Walk on the Beach

Just because we can........so we do.

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Chester The Molester

   I used to be happy to bring him a trinket or two fram farrin.  He always wanted a new watch, digital not analog,  Miss, something shiny and modern to show off on his scrawny wrist as he bicyled up and down the lane in Sav La Mar.
    A few bucks for a Canal Street special was certainly within my means. I would dutifully deliver the watch when we first set foot in the yard and unloaded our booty for the rest of the family. I never quite understood where he fit into the family hierarchy of cousins and step-siblings and distant aunties or uncles. He was just there, in a scrap-heap hovel of a house in one corner of the yard, eking out a meager existence.
   But I don't bring him anything anymore. No Canal Street specials, no cheap  I (heart) NY tee-shirts. Nuttin. I can barely stand to look 'pon him.  Not since I learned that he was the fiend who lured young Poochie out into the bush, convincing Miss Una he needed Poochie's help to "collect limes." Why would this old goat ask for the help of a slim 12-year-old girl when there were 'nuff strapping teenage bwoys in the yard fi climb tree and ting?
   Yeah, we know why.  Mi dun wid you.

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Yard Work

A quick trip bakka yard............nuff inspiration.

"Pelican Bar No. 3", 4"x6" oil on canvas. Available for purchase here.



"Negril Beach No. 3", 4"x 6" oil on canvas. Available for purchase here.

"Coconuts No. 6", 4"x6" oil on canvas. Available for purchase here.

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