I hopped into Boston recently to have dinner with my daughter. We parked and walked through the sweet little streets behind Symphony Hall over to our favorite grill. I love the quiet neighborhood with brownstones and interesting stoops and doorways. When I looked over my shoulder at tone point, I saw the iconic YMCA sign above the brick houses. When I lived in that neighborhood years ago, I used the Y as my gym. It had a suspended wooden track above the basketball court space, a clever, and old design that maximized use of scarce city space. I can hear it now, loud, shoes squeaking on the wooden court floor with the regular pounding of feet on the elevated track.
This is my hundred ninety-eight daily drawing. Thanks for looking at the world through my eyes.