Growing up, we had a reproduction of Andrew Wyeth's Christina's World in our playroom. When I was very young I used to think it was a picture of my mother. When I was five, I remember feeling sorry for her disability. At nine, I was uncomfortable that she lived in such a dry, desolate place. When I see it now, I wonder why we had that painting in our playroom.
Also, check out the dishy history surrounding his Helga Pictures