My father had a special talent for capturing the simple joys of everyday life through his paintings. One piece that always brings a smile to my face is his depiction of the old carousel in Central Park.

• Dad painted the Carousel again, in 1995

With its vibrant colors, swirling motion, and joyful expressions of children, it transports us right into that magical moment. We can almost hear the calliope music and the excited screams and laughter ringing out.

For our family growing up in Spanish Harlem, Central Park was a free playground. On weekends, we'd make the trek there, my siblings and me reveling in the open space after being cooped up in our small apartment all week.

But for Dad, the park was his artistic muse. He'd set up his easel and let the sights and sounds whirl to life in his works of art.

Later in life, I had the privilege of accompanying him on his artistic outings, acting as his helper and seeing his process up close. Whether we ventured to the shores of Long Island, the streets of Manhattan, Hoboken New Jersey, the canals of Venice, or the monuments of D.C., I became inextricably linked to his art.

Those experiences formed the basis for the stories I've written, the tales of a son watching his lifelong artist-father at work and why he did what he did.

Dad's paintings and drawings of Central Park, with their celebration of simple pleasures, encapsulate the joy he found in his craft and the beauty (and sometimes tragedy) of humanity.

So hop aboard today! The ride is about to start, through the eyes, mind, and heart of my father, Laszlo Tar, at the Central Park Carousel. ❤️