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This is a painting I made for my son, Trygve, for his bedroom.  I wanted to try and capture the energy, the color, and and the leisure of a summer day at the grand ballpark in Chicago.

Posted on Trygve’s Facebook on April 20, 2020:

I’m a man of ritual – of tradition – of rhythms. I have found that these rhythms and traditions give my life a kind of strength and form. One of the rituals I’m missing – grieving really – is the launch of a new baseball season: knowing that a game can be on in the background – that I can check the stats – follow along with precision. I’m grieving that the pop of the glove, the crack of the bat, the chatter of the player and fans have been suspended for the moment. That pop and crack and chatter are a part of my seasonal awakening of spring and then into summer. So in honor of the game I love – a truly American gift – like the Constitution and Jazz – here is a painting I made a few years ago for my son Trygve’s bedroom. I can’t wait to hear again the umpire yell…”Play ball!”

“A Hot dog at the ballpark is better than a steak at the Ritz.” – Humphrey Bogart

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