
My
grandaddy was a WWII veteran, he wore his WWII veteran hat
everyday until the day he died.
His daily activities would include
kicking his horny dog off his leg, and
chit chatting with his friends about their days in the war over a gazzillion cigarettes out on the porch. When he was alone sometimes
I'd watch him stare into nothing...
but somethin' all at the same time. This painting I did of him during undergrad was my interpretation of what I always imagined he'd been staring at all along.
Till this day I don't know one person whose been apart of a war that doesn't have this stare...
www.beautifique.org/blog/