My father the artist, by Tia Crabtree
I recently went to my father’s house and saw these lovely watercolors on the wall. I found this to be rather intriguing, his walls are typically blank, most likely due to his PTSD after having eight kids and wall clutter. I was shocked to know that he created them in an art class. “What?” My father, who is the most loving man donating most of extra time to kids at the Y, took time for himself and went to an art class at eighty-years old. Bless his heart, he his talented and I wanted to steal them. He wouldn’t have it, obviously I am not his only child.
(photo of an art class at Eagle Art Gallery)