Would Grandma Moses Have Made a Good Census Worker?

Well, to quote the woman herself, "Hell yeah! You bet your sweet ass I would!" (Sorry, for the coarse language-her words, not mine) Honestly, I think Grandma Moses made just have made the most amazing census worker EVER. Let's examine my logic behind this conclusion.

1. If this woman knocked on your door, would you slam the door in her face? I didn't think so. If she meekly requested if she could ask you a few questions, could you turn her down? It is not humanly possible. Grandma Moses would be like the special agent the census would send in for difficult cases. "Send in Grandma Moses," they'd say. And the obstinate culprit wouldn't stand a chance.

2. She could adapt to a career change. She didn't start painting until she was in her seventies, becoming one of the most recognizable folk artists.
3. She was a hard worker. She produced over three thousand paintings before dying at the age of 101.

4. She is most comfortable scouting out rural areas.

5. The proof is in the pudding. And the pudding here is her art. Let's take a look. Here are some of my favorites.

Sugaring Off

The Quiliting Bee

Hoosick Falls in Winter

Hoosick River, Summer

Look at how she chronicles life! Isn't that what a census taker does? Tells us who lives here and what they do? She gives the viewer not just a glimpse, but a snapshot of that moment in time, chronicling with simple detail each home and resident. If she can do this with a paintbrush, imagine how thorough she could be with an enumerator's pencil and the correct forms!

I like Grandma Moses. Her paintings fill me with a peace. I came across a poem this week that I think harmonizes with her unmistakable style.

Solitude

by Alexander Pope

Happy the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire;
Whose trees in summer yield shade,
In winter, fire.

Blest, who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years, slide soft away
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day.

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mixed; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.