Bellows c. 1936

Edna Rex made this drawing of a bellows—I wonder when. Look at the way she’s used watercolor to suggest light falling on the wooden surface, how she’s carefully observed the object’s form and proportions. I try to imagine Rex sitting with her sketchbook, patiently capturing all the details of this everyday object. I feel a sense of quiet contemplation—of slowing down and really looking. There’s a tenderness in how she’s rendered the subtle gradations of color. It reminds me of Morandi, who spent his whole life painting the same bottles. There’s something radical in that kind of sustained attention. Rex seems to be asking, what does it mean to truly see something? What can be revealed through the act of close observation and patient rendering? It’s a reminder that artists are always learning from one another, across time and place, and that even the humblest of objects can be a source of endless fascination.