John Gordon painted twelve eggs. Somewhere between egg nine and ten, he told me, “I’m going to do a dozen of them. And then I’m going to get them out of my life.” The eggs were laid by his own chickens. Each week I would buy a dozen from him, packaged in cartons with a sticker that showed an ink sketch of the chickens, and the caption “laid by chickens with names.”
John Gordon's Eggs
John Gordon's Eggs
John Gordon's Eggs
John Gordon painted twelve eggs. Somewhere between egg nine and ten, he told me, “I’m going to do a dozen of them. And then I’m going to get them out of my life.” The eggs were laid by his own chickens. Each week I would buy a dozen from him, packaged in cartons with a sticker that showed an ink sketch of the chickens, and the caption “laid by chickens with names.”