I've had this image in my head for a long while and I finally made it a reality. I didn't watermark it on purpose because it would take away from every item in this picture. I created this for myself. For my children. For their children. To show them all what he is to me. What he loves. What he collects. What inspires him.
My dad. In his shed. "The" shed. It's THE shed, ya know? It contains relics that have made a larger impact on my psyche than I ever used to realize.
My dad is a bug collector. He has cigar boxes full of specimens he trapped, humanely euthanized (ask me sometime how you euthanize a bug), pinned in place, labeled with dates and who found them where. My name is in those boxes over and over. As are my brother's and sister's. And his own and my step-mom's. Even some from my grandparents. And others.
My dad is a procurer of vintage men's shirts. His daily uniform since I can remember has been one his "shirts" (I put it in quotes because they're his "shirts"), shorts and Converse All-Stars. Although lately, he's on a Jack Purcell kick. (Bad pun.)
My dad is a brilliant artist. He has illustration abilities I can only attempt to emulate. I am lucky to have inherited even just a sliver of this man's talent. He is the reason I do what I do. My biggest inspiration.
My dad is a Lego maniac. I'm sure it killed him when I was little that I was never that into Legos. He tried to get us to play with them. But they bored me to death. But my children, Lego-obssessed, never stop talking about Grampaw's Mini-Fig collection. Or his self-designed Lego scenes. Like the one he's been working on recently, the underwater volcano, complete with a vein of molten rock flowing up the center of the volcano and the Lego sea life that has found respite and sustenance upon and around the flourishing underwater ecosystem he built from scratch. Did I mention he did this with Legos?
My dad has always been my voice of reason. Even when the reason sucked. He's a no-nonsense truth-teller, even when the truth hurt. He picked me up when I fell. Taught me to ride a bike. Taught me to draw. Taught me to drive. Taught me to camp. Taught me to fish. Taught me about film and photography. Taught me about graphic design and art direction. Taught me to not give a crap about what people thought of me because I was different. Taught me to follow my artistic inspiration, no matter how weird others might have thought it was. He was there for me even when it was inconvenient for him. My list could go on and on.
I am always proud to show him off and to sing his praises because I am proud of him. Proud of who he is and who I am because of him. Happy Father's Day, Dad. Love you.