I pass that old, sun-faded Chevy almost daily—it sits off the road like a monument to Southern resilience. Rusted, forgotten by most, and yet somehow full of presence. When I painted Gone to Seed, I wasn’t just drawn to its weathered charm. I was pulled in by a memory. A feeling. A whisper of my father’s 1963 Kelly Green Chevy pickup. I know this is my second blog about this painting, but the memories it has been bringing to light have been haunting.

That truck was a big purchase my parents made for their glass business, Clover Glass—named for good luck and my Mother’s Irish roots. We weren’t wealthy, but I don’t remember lacking a thing. What I remember is the sense of pride that came with that truck, and the way I’d bounce along beside my dad as he drove to jobs. Just the two of us. Me swinging my legs over the vinyl seat, the windows down, the sounds of the Sixties on the AM radio, and fresh air filling the cab.

He never rushed. We always took the scenic route. I learned how to read a Road Atlas. My Dad was meticulous in his craft, and he was sought by restorers of antique automobiles throughout the Boston area. Sometimes we'd stop for a Coke or a donut if Mom wasn't watching. In those drives, I learned that work could be a kind of love language. That showing up, doing the job right, and making something lasting mattered.

When I painted Gone to Seed, I wasn’t thinking about composition or light—at least not at first. I was remembering the curve of the hood, the soft rumble of the engine, the way summer air smells different when you're riding beside someone you admire. The painting holds all of that, even if no one else sees it. It’s a roadside relic to some, but to me, it’s a memory stitched into the canvas.

That’s the thing about painting—sometimes it surprises you. You set out to capture a scene, but what pours out is something deeper. A moment that lingers. A quiet, green echo from your past.

Some people keep journals. I paint mine—one brushstroke at a time.

1963 Chevy C10 Pickup in Ivy Green Dad, Duchess, and Me The only picture I have with Dad's truck

Yes, it's AI. Don't hate me! Look in the top left for the red arrow

Duchess was by BFF and we were inseparable