I have a couple of my Dads old fishing bobbers kicking around my house. They have this wonderful patina, and in their time they may just have helped win a fishing derby. When I was a feral teenager back in 1970s, England. I would swim out into the North Sea to rescue any bobber that escaped from my fathers line. I must have been crazy - those were dangerous waters!!! But, I loved the ocean and loved to swim and those primitive wooden bobbers were art to me. I couldn't let the ocean take them! And that big fish? Well, I knew that it lurked there, beneath the deep dark choppy waters, it added to the thrill of ocean swimming. This painting is my American, Midwest, lake version of that story.