Bath time with Ivory soap was a given as a kid of the 60’s and 70’s. At least it was in our house. After a long day (or week) outside playing tag, jumping rope, riding bikes and playing in the dirt making roads with match-boxes, taking a bath was inevitable. The soap seemed to be everywhere. In the kitchen, there was Ivory liquid. In the laundry room, there was Ivory Snow, and of course, the bathroom had its bars of Ivory. Ivory seemed to get you squeaky clean- the day’s dirt (or weeks, sometimes) would settle at the bottom of the tub, the Ivory floating on the top. It’s fresh, clean smell is one I will never forget. For this painting, I bought a few bars to photograph and suddenly, I was 8 again, covered in dirt and wanting to be squeaky clean.