And then later, you played checkers backwards but that's what strokes do -- which also made your paintings like this.
Today would have been your 95th birthday, and it doesn't seem so long ago.
* * *
THERE was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part
of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
~ From: "There was a child went forth", Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1881