This sketch was completed while sitting near a window of my hotel room. Occasionally, I enjoy experiencing the atmosphere of a late night especially in a city.
When I was a boy in rural Arkansas, our family was deeply poor. Poverty has the power of isolation. It removes children from classmates. So the open fields, woods, and creeks were my close friends that I shared these friends with my brother. During our adventures and explorations, occasionally, a visitor would appear: an airplane streaming a trail of white vapor against the sky. I found the visitor amazing.
I often pondered the lives of the people traveling in the planes and I always weaved uplifting tales. The passengers were always traveling to a lost love or a warm reunion. They were never running form anything.
Today when I am in the hotel room viewing a cityscape, I ponder the lives of people traveling in vehicles, walking streets, or sleeping soundly in beds. I prefer to think that they are traveling to a happy greeting or they are peacefully sleeping near their beloved.
Though the truth is hasher than my idealism, I still prefer my silly dreams.
1 comment:
I think you should go through any sketches, paintings, drawings, etc. and gather those you think would best represent your life story and put them together with your words from your heart and write a book, Larry.
:)
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