Pipe c. 1938

Manuel G. Runyan made this charming watercolour of a pipe sometime between 1855 and 1995. I can almost smell the paper—the dry, powdery pigment mixing with the water. I wonder what it was like for Runyan to make this? Was he thinking about the person who owned it, or the ritual of smoking itself? I feel the artist's hand in the subtle gradations of color, like when you keep going over and over the same area, until it seems like it’s breathing. Look at the warm browns and cool greys, the way they meet and blend to give the illusion of form. The stem is so straight and true, it must have been a labor of love. It makes me think about Morandi’s bottles, the way everyday objects can become these profound meditations on light, space, and form. Every artist is in conversation with those who came before, trying to find their own voice, their own way of seeing. And that’s the beauty of painting, isn’t it? It’s not about answers; it’s about the questions.