I took these photos just moments before I received news of my father's passing, and my life changed. Even in death he held the well-being of his family in his highest regard. To hear this news whilst immersed in the spectacular landscape of Yellowstone National Park was an immense gift. I am in his deepest gratitude. As I witnessed the sun set behind the horizon, the steaming geysers evaporate and begin their climb towards the heavens, I felt like I was witnessing my father's spirit. Death is not a morbid thought. Death is a great teacher. Life is precious. Life is brief. Suspended between heaven and earth, the ethereal and the solid, imagination and reality - an endless cycle of sublimation and deposition of matter.
Getting a picture of my dad is extremely rare. Getting a picture of my dad inside my art studio is even more rare. This is one of the last photos I took of him. I liken my dad to a Snow Leopard: an extremely private, elusive creature, who's stories and adventures border on myth. He was one of the most fascinating creatures I have ever known. My father taught me many things. And although my mother taught me how to paint, my father taught me how to dream.
This blog was created to share my belief that the art-making process is a catalyst for transformation and personal empowerment. I am living proof.