I was looking at old
pictures last night as everything was transferred over to this computer. It was such a sadness to realize most of the
friends I saw were dead. This doodle was
done when the kids and I were living in “DSA” on Abbot Street.*
My doodles are intermixed
with acres of photographs. One gift they
give me is memory.
I dearly loved my old Datsun
sports car with its 200 some miles on it.
I would spend all my time and money trying to keep it going. As fast as I repaired on thing, another would
break. Mother was at a VW dealer one day. She saw this zippy little tan hatchback and
thought it would be perfect for me. I
had just told the Datsun that if one more thing broke, I would trade it
in. The windshield wipers stopped
working. Mother and I met in the middle.
At least I could diagnose
and fix my beloved sports car. The VW
was far more modern. With its early computer,
it became a millstone around my neck.
Any time I look at this doodle, I not at all fondly remember this car.
Do you have a special
photo or drawing that triggers some firm memories.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
- Himself: Got really behind with his work yesterday because of all the phone calls.
- Myself: Laundry…sheets and towels too.
- Doodles: I still miss my little Datsun. These two were done in 1978.
- Reading: I really have to finish that Bransetter but don’t want him to die.
- *: It really was called Dog Shit Acres.
- Gratitude’s: I can’t remember who I asked to lead tonight’s meeting. Let’s hope I wrote it down somewhere.
Having nor formal art training my drawings are pretty simple and basic. I did take one class that was given for elementary school teachers and it was one of my favorites. Love that hammer hanging there...was it for pounding on the walls of noisy neighbors?
ReplyDeleteThat was a great place to keep a hammer. Ours is always misplaced!
ReplyDeleteOh, now I get it, you meant the color doodle, with "millstone" around your neck. I couldn't make the connect between car and bookcase.
ReplyDeleteI once kept a hammer, with the head painted Irish green, on a bookshelf. The man who fancied himself head of the house was forbidden to touch it, ever. The same hammer now lives in a basked on my clothes dryer.
ReplyDeletePerhaps you can stand to introduce your speaker as anonymous as yet, and invite them to stand.
LOL Glad yoou like my hammer. It's right across the room in a plastic box marked tools.
DeleteThe person I chose is to speak for five minutes on a topic of his choice...sitting. :)
I don’t sketch or etch but I sure like your drawings. Camera photos I have do bring memories and some with interesting stories. But
ReplyDeletethen there are stories I have for which I wish had some associated photos — they’re only in my memory art gallery.
I would unhesitatingly call your doodles art.
ReplyDeleteI am always amazed at the detail of your sketches. Know what you mean, when cars got computers, they lost me even for basic maintenance. I've been lucky though and never had one become a millstone.
ReplyDeleteI can't even draw a straight line with a ruler!
ReplyDeleteMy Mother was an artist, as is my sister. I was always outside, climbing trees or up into the hayloft hunting for the latest litter of barn cat kittens.
I wish I had room for a bedroom bookcase...or even a living room bookcase lol.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Anvilcloud. Your doodles are 1,000,000 times above what anyone would call doodles. They are beautiful art pieces. You are so darn talented.
ReplyDelete