Thursday, May 11, 2017

POINTING THE FINGER

I notice in a lot of photos, many of them not scanned yet, I'm pointing a finger at the photographer or someone in the photo or just at the general atmosphere, like here in the arms of my mother, with my father and five living siblings (one brother between me and my closest sister passed as an infant) during World War Two...here's some more over the years:
me in the little matching shorts and shirt outfit with my father and two of my brothers and mother top left next to a cousin her mother her brother and sister and father and kneeling next to me my oldest sister, a cousin, my youngest sister and a friend of my sisters' c. 1950
my grandson, oldest and youbesgt son and me c. 2002
dancing at a niece's wedding with another niece and her husband behind me c. 2006
me reading at The Bowery Poetry Club c. 2008
me and friends at my 70th birthday party 2012
me reading c. 2014
my oldest son and me, not a flattering shot (Miles' eyes half open and my cutting my own hair doesn't help) at The Gotham Comedy Club NYC 2016 or '17

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