doing well blogging

another story of a blogger getting a television series from his writing has come to light.  it's the new words without a page, using the blog entry as a journal.  I don't really read the entries that are made but I do like to use the medium. 
Have been bringing firewood to the Reef.  My right wrist is complaining about it.  There was one major chunk that will probably end up being the outdoors table, it's so large, the lower portion of a tree, took a big effort to get it on the truck, will have to roll it to where I want it to set.   Thinking nice flat stones and then plunk it on those just to keep it off the ground.  Need also a fire pit of sorts, so I can start using up the twigs and branches that have been cleared away.  Strange how last year it was a bramble mess and now it is showing up with little flowers like grape hyacinth that were there all the time only lost in the clutter of blackberries and salmon berries. 
I suppose that nice rocks will be my next scavenge.  I found a little dresser when I brought my son's kids over to their old neighborhood last evening.  I am visiting until tomorrow morning when I go back to attend the school board meeting and hopefully get in a yoga session.  My stomach is like worn out elastic, rather flabby.  Shouldn't be too bad with all the labor intensive chores of the Reef and getting settled there but it appears so.  The little dresser has veneer issues but all the knobs are there and it was sitting out free in front of the buildings at the entry to the little alley where my son's family lived until last fall.  The kids hadn't been back.   They did find some of their playmates and as the baby schlepped in her carseat and I discovered two chin hairs in the car mirror, they played.
I debated back and forth with myself about the free dresser.  I love to restore furniture but don't I have enough? I wondered.  Yes, but the prospect of restoring this piece was too much.  We and the oldest daughter loaded it into the back of the SUV and it came back here with us.  I'll fix it up, it'll be great. 
So the point of this effort is to discuss art and the influence it generates by the visual medium.  Still on about that.  Have been working on a portrait of my son, myself and our cat, Felix, from a snapshot of us on the front porch of our house in Salisbury, Maryland, where we lived when my son was small.  Summers were great there because we were thirty miles from Ocean City, Maryland, where we could swim in the Atlantic to our heart's content.  The portrait of the three of us is coming along nicely.  I've done a series of sketches so far and have several sizes of canvas that I'm going to use, one or the other, have to get those stretched and sized so they'll be ready when I've finally done the composition enough to feel comfortable about putting it on canvas.
Point of the art?  My middle son's kid's are the ages of the older son in the portrait.  They're different in aspect, of course, but the age is right.   I took a series of snapshots of them yesterday at the park and will take some more before I go I think.  It's taken me more than thirty years to get around to the portrait of my son but he never married so this is to capsulize the elements that he might have passed on, but so far has not.  He was always like a fairy child when he was small.  Sturdy and bright like a freshly bloomed daffodil, sunny and pragmatic, like he is now, living in the tropical landscape of Maui, where he loves the beach.  He was engaged once to a sweet girl whose portrait still sits in my bedroom display of family photographs.  Of the several he intended to marry, that one was the most endearing, though they were all very nice.  I don't think of him as married, with children, because he was all about himself, always, and that's just how it was.  He was loyal to me and he loved our home in Salisbury.  Part of him is still there, so that's why the portrait now, because he is in Hawaii, not Maryland, not New Orleans where he lived with the dear girl, not Bellingham, where I am now and where he lived with his stepfamily until he came to finish school with me and his  younger brother and sister.  It's confusing how we extend our families to include everyone we love, but not really, because the time we spend with them is precious and that's the only thing that really matters.  So that's the art intent, to record our time in Salisbury, which I know my son loved and cherished ever after as the summers at the beach.