I have a thread of blindness running through the years of my life.

This morning I determined that my preoccupation with seeing (which results in painting, among other activities) but not understanding (a wee bit of what we now call autism, maybe?) results in a kind of sightlessness that has lived within my shadow side as long as I can remember.

Original art will outlive both the collector and the maker. Since the dawn of time, people have had the compulsion to create art and organize their life experiences into “story” through pictures, poetry, music, and a variety of narrative forms. I’ve stood in front of pieces and wept unexpectedly….

The title quote is in reference to the oil painting, High Cliff, Coast of Maine,by Winslow Homer.  Apparently, he had showed this painting a lot for 9 years before it found a buyer.  It contributed to his frequent questioning of himself in his mid-life sales slump.  In his frustration he asked his gallery in Chicago, "Why do you not sell that "High Cliff" picture?  I cannot do better than that.  Why should I paint?"

I consider myself a sensitive person (or a highly sensitive person!).  I’m often overwhelmed with the size and number of the world’s problems.  I try to live in such a way that I effect positive change and it’s these little tasks, the joy of family, and the beauty of art and nature that keep me from stumbling over the sorrows outside of my sphere of influence.