I Believe In All That Has Never

Love And Death Are The Great Gifts That Are Given To Us; Mostly They Are Passed On Unopened.

My Art Is Representational By Choice....if The Art Of Painting Is To Survive, It Must Describe And Express People, Their Lives And Times. It Must Communicate.

How Can I Keep My Soul In Me, So That It Doesn't Touch Your Soul? How Can I Raise It High Enough, Past You, To Other Things?

Perhaps The Same Bird Echoed Through Both Of Us Yesterday, Seperate, In The Evening.

They, Who Passed Away Long Ago, Still Exist In Us, As Predisposition, As Burden Upon Our Fate, As Murmuring Blood, And As Gesture That Rises Up From The Depths Of Time.