Oil Spills, Oil Paint, and Blood

When I bike the boards I’m not always looking for photo essay fodder. But like a humpback offshore it often it leaps out at me. I think it’s because I just pay attention. There is always so much going on.

So many of you give me so much hope for humankind.

While biking this week I saw a man about to set up his easel at our boardwalk’s rail. I made a CAREFUL U turn and "inquired within," as is said.

Jackson Overhuls is a man of few words. But when he speaks with his paint brush, he’s quite eloquent. Jackson has an interesting day job but his passion is painting, oil painting.

And I suspect he gets more out of it—because of his day job.

We all can’t help but weep at the world news every day. No matter your personal perspective, kids are bleeding to death, and they all have moms and dads who love them, just like you love yours.

But despite the bleak news, we need to find as much happiness as we can—wherever we can. It helps keep us sane in an insane world.

Please visit my photo essay, Oil Spill, Oil Paints, and Blood.

Be well,
Leebythesea