Finding a Place to Stand...

Found a nice little 1934 Lincoln Wheat Penny in the dryer today when I pulled my shirts out of the dryer at the apartment laundrymat. I wonder what places (and pockets) it's been during its lifetime...


Got an Archimedes quote (of sorts) in my fortune cookie the other day:
"Find a place to stand, and move the world."
Haven't found it yet...could say that that is my main work-in-progress.


The sketches I posted today are more of those ideas from that ongoing personal projects concept library that have been drifting around in my mind, some for many years...some going through revision after revision of mental sketching before I finally actually put them down on paper. For example, a couple are from a story I first read when I was 11 years old, way back in the summer of '76. Others are from more recent random blips of inspiration. Somehow, survival and the daily grind of work (gotta pay those bills!) always got in the way.


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My Uncle Al died.

It's been close to 15 years, possibly longer, since I've seen him. I did hear about him now and again, from either my cousin (his daughter), or my aunt (his 2nd ex-wife and my mom's sister).

One of the earliest memories I have of this uncle (one of the four men that was actually part of what I consider my immediate circle of family when I was growing up), was when I was about 4 years old. My mother, my 2 yr-old baby sister and I were visiting him, my aunt and my cousin who was just a couple of months older than me. At some point during those first few days, my uncle found out that my little sister still liked to suck her thumb; especially when she was upset and definitely when she was napping. He didn't like that. How did I know? My uncle Al told me that if he caught her sucking that thumb while she was napping, he would cut it off. And as he told me this, he took out his pocket knife and folded out the blade so that I could see what her thumb would get cut off with. Terrified, I remember standing next to my sister's bed during that nap, reaching over to pull her thumb out of her mouth at least twice, maybe more, before my aunt discovered me doing so and asked me why. I told her that Uncle Al had told me that he would cut her thumb off if he caught her sucking on it again, and I didn't want that to happen. My aunt scolded my uncle the rest of the day for that bit of fun.

I was such a gullible kid.

He did tell me later that he was just kidding...