My father with me and my son Christopher
the summer before my father died.
My Dad really loved Christopher.
doubly sad. My father died on September 11, years before the
planes hit the towers. In class we'll talk about how the world has
shifted in North America since that day. Many of the students'
families will have experienced either the loss of a relative, or the
suspicion and racism leveled at certain groups who are often
suspect just because of their religion, or country of origin.
And then we'll move on. Because now 8 years later, it's
certainly time that we do. It seems fitting though, somehow that
I'm working on painting a couple who are in love. It's a large
painting, and in real life the father is dead, and the mother no
longer young. As I work, I am deeply moved by the great love the
couple had, evidenced in every photo of them together. And I think
this is one of the surprising benefits of what I do -- that I can make
them live again, as a young happy couple.
Have a remembering-the-people-who-matter day
