Contrary to the hollow echo, I'm still here.
I've been back in Maine visiting my family.
Two days into it, my sister had a stroke.
She's okay now, but it was a reality check for us all.
If lobster counts, we did a lot of self-medicating.
The weather was as beautiful as only Maine
can serve up in August.
Then that bad girl, Irene,
delayed our flight back to Boulder.
I'm being as stoic as us down-easterners are supposed to be
when I say,
it was a hell of a vacation.
I found this large acrylic hanging
in my dad's workshop in the basement.
I painted it in my parents' guest room the summer of 1969.
The world was in upheaval.
Five months later, I dropped out of college
and moved to Colorado.
As you can tell, breathing was important.