At 70 years old, I start each morning the same way—walking to the park with my easel and paints, settling beside the quiet pond where families stroll by. I wasn’t always an artist. For three decades I worked as an electrician, but after my wife passed and my daughter Emily needed long-term care, life shifted. Painting became my escape during long, lonely nights, and eventually it became a way to earn a little extra to support her therapy.
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