Every so often I will post a memory I have of my childhood and growing up on 24th Street in Erie, Pennsylvania. These are usually sketched out very quickly. I actually drew this while we were at the beach this morning.
For some reason I thought back to a time in the early 70s when my dad broke both his arms trying to push his car out of a ditch. He was miserable, not only because of the obvious pain but also because he was unable to work for an extended period of time.
The image that is burned into my mind during this time is that of my dad sitting on a low cot in the front upstairs sun porch, smoking cigarettes, reading the newspaper which was laid out in front of him and an old GE fan propped in a window, slowly turning
for what seemed like days on end.
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