Friday, May 11, 2012

My Dad was raised in part by his grandparents. As the story goes, his grandad's first greeting of everyday, without fail, was day a lilting "morning". So, as a little guy, my dad called him 'Morning' because he thought that was his name.

Lately, I stroll up to #5, 375 Bernard Ave. with a hot cup of Starbuck's in my hand. As I climb the long steep stairs to my studio I think to myself, "morning".

No comments: