dad and old dishware

 

I'm thinking of painting this photo of my father -  he's twenty and about to be married and he's darkly dashing and soulful.  I think I'd like to see it everyday on my art wall. blurry black and white paint only- the only question is how big or small. 

and this bowl with the faded over fifty years flowers. it belonged to my friend Bill who I apt shared in the Village soon after we were hippie housemates in Ohio college. I think of him whenever I wash it, much like my plates that were my best friends until he died in 1990. Maybe thats why I like them so much. 

If bowls and plates remind you of someone you think of them often because you see and touch them all the TIME.