When I was five, I was hospitalized with an illness from which it was thought I would die. (Thankfully, I was only told this many years later!) Every day as my mother turned to leave me she would start to cry, and so would I.
But one day, at that very moment, I switched on the radio beside my bed and heard a song that seemed to overcome all my fear and loneliness.
Read More »In the room where I paint there are three Chinese gongshi, scholars’ rocks, as a tribute and a remembrance to my Chinese painting guides, members of the literati, the scholar-painters. It is as if I am triangulated by the Energy emanating from the rocks, from them as the rocks.
When I was in Japan, I searched for the equivalent of a Japanese scholar’s rock and found in a junkstore in Kyoto a cut-off section of an old tree root.
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