Oil on Canvas
I just discovered a sketchbook from the 60s when I was in college. It is filled with drawings, portraits of people I actually recognize, and many random, disorganized notes from readings, classes, and thoughts. I am struck by how much of today's me I recognize. What touched me then, touches me now. One page is just a series of staccato ink marks. At the top is written, "Scarlatti -- I love you." And then one whole page on which is written, "Union Street. Home sweet home." That brings tears to my eyes. Home has always been where my heart is. Some things never change.