While I'm typing this, Ade and Peter are intensely discussing NBA players and teams...they are always on opposite sides of the argument when it comes to sports, each one talking rapidly and overlapping speech...some father-son bonding ritual that gives me a headache. In earlier days this would take place on some nearby street corner or neighborhood pub or some garage...but at the kitchen table over coffee and cereal seems invasive to my head. I'm recalling a lecture given by bell hooks to architecture students (i crashed the lecture) that theorized to what extent outdoor and indoor spaces where claimed by gender.
I woke up very early and sat on the balcony surrounded by Peter's tomato jungle and watched a teeny tiny spider bounce up and down, little by little, off of a vine, but I'm feeling listless. To settle myself I printied on the fabrics that were soaked in the Bubblejet and Golden Digital Grounds that I mentioned previously...as I sip gulp my coffee I"ll upload the comparisons...hold on.
Visually, the difference is negligible . The Digital Ground image is a little sharper and it makes the paper feel and behave more like art paper instead of cloth, stiffer but breathable, unlike using a gel medium. Between the 2, my perference is the cloth with the digital grounds for the feel of it. These are on cotton.
Last summer, sister blogger Marie, shared her results. (Click on her name to see.)
Daddy's service and beautiful and a sweet but short family gathering. I loved two of the stories shared by one of his CB buddies, a Rev. Woods, who has lived in Michigan for the last eleven years and just so happened to be in Louisville for a family reunion. He shared how my father, some decades ago, got him started with his CB passion and how much he loved talking to my father, Groundhog, via the radio. The other older gentleman, told a railroad story and its what he left out that made the story even funnier for those who knew him.
I dreamt about him last night...he was dressed in the suit we buried him in but was in front of the casket carrying it with the 6 pallbearers. He was walking down Broadway and when he passed 26th street he turned into this huge rugged field of gold and green patches of grass. It was midday and my father was taking firm steps and said "people need to understand that patience is needed in times like these". There was a huge, huge crowd waiting for him and cleared a path for him to enter a white building that sat back and off to the side in the field. I arrived in a limo but had gotten off of work and into the crowd and was hoping that no one would recognize me. I fell in step behind the casket after my father arrived. I remember having the feeling that I wanted to blend in with the crowd but I wasn't a part of the crowd.
When I awoke I thought, its just like Daddy to find something to do to keep him busy. :)
The hugs and prayers are appreciated very much.