Remembering Robert George Etienne Through his Art
By Jackie Morreale

Every artist leaves something behind. Sometimes it is displayed in galleries, sometimes it hangs on the walls of a family home, and sometimes it lives through the hands of someone they inspired.

My name is Jackie Morreale, and I'm the host of Wisdom for Wannabes. This is the story of my grandfather, Robert George Etienne, through his art. This past Thursday, we celebrated his heavenly hundredth birthday. Many people knew him as a World War II veteran who earned a purple heart, a husband, and a father of eight children. But to me, he was Grandpa, and Grandpa was an artist.

Grandpa had a gift for finding beauty in everyday moments. He painted peaceful seascapes, flowers, fruit, simple scenes from didn't need grand subjects. He saw beauty in the ordinary.

Before he passed away in 2024, Grandpa gave me his travelling easel and oil paints.

After his passing, my grandmother, Mary Etienne, shared part of his painted plate collection with me. Those paintings became a connection to the artist that he was.

To honor Grandpa for his heavenly hundredth birthday, I decided to recreate four of his original acrylic paintings on plates in my own medium, soft pastels on paper. They are not exact copies, they are conversations across generations.

1: RED BOUQUET

The first one is drawing grandpa's red flower bouquet.

Before I even started, a gust of wind knocked over the heavy Lenox glass pitcher I was using to hold the flowers. It shattered across the wooden floor. After cleaning up the glass, I ended up cutting my left hand.

So yes, I literally bled for Grandpa's bouquet.

It isn't my favorite flower drawing but I love it because sitting there recreating grandpa's work, it felt like he was with me.

It became another special memory.

2: BLUE HYDRANGEA

The second drawing that I attempted to recreate was Grandpa's Blue Hydrangeas. Growing up in Long Island, New York, I remember seeing these beautiful flowers everywhere during the warmer months.

Grandpa's painting immediately transported me back there.

Simple joy of noticing something beautiful.

3: HIERLOOM TOMATOES

Drawing Grandpa's heirloom tomatoes. This painting was the one that made me appreciate Grandpa not only as my grandfather but as a true artist and creative genius. Grandpa grew heirloom tomatoes in his own backyard. He loved gardening, and I remember him always making tomato soup. Those memories are so him, but when I created this painting, I discovered something deeper.

I suddenly saw the artist behind the image. The painting is simple, quiet, almost understated.

But the more I looked, the more I noticed. The way the tomato reflected off the pot, the shape of the handle, the strong perpendicular lines between the wood grain and the way the light created depth and balance. What looked like a simple painting of a tomato was actually a lesson in composition, observation, and restraint.

After all these years, he's still teaching me how to see.

4: PEACHES

Part 4, drawing grandpa's peaches. Peaches and nectarines are my absolute favorite food to eat, which makes this painting especially meaningful. There's something magical about a fresh picked peach.

The soft texture, the sweet smell, the first bite filled with summer. As the warm oranges and golden colors, I wasn't just drawing fruit. I was remembering: imagining the taste, the smell, and the feeling of those moments again.

​That is the gift of art. It allows us to revisit the people and places we love, no matter where they are.

IMAGINATION EXERCISE:

As you look at these paintings, I invite you to imagine stepping into one of grandpa's scenes.

Imagine walking through a summer garden filled with blue hydrangeas. Feel the warm breeze. Notice the colors. Imagine reaching for a peach fresh from the tree, feeling its soft skin and tasting the sweetness of summer.

Taking in the beauty of something simple.

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IN LOVING MEMORY:

This is what grandpa's art gave me: a way to pause, a way to remember, and a way to feel connected across time.

My grandfather's paintings remind me that creativity is one of the greatest gifts that we can pass down.

An artist's life does not end when they are gone.

Their vision continues through the people they inspire.

Every time I pick up my pastels, I think about my grandpa. His easel, an actual palette, his paintings. His way of noticing natural beauty. And now his art continues through mine.

Happy heavenly 100th birthday, Grandpa!

Thank you for your service.

Thank you for your creativity.

​Thank you for teaching me to see the world a little bit differently.