It is prime time for fun at the local beach.
When I was the age of these girls—they’re maybe fourteen at most—my grandmother would take me to Atlantic City and all her friends thought I was ten years old. I longed to be seen as sixteen. Now, with all infinite wisdom intact, I don’t care what age I appear as, but I sure cannot tell how old these girls are. I fear that they are twelve going on 24 and that makes me a little sad as I wish they would slather on the sunscreen and stay little girls. They are also so assuredly stylish that they caught my eye during a recent beach walk. I thank them for unknowingly allowing me to capture their charm in this painting from an afternoon at Coney Island.
Arches cold press, 300 lb, 14.25″ x 21.5″