Here is one of many I will paint for my friend Dan’s going away party in June. It’s what I can do. I hope that many show up to the extravaganza to purchase them at high bids—all the money will go to him with the promise to feed my family whenever we come for a visit.
Dan is a giver and receiver. However, in this life, he has given more of himself than anyone I have heard about—including Buddha and St. Francis.
This painting is the story of his step grandfather’s chair Dan brought to me last year. It has saved my back. I have painted more dutifully because of it. Anyway, Dan’s grandmother was abused by this man for many years of her life. The day he had a heart attack, and fell off the chair onto the floor, she waited a half hour to call the paramedics. They pronounced him dead at the scene, and yet he could have carried over to the next world with cherished love and pride if he just refrained from locking her up in a room whenever the urge overtook him.
Boys will be boys, and sometimes privately express themselves as squealing piglets terrified of the day-to-day world.