One evening I was standing at our kitchen counter I don’t know why but the thought from 1958 and 59 came to me about , so many evenings as I would walk to my girlfriend’s room , I would see Papasons , with A-frames on their backs, carrying crops to market. On the kitchen counter there was a scrap piece of paper with nothing on the back side but ink that was showing through in places. I began to sketch and this is simple but tells a true story that I did live so many times while I was draft to Korea! Small Korean men, farmers I suppose, trudging down the dirt street , passing by Marie’s door, on their way to sell their goods!
I am afraid the Korean people that lived and worked during those times , will fade away an be forgotten! Makes me so sad.