My Dad was an artist. My fondest childhood memories of him were at his easel. Cigar in one hand, paintbrush in another. He was the happiest man alive.. Singing ballads, painting and enjoying his daughter this one and only. Oh, can't forget his gourmet sardine sandwiches. How on heaven could he eat those.
I remember Saturday morning jaunts to art supply shops. Talking art lingo with fellow artists and little me by his side taking it all in (smiles.) I remember rows of oil based paints, large canvas', brushes and turpentine (how I hated that smell.) I remember my first pack of cray pas and sketch book. His accent and his sneaky kisses on my forehead. How I miss those moments even today.. no matter how much older I become, he's still my Daddy to me and I miss him very much.
It seems like yesterday.. many yesterday's and today when asked who inspired me to write my article for Gatherings Magazine spring issue "Artists and Artisans" only one artist came to mind my Dad whom would ask "Did you finish that drawing in your sketch pad? " and "Why not?" gasp.
.. and to this day I have a special fondness for the arts, artists, anything artsy, craftsy, just NOT turpentine and sardines! lol.
So, without further adu stop by Gatherings Mag and check out the Spring issue dedicated to some mighty fine artsy folks. You're going to just be blown away by the Spring issue.
In remembrance and dedication to my one and only artistic Dad.
Love and miss you always! xo