My cousin and I love to play with art supplies. What we produce is very different because our viewpoint is different, just as yours is different from either of ours. My hand is apparent whether I have drawn with a pen or pencil, inscribed on clay, carved or burned in wood or painted on canvas with a brush. The images or objects are just opportunities that exist inside me, waiting for their chance to escape and be out on their own in the world.

That’s how I make the leap from the idea in my head to the action I produce.

When I meditate, I do it for myself. It is not for anyone else, though others near me might benefit from my practice. In the same way, I’m happy to share my art with others, but I do it for me. I don’t mind if someone else doesn’t respond to it.

The funny thing is that the more deeply personal the art is, the more appeal it seems to have, at least with some. My symbols are admittedly arcane. When they find their target I’ve found a soulmate.

I don’t need my work to be understood by everyone, but I believe everyone can find their own voice. What they do may not appeal to me, and I think that is beautiful.