Before my father retired from The Port Authority, he went to night school, earned a teaching degree in Industrial Arts, and became a shop teacher at a local junior high. He also set up a shop in the basement for his own projects, and after he passed away, I discovered a folder of plans he had drawn up for each one. Some were simple diagrams, indicating the measurements and basic designs, but others were three-dimensional drawings that showed an obvious talent for drawing. With only a few exceptions, we never saw the finished projects.
After I took up painting, I found that I enjoyed drawing, too. It's a necessary step to begin a painting, but there are times when I don’t want to go over a drawing with paint because of all the work I put into it. Maybe that explains why my father left behind very few completed projects; why build something out of wood when you can satisfy your imagination on paper? Whatever was on his mind, finding that he had a talent for drawing was a connection to him I never knew I had, and could be the answer to the question I sometimes ask myself when I look back at some of my own work, “Where did that come from?”