I first began coming back to life on Kinney Road, and it is an important place
for me, in my life and memory.

 August 28, 2008 – Do you ever wonder why we feel pain, fear or guilt? I do. I don’t like these feelings, but have come to value them. Madness is nothing but a gift, else where would creativity and art come from? Why do we see the world differently, and become absorbed by light, color and stories?
  Out of this trouble comes so much art, so many artists. And really, it makes sense. If it’s true that each act of creation is the ability to see the world again, for the first time, then I can’t imagine a sharper impetus than fear and pain. It works for me.
  The creation of art is, of stories and pictures is,  for me, the literal act of coming to life, to consciousness, of beginning to feel apart from fear and worry, the liberation of real and genuine feeling. It’s what I mean when I say I am learning to say what I mean, and know what I mean. Through the stories and photos, presented mostly on this site, I am beginning the process of coming to life.
 Coming to the farm was the beginning of the process, because it is teeming with life, and it ropes you in, drags you around, puts your nose to the grindstone, keeps you alive. So I love it.
  This afternoon, I had an amazing photographic experience, walking by the porch, and seeing the interplay of sun, flower, blue vase and green leaves. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, ran inside for the camera and tripod, macro lenses and big ones, and rushed out, the dogs in tow.
  Lenore, Izzy and Rose are used to me now, and they arrayed themselves in a circle around the vase and watched me carefully, as if I were unlocking some key to the universe. They are my greek chorus, creative partners in my work, offering love, companionship and interest. I did well by them, I think, and did well by other feelings, and will post these pictures, a step forward for me as an artist, I believe, a process I hope never stops. But what do I know?