father

My father was pretty much what I have become. 
He was a curious soul, and loved working with physical things. By that I mean things that could be pasted onto paper, like transfer type. You don't see that anymore these days, in fact most of what he did, taught, professed in, and wrote about has been replaced by computers.
Which is i suppose why he made me. Because I'd take up that new generalational thinking, and turn all of his swishes of the brush into flicks of the mouse.

But my father learned to do it all by hand.

Each
And
Everey
Step.

There was no record of his time before he met my mommy. I've seen some pictures. He dated this girl who was kind of fat and unattractive Ugly, I'd say,  but I am not a judge. Or a dog. He was, although he'd never admit it. He didn't like dogs. Maybe too much competition.  He felt inferior so he boosted up his game, and knew more about his subject than the average joe, so he could speak at length about subjects. mostly art, and how to make it, and re-create it. He took me and Rebecca ( mommy) to art galleries around New York City, where I now live, and did his ultimate best to show us that he KNOWS what is bright brilliant and beautiful.

It's weird in a way, he knew what was beautiful, but could not touch or create it. He could only talk about, and describe it. But at the very end of his life, I will send you some pictures, he painted what he saw that he loved. Mostly landscapes, some banrs. things you would take casuals note of and pay no more attention to, but my father had a deeper eye, a vision that cherished the usual, and turned it into the love.

Not so much Art for art's sake, but how to put together a really nice looking portrait of something you want to sell, and really, that what what he ultimately wanted to get hired to do. Make nice pictures of things to sell.