There aren't many. And most of them are of me. There was once a very beautiful portrait he did of my mother which disappeared a long time ago.

At the bottom of the page you will find the reproductions of some likenesses of my father .

All the portraits of me, with the exception of the last one, were painted in the 1940s, before I entered my teens.

 

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My mother wasn't as melancholy as these sketches imply. Nor are these exact likenesses of her. "My mother occasionally commented to me that after they met she always appeared in his women. And this is true. Her face or figure is always somehow present and something of her spirit profoundly influenced the way he saw women. He was fascinated by the way she folded her arms beneath her head when she lay down and by the languorous mood she created when she adjusted her body and legs to make herself comfortable. And in the relaxed, unguarded mood that her face and body created, reposed in such a way, he seemed to see the calm and poetic sadness of all woman-flesh confronting life. It is a powerful mood and it appears frequently in one form or another in his work."

From Waiting at the Shore