I have come to realize that the fate of an artist is to live life perched on the edge of the world. Sometimes I feel it is because one needs to be alone to paint or write or compose that one becomes detached from the world in a unique way. At other times, I wonder if one is born with the need to observe and a to record the observations … a form of communication unique to the arts. Remote messages, as it were.

This little work is about the artist occupying a solitary world. The little bird house studio apartment sits high above an ocean of grass from whence the hidden flashes of memory and insight become perceptible lurking below the surface. The quiet world of the marsh offers few distractions allowing for the passage of time to become meaningless while looking for some elusive memory to retrieve.