Sitting in the patio

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As I wait on my faux instapot, feeling guilty that I’m not exercising.

Shoe: why don’t you put me on and go for a walk?

I notice one of my dad’s handmade frames with a painting I did a did a long time ago. So long that I don’t even remember painting it.  If you look around the house, you’ll see the many handmade frames he built. Many holding my paintings I did when I was young.

I don’t even remember what I painted this for.

This is the painting I don’t remember painting but I’m sure I did it because it reminds me of Grandpa Nakamura.

from foundation color class, many moons ago

Another frame my dad made on a painting from a foundation color class, learning how to work in grays from Two Callas by Imogen Cunningham 1925.

no sure if this is one of Mom’s anthuriums
I think this is late 70s

A couple more frames made by my dad. I think all of the frames were made out of redwood to match the wood of the house. He was McGyver back. Only wish he could still do a little of what he did then.

I hope my reminiscing of when I use to do things without no fear. Sparks an idea to start a new project. Maybe something to replace those old pieces.

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