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STUDY FOR BOY AND BOOK
(10x8 inches - charcoal and pastel on panel)
I'm just painting daily, not posting daily. Also not necessarily completing a painting daily.
This is my brother, Larry. He's ten years older than me. My first remembrance of Larry took place somewhere between my being 2-years and 5-years-old. I know this because, when I was in kindergarten, we lived in the house on Mulberry Street. This event took place when we lived on Stubbs Mill Rd. I didn't walk until I was almost 2-years-old (some kind of problem with one of my legs not growing.) Anyway, I remember that Larry made us (me and my sisters) Superman outfits for our Troll Dolls. I thought he could do anything. I was right...he is a genius!
I went to Bonita's show tonight at Closson's. It was a great show. I met the neatest lady there. Her name was Sue. In September she and her husband will be married 51 years. I found Sue to be fascinating. I hope we meet again someday.
The fellow got out of his truck, of course my eyes were glued on him in the side mirror of my car. That's when I noticed that he was looking back at me in the side mirror. He walked to the back of his truck and reached into the bed. He pulled out these gloves (I forget now what type they were, but, for the sake of this story, and because I really do think this is true, they were like those
big yellow rubber gloves you use for dishwashing). All the while looking back at me in my side mirror. He put the gloves on and then reached into the bed of the truck and pulled out an empty bread bag. He put it over one of his gloves. He found another bag and did the same with the other glove. Looking at my eyes, looking at his eyes. (Needless to say, now my imagination has totally gotten the better of me. It was almost as though I could hear Bill Cosby telling his Chicken Heart story, only now, it was my heart doing the loud pounding.)
At this point I'd reviewed every conceivable plan for escape and had already decided that since my windows were electric, and I drove a stick shift, there was no way to roll them up, and I certainly couldn't dump all the painting supplies, boxes, etc. and jump over the console wearing a skirt. I was trapped.
BOMP-BOMP!!! BOMP-BOMP!!! My heart raged on. (Of course, in my mind, I was calling on the name of the Lord...don't let this guy hurt me, and help me be a witness to him if he doesn't know You.)