(party pics from this weekend’s festivities at: flickr.com/photos/sylvar/page3)
So my dad turned seventy, and we had the first surprise party that I can remember. It was a blast. Nina painted a 1937 Ford on a shirt. I got him some Hot Wheels for his collection. We had the whole family together again, and we got to draw on the tables at the restaurant. Good times.
I always wonder if our lives are single paintings in the grand scheme of things. Like we splatter ourselves on the canvas of eternity and leave some kind of funky inkblot when we are done. And then I wonder what mine would look like, and how it would be possible to expand my consciousness until I am able to view full lifetime images like that. If I figure it out, I’ll let you know.