No Direction Home

After a certain age, it seems, there's no direction to what was once a very delineated spot on the map. When the roots are gone, the plant withers. GPS won't help, my friends. We've been cut loose to take off in pointless directions like tumbleweeds. The only thing to do is keep some semblance of 'home' in our hearts and minds. That might just anchor us. This is a 9 by 6 inch gel pen drawing on medium bond acid-free paper. It's a semi-rooted example of that ineffable substance some call Original Jones Art as it resides in a small plain house somewhere in northwest Austin, Texas.