My Dad, My Light

My father told me that when he was my age he wanted to be a painter, actually, not just a painter but an artist. However, after a short stint in Paris with more girlfriends than galleries he decided that he wasn’t good enough to be an artist. There were other who were gifted, he was merely persistent and even on that count, not persistent enough since he abandoned paint and Paris and decided to light up the sky instead. Now I don’t know exactly what he did, the word electrician was often thrown around, words like switch gear too. All I do know is that while my dad lived, he lit up the room, quite literally.

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