Good Bye Don

I wrote this after I learned Don de Llamas died.

We sit in your studio talking, laughing, smoking and joking.  Unfinished paintings surround us.  Paint splatters on the floor - red, green, blue, yellow, making colorful unintentional pieces of art.  You show me your most recent paintings asking me if I like them, what do I think. You value my opinion.  Then you say sit still so I can paint you.  So I sit as you sketch the outline, the shape of my body emerges, there's my hands, my short curly hair.  You start on the feature of my face; my eyes, nose and mouth.  For some reason you just can't get the hands right.  My bright red sweater.  You capture the sadness in my eyes and face....after all it's only been a short time.

Day trip with Deanna and Don.  It's a beautiful but typical San Diego day.  The sun is shinning, the sky is blue, a perfect tourist day in "America's Finest City."  It's been about 4 months now, but the pain of Gene's passing is still too strong and I know it's going to be a tough day.  So I call work and say "I just can't make it today."  They understand -- it's ok -- take the time -- heal.  I call you and say "rescue me, I'm so down, I don't think I can manage to get dressed.  You say "I'll come and get you, Deanna's in town, we'll do something fun."  And we do!  You decide you need to take pictures of, as you say, two beautiful women on the beach.  So we drive up the coast, just pass Torrey Pines.  We walk on the beach as you take pictures of the two beautiful women.  I still have the picture of Deanna and me posing on some wooden stairs.  You tell us we look beautiful but I know better...but maybe we do look nice.  We sit on the beach enjoying the sun, the sea, the sounds of the birds.  All of a sudden Deanna starts to turn red. It seems the antibiotic she's on doesn't reach well with the sun!  So off we go to a Mexican restaurant for margarita's, chips and spend time solving ours and the world's problems.