Honor Thy Father

Val Prieto does so, and his words perfectly mirror the artistry of his father's ironworks.  Like the father's sledgehammer of creation, Val forges works of breathtaking strength and beauty.

Yesterday, I spent the day at my buddy Tommy's house. I went over to touch up the steel gates and fence and railings that my dad made for his home. Ordinarily, painting all those things would have been a major pain in the ass because, man, I have painted thousands and thousands of rejas in my life. It is a daunting, boring and quite cumbersome task.

But yesterday was different. Each time I dipped that brush I would hear that ominous crash of the masterpiece and then my dad giving me the gospel of painting acording to Bonachea:  No me pintes con brocha seca.

And Val?  You are your Dad's true masterpiece.  The hammer thus swung true, and the echoes of it's blows resonate through the 'net with your every word.

Like his reja, your words are the works of a true artist.  And admired, accordingly.

Comments

[Val Prieto]

Thank you, Jim. You honor me, and the old man, with such kind words.

[Dana]

Beautiful post, Jim.

[oliver]

oli

[Nadia Bonachea]

Val...I sent you an e-mail, I hope you read it and respond soon. It will be great knowing that it is you, your family that I am questioning about, since I think that the old man Bonachea that you are referring to is/was my father.