the sterling roses of big sur
Sterling had never had his portrait painted. His father, a one time artist now embittered angry sage of the back woods bar, painted portraits of all of his children, except for his eldest, who received a more visceral sort of affection. He was a masculine man, in his thirties, but had the demeanor of an ignored teenage boy who liked to spit and
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Contents of my latest entry, directed at Portlanders:
"spimby-- who I don't know at all in real life-- is moving VERY SOON from Portland to Florida. He has two cats he can't take with him. Can any of you take one or both of them in, or do you someone who can?
If he can't find someone to adopt them, they're going to the Humane Society, where they'll most likely be killed."
Hope all's well with you. I'll be in Portland for some part of April-- maybe our paths will cross again....
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