This is my friend, Boyd, my roommate in a convalescent hospital. Boyd had an advance
case of muscular dystrophy. It made his body deteriorate and underdeveloped, compared
with the normal size of his head. He loved girls though, especially one called Trisha.
He talked about her day and night, until I became sick and tired of hearing about
her. Although, he may have been in a wheelchair and weak from his disease, Boyd certainly
demonstrated his love for her. In this painting, he ponders about something to write