Still in Benicia, October, still warm;
…and the famous American House, the one with its bright green lawn and instructions for dogs [though this presumes your dogs read English; if they only understand sign language your results may vary];
But maybe the “NO” is more appropriate for the sediments expressed on their fence, which strangely neglect mentioning this is all about [non-domestic] tarsands oil to be imported by rail…
Saturday ensues with old friends gone so long unseen the grandchildren have fully grown….
…and that same afternoon a wedding/street-feast celebrated within the Arsenal’s exuberant community of artists [Did i ever embrace such a thing? Doubtful; even there among the throng visions of the Smoke Creek Road dance in my head]
…nice to be included, perfect weather and so on into the night…
Sunday came the seldom-seen son, briefly in from Fort Hood and always welcome, inspiring a walk down along the water and subsequent leisurely lunch in the garden…
Bryan goes back to Texas, and another week rolls in…
yup, another…
M
Beautiful
My, the young master has matured. No surprise, really, what with the +/- 25 years since I last saw him.
Indeed he has…and is living a life we certainly couldn’t have predicted back then…
and living a life we can hardly imagine what’s it about…..something like “guardians of freedom” ??????
as for the other person (rather rare as you don’t often photograph people) unnamed,
one can’t but not observe an incredibly unblemished skin, and we presume it wasn’t done with foto shop
Ah yes, youth, not foto shop…that would be my good friend Beth’s granddaughter Fati, who came by to talk with Professor Fleming about art education…as for the other one, David knew him back on Third Street as a wee lad. No one could have predicted much of anything at that point, certainly not where he’s ended up today.