Today I'm sewing with black beads on a" Day of the Dead" piece. My father passed away late last night, he was 90 and I'm glad that he was able to die peacefully in his own bed. It's weird that this is what I've been working on. My dad would like this piece. I remember how he always brought flowers to my mom like clockwork when the ones in the vase started to wilt. He was a talented artist and his medium of choice was block prints. Here's a portrait he did many years ago for some occasion.
He had a very unique sense of style and his work was always very much his own. His atoms are mingling with my moms now. He leaves Mag, Dave and I with lots of crazy memories and a true closeness for each other, not geographically, but with a loving family bond.
