Looking through my old drawing
books helps me to recall fond memories.
Was a time when I carried my drawing books with
me and they became visual diaries. I tried to capture something
every day with my pens and watercolors ...
I was finding my way on my own as a wandering artist.
It was in the autumn when I had moved from Boston
to Marblehead...
a little room on the 2nd floor of an old house with
slanting floors in an apartment I shared with two
others and a cat belonging to one of them named Aboo.
I recall that the man who lived above us grew vegetables on the
roof of the the house and buckets of
dirt could be see through our kitchen window being
hoisted up to the roof!
"Aboo"
It was on a street in the Old Town between the harbor
at the bottom of the street
books helps me to recall fond memories.
Was a time when I carried my drawing books with
me and they became visual diaries. I tried to capture something
every day with my pens and watercolors ...
I was finding my way on my own as a wandering artist.
It was in the autumn when I had moved from Boston
to Marblehead...
a little room on the 2nd floor of an old house with
slanting floors in an apartment I shared with two
others and a cat belonging to one of them named Aboo.
I recall that the man who lived above us grew vegetables on the
roof of the the house and buckets of
dirt could be see through our kitchen window being
hoisted up to the roof!
"Aboo"It was on a street in the Old Town between the harbor
at the bottom of the street
and the shops at the top.
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