One of my earliest memories is sitting at the edge of a field of oats in late August.  I had that sense of myself – very much a “Walt Whitman” moment.  The blue sky, the soft yellow of the ripe oats, the green trees on the other side of the field, the terracotta roof in the distance.  All these memories are visual – colour, shade, texture.  

I paint with the excitement of that day I was there.  I am there now.

Enjoy the art with me.  Thank you.