Description

Once upon a time in my life, we lived in uptown Manhattan, just a few long blocks from Central Park. My Dad was an artist, a very simple guy with an endless driving vision.

Dad saw things that many New Yorkers take for granted, and the things he saw moved him as a person and as an artist. Through his art, he captured what he saw and what he felt about what he saw.

In 1964, Dad was 42 years old. America was still quite new to us as a poor immigrant family, and for an artist new can be exciting and inspiring. On any given day, Dad would visit Central Park to find the perfect view to paint or draw. His method of discovery was simple. Each day he casually walked around. When something caught his eye, he made a work of art from it.

This general location, on the upper 70th streets, was a favorite of ours to visit. There was a French school nearby, and each school day, around 11am they brought their children to the park to play. You can see them in this painting, with their blue uniforms, and I can forever hear them in my mind screaming with joy as they endlessly run around. The city skyline stands in the backdrop with the towering Empire State Building, and the trees carry golden shades, signaling it is mid-Fall.

On this day, Dad saw and reflected on what he felt, in this timeless Central Park Fall. ❤️

Through My Father's Eyes