Sometimes I Could Quit Paint And Take

If The Air Is Jam-full Of Sounds Which We Tune In With, Why Should It Not Also Be Full Of Feels And Smells And Things Seen Through The Spirit, Drawing Particles From Us To Them And Them To Us Like Magnets?

Writing Is A Splendid Sorter Of... Feelings, Better Even Than Paint.

As The Woods Are The Same, The Trees Standing In Their Places, The Rocks And The Earth... They Are Always Different Too, As Lights And Shadows And Seasons And Moods Pass Through Them.

Real Art Is Religion, A Search For The Beauty Of God Deep In All Things.

The Liveness In Me Just Loves To Feel The Liveness In Growing Things, In Grass And Rain And Leaves And Flowers And Sun And Feathers And Furs And Earth And Sand And Moss.