My first memory of holding a paint brush dates back to nursery school. I loved standing at an easel even though I was told that I painted on Veronica, the child standing next to me, instead of painting on the art paper on the easel.

 That yearning to paint about what I saw, how I felt and my discoveries of the world and now the universe have never ended.

 Painting affords me pleasure and excitement at all I see in the natural world, all I read, study and everything that visits my dreams.

I was a bookish only child growing up in a New York City apartment. My 8th floor bedroom window only had a view of the solid brick wall of the other side of the building. When I enter homes, the first thing I look at is the view out the windows.

 Painting gave me vistas so much further than out my 8th floor bedroom window.

Even now, painting allows me a wonderful entrance to other realms in life.  I see strange perspectives, all sorts of forms and relationships. I am visually delighted by small things and large things. I stare at the shape of a leaf, an uneven sidewalk, rain as it falls, snowflakes before they hit the ground. My most exciting travels take place through my paintings.

When I paint I am not limited to walking on our earth. I can fly to and through many worlds. In my paintings I cruise beyond my earthly limits. I explore stars and planets, and in doing that I find myself.