From a white field of emptiness, beginning with a random dance of texture, a painting begins to materialize.

Stroke upon stroke of oil, glaze upon glaze, adjusting, sanding, looking near and far, rubbing, changing, applying wax with oil, drawing, digging, rolling, scratching, smiling, breathing. Hands move, thoughts occur, intuition flows guided by a rhythmic force. Is it the same force that causes a tree to reach for the heavens, the clouds to shift, the river to flow and the mind to clear like water in a still pond.

Rest a moment and contemplate a landscape of no particular place or time. Maybe it is reminiscent of old world landscapes or firmly rooted in an abstract take on nature and beauty. Perhaps it seems familiar and evokes memories or emotions connected to places known. Is it striving to balance dark and light, is it a tapestry of metaphor or are memory and imaginings woven into poetry? Ineffable and mysterious, the painting waits as qualities of stillness, calmness and peace arise from the paint like mists over water.