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 his girlfriend.