flows down over the back of the sofa, and her large blue eyes capture you with their soulful depth. I met the young man who gave me “Blue Ice” during a phase of trying to find myself. Having been miraculously converted by meeting Jesus the Christ, when I met this man I was still struggling with a lifestyle that no longer fit and wondering what God was going to do with my life. Together we had some adventures but quickly parted ways. His choices ended in death at a fairly young age. Mine led me to adult responsibilities, a beloved job and boss, and the desire to make a difference.
“Simone” is the name of the second print. It is smaller, the woman framed by an oval mat which accents the shape of her face. She is probably in her early thirties, with short curly hair, a kind smile that hints at sadness, and piercing eyes. The woman who gave me Simone was someone I loved dearly. That chapter of my life brought marriage, children, and for a while stability. I careened down some unexpected bends in the road during those years but God brought me through, giving me a stronger faith and an even stronger desire to make a difference, especially with my writing.
I’ve always believed my prints were created by Tasha Tudor’s mother, and I loved that connection because of her books and illustrations that I’ve shared with my children and grands over the years. The giver of Simone told me that the Rosamond of my prints was Rosamond Tudor – born in the 1800’s and mother of children’s author/illustrator Tasha Tudor whose work I loved. That Rosamond was an inventor, a steam launch engineer, strong-willed feminist pioneer, and accomplished artist in her own right. A very different woman than the Rosamond who actually drew the prints I own. Until a couple of months ago I never knew about the other Rosamond, the artist whose work hangs in my home.
After some needed roof repairs are finished in a few weeks, we are going to repaint our bedroom. As I pondered what paint color to select and whether to re-hang the Rosamonds in the same corner or re-locate them, it occurred to me that I could look them up on the web and find out the names of the drawings. After a few minutes of Googling I discovered some things about Rosamond Tudor that I didn’t know but nothing about the drawings. Then I spotted a small picture at the bottom of the search results screen. It was my young girl on the sofa, drawing me to her with those soulful eyes.
Forbidden to draw by her parents from an early age for fear of stealing her less-talented brother’s spotlight, Christine Rosamond was unable to express her art until she started school. Her kindergarten teacher remembers that Christine’s work had detail and perspective even then. The more I read about this Rosamond’s life the more connection I felt. Our mothers have the same name. She too knew her primary passion from an early age. She too was rebellious as a teen, finding success with her craft later in life. She too had a failed marriage. She too had fears about what expressing herself with her talent would reveal. She too had her most productive period as an artist during the happy years when she felt safe and loved. Like one of the characters in my book, she had an unsafe parent, but she found emotional healing and personal insight by God’s grace and with the passage of time. Her art became reflective of the supportive women in her life, her drawings beautiful thank-you’s to them and a testimony to their influence. Her tragic drowning at the age of 46 laid her pencils to rest forever.
The pictures draw me to them in a new way now. I understand why the depth of the artist’s passion is almost a tangible thing when I gaze at them. I am almost persuaded that my owning them is part of the master plan for my life, visible reminders of where I’ve been, not where I’m going. I’m not sure which wall they will grace after the painting is done and the room put back together, but they will always hold a special place in my heart.
Kim Robinson is an author living in Austin, TX. She and her husband have six children and fourteen grandchildren and enjoy spending time with family. Passionate about parenting, she writes and speaks about a variety of issues facing parents and professionals dealing with teenagers in crisis. She enjoys speaking at retreats and to various organizations.
Kim's debut novel, Chased by Grace - A Story of Survival, is available now.