The woman and bird were always there. In the drum face with only my dusting of raw earth pigment along the edges.
The painted hand holds a key to a new discovery. How to lose my way in art, and find that this is a good thing.
Respect is the essence of life, and like the life force itself, it knows no boundaries.
Picasso was an incandescent genius in his late 20’s, while Cezanne did not paint his master works until his mid 50’s. But this is not the difference that caught my attention.
Here are some guidelines I have developed over the years to help make a dirty tough job–mostly a joy.
Every year, for 42 years without missing a celebration, John and I have make a shortest-day-wilderness-feast on winter solstice to help bring the sun’s warmth back to the earth.