WHAT THEY SPEAK
Still there is wonderful warmth in wandering in it all and then there are rare moments. Upon a pad of art paper, you pull a pallet knife or two, a couple of tubes of paint and play. Soon you forget about the rest of the world, its troubles, and your small pains.
You move the pallet knife back and forth, adding paint here and there, then more touches of other colors. Suddenly, the canvas speaks to you. Not of monumental things, but instead in its own simple beauty. A beauty found within, you did not know of….