Watching time go by with a painting a day and showing others where to look.
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Saturday, June 21, 2008
My son and his dad
My son made it back from weeks in the Utah wilderness late last night. I caught a glance of him passing this painting of his father. My son is now 17 years old- his dad was 21 when I painted him. It takes my breath away. Am I destined to be witness to this march, this poetic march of time?