This image of a man in (Vietnam?) hung in the living room of my childhood home. I think it was Vietnam because the war was in full swing at the time and the magazines were printing photos of people there. Like the Woman at Night, mom probably found a photo and painted it. Again, it was unusual that a small town white family in the midwest would have a painting of an Asian person on their wall, especially if he were Vietnamese. I cannot imagine my cousin, Harold, would have been happy. I liked it though.

I always through he looked like a family friend:

This painting, like the Woman at Night, will go into storage since there is nowhere to hang it here.