Thoughts on May in March.

I remember the first time I saw a Bluebird I was with my Father at a prairie plot in Northern Illinois. It was ages ago, But I can still recall his delight in spotting that bird on a fence line one afternoon in May. He pointed it out and fast forward some 20 years and that delight is shared quite regularly. Thanks Dad.
Painting Bluebirds while sitting on a chair in Oakland, CA.
Penciled last night while watching cartoons and eating junk food.

Penciled last night on 1/8 inch birch plywood.

My Dad once told me "Home is where you are."

My Dad once told me “Home is where you are.”

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