In 2002, when my children were still children, I was cleaning up after they were done mixing tempera paints. A soft buttery yellow whispered, in the way life often whispers, but this time I paid attention. I sat down and made something unexpected.
It was clearly a self portrait, and it nakedly described my experience. For the first time I knew I
could say things that words couldn't say. I hang on and set about to learn more.
I spent the next sixteen years exploring that voice, learning, making, selling, making a living.
At the end of 2017, something new whispered.
I started making drawings. I'd make somewhere in the neighborhood of 2000 paintings by this time and it seemed like enough of those big grand works. Simplicity beckoned. I followed.