Another Anniversary

This is the inner flap of my Cuban passport from 1961; the yellowed card stapled to the cover with my photo is the autorization to leave.

Today marks the 48th anniversary of my arrival in Miami in the company of my two sisters... My older sister Bea tells me that she had a presentiment as we were departing that it was to be forever... but I think none of us ever thought the Castro regime would last this long.

That there are still human beings on this planet who support Castro and believe he has done "some good things" for "his people" is beyond my ability to fathom. I understand it's the power of lies and propaganda; Castro has always had a close ally in Satan, the Father of Lies.

It seems to me that Evil is on the rise in the world at this moment, and in Latin America in particular, with the Castro-Chavez hard-left axis of evil sweeping across the continent. I worry about what is happening to our freedom here in America too. It's probably not uncommon for a person my age to have so many worries and feel pessimistic about the future, but these times seem darker to me than any I've ever seen before. May the Almighty protect us; Lord knows our leaders aren't!

Gorilla Painter

The truth can now be told--I really am not one of the Gorilla Girls! I'm reluctant to designate myself as a "guerrilla" because to me that term has such an awful connotation, and I mean that in the original sense of the word of "filling one with awe." But I happen to have collected quite a bit of Guerrilla Painter equipment and accessories for my next plein air workshop coming up tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to having more compact, portable gear. Less time to set up, more time to paint.

I often think about why the figure of the unwashed, violent guerrilla has been so romanticized here in America... starting with Herbert Matthews as Fidel Castro's first groupie on through to Che Guevara's murderous, beretted mug for sale on T-shirts, Americans have just loved the image of these idiots, if not the men themselves. I can understand a certain appeal for the young, their rebellious adolescence finds in these men the ultimate anti-authority figure, while forgetting that they end up becoming worse dictators that the ones they replaced. The older unrepentant leftists should know better, but they will never admit it.

In any case, I'd never want to self-identify as a guerrilla, it's better to be a gorilla painter. What next? Whale painter? Tomorrow I'm off to Tilghman Island.