The question I'm most asked is 'When did you first begin to draw and paint?". My answer always takes me back to kindergarten in 1938 just as lovely Miss Olson came over to my desk to check out my artwork, and remarked that it was "very good". Even then, already the cynic, I said to myself - sure, that's what she tells all the kids. But she surprised me by asking me to go over and help a fellow student Raymond. This was something I couldn't get around, I guess she really did see something there and I decided I had better listen to her.


As far back as I can remember I have always thought in pictures. So from the first time I picked up a 'drawing stick', I began to observe and tell it all, from beauty to horror, tenderness to disdain, life in all its' glory, and ultimately to death in its' finality. From a trip to the store for a loaf of bread, to a journey on a spit of land on the coast of Maine, with its rocky shores and determined denizens. To Florence, Italy the birthplace of modern commerce and home of Da Vinci and the Renaissance. Then to Sicily and its unexpectedly enlightened paisons and the islands soft tropical November winds as they come off Africa gently rustling the large banana leaves on the heavy shutters of my stone villa, lulling me to sleep. To California and its rugged high shoreline and avant garde estates and to sadly impacted N'Orleans and its deep culture of cuisine and wholly American music. Then finally to my studio where I stand before my bare canvas and observe all of this through my art.


So as I wander out to capture some as-yet-undiscovered scene I muse as to what undiscovered trivia I will create by setting out my easel today? Trivia yes, in its true latin definition, where "three paths" will come together where life and art will join, and this joining will be the fuel for the flame of my art.