There's no place like ............................ Pattys

 

This is my good friend Pattys childhood living room in our hometown.  She drew this picture and I never quite finished painting it. That boxy brown record cabinet in the upper left quadrant held the movie score to our summers. It swung around like a paperback stand in an old school drugstore. 

It’s a Stanford White house, very big and comfy and a place I dream about at least a few times a year. Her parents were hardly ever there. I lived a block away during college and spent hours and weekends in this room listening to music, smoking pot and talking with my buds about where we were in our lives and where we wanted to go. It was a vivid, defining time full of angst and wonder. It's a photo album inside my skull I still access when I want to remember some heady days. I should finish painting it and put it in a frame.