That Way and That
by Steve Mitchell
I have a crick in my neck. But oh well.
I open my iPad and resume work on a painting. It’s of my dad from a photo of him as a toddler.
Well, it’s a digital copy of the photo.
It’s a digital painting I paint.
He was an analog toddler.
And I’m struck by the photo, how much he looked like me at that age, how much he looked like Alec.
I loose track of time. I’m absorbed.
The sun goes down.
My wife texts me from the gym; she’s almost done. She’s almost home.
What time is it?
I close the iPad for the day. I come back to the world. I close the living room blinds.
And you know what else?
I have a crick in my neck.
orange blossoms –
the first evening
© Steve Mitchell 2017