Go to a 40-Plus Year Class Reunion and you are bound to feel older than dirt–but you might also feel as young as Freshman Year. In a rushed day involving hundreds of miles of travel via auto, and a haircut, and a last roundup of ceramic and other art objects from the house I no longer live in, and a lunch with my mother and my girlfriend, and a book discussion with my daughter, I found myself at the 11th hour sketching the above frantically, trying to beat the midnight deadline. The quality of drawing often suffers when the artist does not take the proper time.

Dashed doggerel reads

40 yrs
Smiles & tears
Hope & Strive–
We’re ALIVE!

It was marvelous seeing so many of my classmates. I wish I’d done them more justice, but it’s a consequence of daily posting that artistic justice is not always served.