Back Door at Burbank Pastry

16"x12" oil on canvas Sometimes the plainness of something really catches my eye. Or, at least, lodges itself into my ever-dwindling memory bank. This doorway had deviously lodged itself into my brain, but I could not—for the life of me—remember where I had seen it. This drove me nuts and, of course, I punished those unfortunate enough to be within a three block radius of me with my being driven nuts. How The Spousal Unit kept herself from driving a knitting needle into the side of my neck, I shall never know (probably didn't want to stain her nice yarn). Then, one day whilst sitting in the car waiting for Her in the alley outside the post office, I looked in the rear view mirror and... there it was! Not only had I found it, but the door was open with a dumpster inside—what luck! I almost cried with happiness. You didn't ask because you are so considerate and kind, but here is the answer to what you are thinking: Yes, I lead a pitiful existence.

Posted August 11, 2015

No comments:

Post a Comment

Sign Up!