May 14, 2007
When I discovered art, a flower bloomed in my heart and pricked me with its thorns. I was looking up at miniature painted canvases aligned in rows and columns to make a big square. Warm earth tones, each different, a hundred shades of pink and brown and peach. I thought big deal, just decoration. Then I started to read the notes under the painting. Infant son. Block A1, behind ear. B10, sole of foot. C3, rim of eyelid. Inch by beloved inch, painstakingly rendered by his fatherís hand, challenging the world to see the abundance and beauty of his colors.