Summer 2025 Reflection:

Attuning to the landscapes from a quiet

Spring- beginning within,

A bow to its string instrument, and its calculated, anticipated, moment to play...

This is where paintings are born and heard by the world, or as “art” only in the sense that a firm naming might be strong enough to hold steady ground for something in void of an aching utility, something this soft- or somehow doesn’t ask at all to know what it means to defend itself.

An acknowledgement of this tender Spring within,

safe at last, OUT THERE.

(Welcome to the outside coming in and the inside coming out = these images, playing out loud, without in total, a sound..) Peace peace !