paintings When I started having this eye problem, I was upset with these visions, the dazzling colors. I talked to a priest at the Holy Cross Retreat. "Paint them," he said, "Make designs, pictures out of them".
blind man touching the sun When I moved to New Mexico with my Mom I discovered that I was able to see so much better here that I could get out and do things. This is where I started running. The sun is a very real companion to me. Here, you can always feel the sun when it is up. When I am out under the sky, the sun helps me understand where I am, where I am going, and amazingly, it helps me see. Sometimes I wish I could say thanks! Here I am, carressing the sun to say thanks.
butterfly eyes This is one of my first paintings. It comes from an experience I had while hiking in the mountains. I was walking up through a valley when the ground disappeared. There where all these colors floating around me, orange and black. It took me a few minutes to figure out that I was in the middle of a swarm of butterflies. They must have been migrating south for the winter.
towers in heaven I thought I was painting another landscape. The 911 incident had just happened and I was really struggling to do something with my frustration and anxiety. A dear friend stopped by that day. He told me they looked like towers. He seemed to know more about where I was headed with this thing than I did. These are the towers, resurrected in heaven.
two kids in the universe My son Micheal and I were great buddies years ago when I did this painting. The setting is his grandma's farm in the Mesilla Valley, right on the Rio Grande. Michael's mother was always upset with me because she got to play the role of the heavy. I was just Michael's pal. We just had a natural buddy thing, playing together and going places. It was lot of fun, and I miss it.
canary house This painting came from my own back yard. It was autumn and the leaves were turning. The sun was shining through the walnut tree in my yard. I painted the branches, but as the leaves started to take shape they looked more like birds than leaves. Canaries are yellow, so there you have it - Canary house.
night owl The actual title of this painting is The Owl and the Alien. The journey was to do some filming in famous places in New Mexico, and that day those places were Roswell and the Owl Bar & Cafe in San Antonio. After lunch we walked out into the sunshine to stretch and air out before the drive home. I saw something perched on a roof down the street. We decided it was an owl, and though we watched it for a long while it did not move. It just stared back at us. So, of course it was a very large and solemn owl. That's my story, and I'm sticking with it.
lulu I think this painting is an expression of my athleticism. The medusa-like hair screams with energy. My daughter Lulu thinks it is just plain mean. I told her, "Well Lulu, you weren't exactly being nice to me at the time." She was a teenager. I admit it might have had something to do with my feelings then.
what color is the wind This painting is sort of my inspirational image. "What color is the Wind?" I was fifteen, and a little girl named Debbie who was born blind, who had never seen the color green or the shape of a tree, asked me a question after the wind blew through her long brown hair. "Can you tell me, what color is the wind?". That question just blew my mind because I was just losing my sight then. She woke up my creative sense by asking me that question.
winter solstice In the autumn I always make it a point to visit the Bosque Del Apache. It's a really beautiful wetland preserve in the headwaters of Elephant Butte lake near Truth or Consequnces, New Mexico. Millions of migratory birds rest over there on thier way south for the winter.