People often ask me about my creative process. It begins with a deep breath. Oxygen rolls around in my nasal cavities and lungs. Without that, there is nothing else for me. The rest just kind of follows. All that activity, like looking, holding a brush, playing with a dog, planting a tree… My eyes breathe in the vistas and my hands exhale the paint. I’ve often described painting like breathing or dreaming. It is my body’s response to what I see and feel. Something in me wants to leave a record of what I’ve experienced or dreamed, and so I make pictures. Pictures that don’t always show what I saw, but my reaction to it. My dreams don’t always make sense. Either does the way I lay paint colors against each other… sometimes.