Catharine Murat and her daughter Mercedes – and Vincent, her cute French bulldog – dropped by yesterday evening for a chat. We’d never met before, but Catharine was once upon a time close friends with my aunt Lillemor and to a degree, during her time living in L.A., also with my mother Ina (known by her friends as Cissi). And as if that wasn’t interesting enough, Catharine’s parents and my maternal grandparents were once close friends. This was in the 1940s up in Mellerud, Dalsland, and several years before grandfather Eskil and grandmother Agnes moved to Trollhättan. I forgot to ask, but I’ve always wondered why they moved to Trollhättan. What was the draw? Perhaps to give their four daughters an opportunity to attend better schools than what Järn and Mellerud could possibly have been able to provide at the time.
It was mostly as a sidenote, but Catharine mentioned how family history becomes increasingly interesting the older we get. I agree – at least to the extent that there isn’t too much tragedy involved. I feel that quota is filled to the brim.
Catharine’s daughter Mercedes, is a visual artist with an inspiringly unique portfolio of glass painted with noble metals and a wonderful collection of furniture art. I would love to visit her studio and galleri in the village of Valle, between Skövde och Skara. Hope that happens sometime soon. I’ve recently had a few extremely productive collaborative painting sessions with my buddy and neighbor, the artist Johan Carlsten. Suffice to say that I’ve [finally] seen the light [matured] and the apparent creative benefits of cooperating with fellow artists.
Photo credit: Charlotte Raboff