The Square Root of 2

click image to enlarge


This is what my father was like. One day when I was twelve I went with him on Saturday morning to my Aunt Mary’s house to have coffee. While we were having coffee my father said, “The’re are cracks in the ceiling.”

My aunt said, “We keep patching them up, but they just keep coming back.”

The next Saturday I went with my father to a construction yard where he bought plaster and some lath. Then we went to my Aunt Mary’s for coffee, after which he pulled down the whole ceiling, nailed up the lath, and spread a coat of plaster over it.

When he was done the ceiling was dark brown. I asked him, “Why is the ceiling brown?”

“It’s the base coat,” he said, “next Saturday we will put up the finish coat.”

That was 1956. The next year my father died. He was forty five.

When I was forty five I went to visit my Aunt Mary on a Saturday morning for coffee. We got to talking about my father. She said, “You know, your father put up this ceiling and plastered it.”

“I remember.” I said.

“You know what was odd about it though,” she went on, “When he cut the lath he mitered all the corners.”

“Why not miter them”, I said, “After all, you have to cut them anyway.”

A strange expression crossed my Aunt’s face and she said, “Those were your father’s exact words at the time.”

So that explains the idea behind this drawing of the square root of two.

The notion that things can actually go on forever.

"The Square Root of Two" oil on canvas 2002, 10.5" x 8" signed on the back
Location: Britell Studio, Pittsfield, Ma. $1200.00