Friday night. Building to myself. In my weakened state, Rod set me up to paint from the easy chair before he left for the evening. Trying to paint my friend’s grandpa. Ended up looking like someone I miss. If you see him, send him my way. 6’4” slender in a baseball cap instead of a fedora. Claire is behind me on her nighttime studio perch, giggling to the more upbeat Elton John lyrics on my best of playlist, but trying to sleep.