Quora Question: "What is something you saw as a child that was disturbing?"

I was 6. There was a cocked pistol at my mom's temple with my mom egging my dad on screaming at the top of her lungs with tears and mascara running in disgusting channels down her cheeks.

“You don't have the BALLS!!!”, and my Dad yelling back, “I'll f-ing DO IT J----", I scurried away to go to one of the many “hideouts" around the house.

Usually, when I appeared, they would see me and begin toning down their heated, often loud and violent engagements. This was beyond what seeing me would do. I scurried away.

I hunkered down in the closet, my parents’ clothes hanging down like the branches of a weeping willow.

I could hear them yelling. I was bracing for the sound I hoped I would not hear. My dad LOVED guns and was a collector, so I knew what they sounded like when fired. My teddy, named Teddy, had been with me my entire life. I held Teddy close, then I looked at him.

*Dreaming, Yet Someone Comes”, acrylic done last week*

The only logical explanation for the deep

voice that came from Teddy telling me, “Stay here, someone will come, when it is safe", is that it was me speaking, but I do not recall speaking, and I certainly did not have a deep voice. This one sounding like a large mountain gong, without any ringing.

No one ever came. I don’t remember leaving. I am still waiting. As things got worse, and worse, yes, and worse, I started to get angry proportional to the pain. This manifests mainly in odd, ill-timed humor, or a constant intensity that makes people uncomfortable after long periods.

Working on that now. Been a week since this, and the painting the next day.

*Annual Marine Corps League Detchment 1155 Crabfeed Fundraiser in Brentwood, CA. I was doing live art for the silent auction, and met this promising young fan of Pink Floyd*

*Taken at 3:43 pm, 2/2/20, at my home in San Leandro, CA. Teddy is still with me, although I didn't quite know why ‘till recently, and is on my art board, with the portrait of my partner, Sabrina, in oil pastel (new obsession I got last May, oil pastels, no training, though I have fun doing it)*