A Colombian friend says his people revere chaos as the origin of all. Ah. So often I have to face into the wind of chaos & surrender to the ruthlessly unknown.

It's dangerous to pursue an ideal like environmental healing—so tempting to paint what I think eco-reverent looks like.

But I must push past the edge, respond to startling encounters, cockamamie urges, the ever-changing fascination of color & texture.

Not every experiment works. Worse, I don’t always know. Some of my best pieces disturbed me so much I hid them.

Sometimes I stray into music or poetry. Or tie pine needle braids to trees. Or take long walks in the dark producing nothing.