Since 1966, I have carried the lamp with me. It was the bench lamp at my father’s garage. I took it to college for my architecture classes and then stored it while I was in Europe from 1971 until 1977. Since 1977 the lamp has been in storage—and has moved every time I have moved.
Today was an emotional day for me.
I finally, after 50 years, reinstalled the lamp on my work table. It is the talisman from my father. Now as I work on my journal and prepare sketches for new paintings, the light for my father’s history will shine on my paper. His light.
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