Vroom
2017 03 25
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When I was about a year old, a member of the family passed away - a great-grandfather, I think. They took me to the funeral home and let me crawl around on the floor.
I crawled around the displays of flowers, and while everyone was worried and warning that the infant would knock something over, my mother says that I reached out my hand and touched the petals with barely a whisper of a touch, with this open-mouthed look on my face like I'd never seen anything like it before.
Really, I hadn't.
This was before my first eye surgery - I had cataracts, so life was a bit of a blur. All I saw in front of me was this riot of colour. I was mesmerism's by it. Maybe it's why I'm an artist now.
My mother says that she saw the same look on my face when I would talk about driving the racecar.
