Karen F. Rose Fine Art
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Just one more

7/4/2020

1 Comment

 
Picture
My predawn view of small shrimp boats on the Atlantic with their lights twinkling on the horizon gave me a minute to pause and think of my dad.
My father would fish on small lakes in Michigan where I grew up and then again in Florida when he retired. I often think of him out on the lake, well into the twilight hours as he would try to catch "just one more". The lights from the cottages across the lake would barely be visible and we would hear that sound of an outboard motor as he would head back to shore and we knew he was coming home. 

Years ago when my mom was 94, we reminisced about the time my father  went out into the Gulf of Mexico with an elderly gentleman neighbor, one of his fishing buddies.
The motor in the neighbor's little boat failed on them halfway into their fishing adventure. 

Around 2 in the morning the coast guard helicopter saw them floating at sea... two old men and the sea.
Thankfully they were rescued, but my father did not venture out into the Gulf in a boat without two motors ever again.
Tell me one your fishing stories....everyone has one.

With so many of us sheltering in place during the Corona 19 crisis I hope you can spend time hearing stories from your parents.
​It's really a gift we have being together during this time. Use it to learn and share stories with those you care about.
Enjoy this 4th of July weekend. 
Picture
Beyond the Blue, oil Karen F Rose, In Private Collection
1 Comment
Vicki link
7/4/2020 05:55:42 pm

Karen,
I can truly appreciate your story. Yes, everyone has one. My Dad and brothers fish, now in Tx. But we were kids growing up in wooded New England. As a young girl, family friends invited me to their lake home on Lake Winnipesaukee, NH. Imagine 6 little girls under 12 catching a row boat of fish in mere hours. A memory to behold.
However, stories... I’d fish for Stories.. from all adults. How else can we visualize the experience of another’s life, generation and for my fathers grandmother, an immigrant from Quebec who married, birthed 13, and never learned English or drive a car, her stories were a window to tenement city living (always next to Church, for Mass).
Listening, learning and laughing for these stories truly give a glimpse of
The other persons life experience. Today, I still seek them all ages when it’s appropriate. A cell phone or text is an insult to watching
The heart speak in facial expression. You are right, this is a perfect time, if everyone wasn’t so preferential to a text.
Happy 4th of July.


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    Karen F. Rose

    while nature is my source, painting softly leads me to look for the poetic element what is not seen but in reality what is felt.
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