Frank was my high school art teacher. He didn't teach me about drawing or painting (although he eventually did because we had a life long relationship) he met me from the very beginning as artist-to-artist. He knew I was an artist. He knew I would find the teachers I needed to learn drawing, painting, color. What he did for me was to show me there was a way to be an artist in this world, and be true to me "Debbie Clarke" as an artist. He counseled me to find ways to work to support my art through other venues. I gave Frank a show a few years back and we managed to cover his art career in my few short walls. No more words right now. In this photo I think the flowers have become Frank.
I grew up across the street from the Petronzio's.
I remember Frank fondly.
When I was little I would go and visit with Franks mother so I could look at Pete's work.
thank you for sharing Karen. Haven't seen any of Frank's dad's work in years.
I think about Frank just about every day, with his face smiling at me from the art altar.
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