i fly into the no-place|everywhere
no-time|everywhen

find images
return

Paintings are born
because others asked for them

People gaze into a painting and find within it some memory in their own heart.One tells me “this looks like the fjord in Norway where I come from,” another, “Oh I know this place in Alaska,” for another it is a beloved spot on the Skykomish, or in Montana, Zion….

Sometimes tears spring up, desire - not to own but to reconnect to a place in the heart.

It touches me, humbles me.
These paintings are not mine, they are the memories of others, little portals for other’s hearts - gifts from the universe to release constraints, an invitation of the soul through the doorway of the heart.

I just find them, bring them back,
leave them, waiting to be found by another.
How can i express my gratitude for this trust, this bond?
You would know, if you could look into my heart as you do a painting.