Having the privilege of owning original art is a big part of my life. My daughter, Cynthia Hamilton and I are painters and our home is filled with our work; mostly mine in kitchen, living room and gallery. Hers are in her studio and in a gallery. We have scattered through out the house our collection of other artists' work. These works are dear to our hearts and move with us wherever we go.
Original art is the only art form where a piece of the artist's soul comes with it. Music is usually recorded and even though we can hear it over and over, it is still removed from the creator. We can own beautiful first edition books, but again, the DNA of the author does not accompany it. Photography can be breath taking, but still not intimately connected to the artist's touch.
So here is a part of our art collection; mostly owned by Cynthia and purchased by her. She was an art dealer in San Francisco for 18 years: