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Finally, after all these years, the prints are here.

feels unreal, all these years i simply kept creating and never paused to take a look back, today all the stories of making them envelop me, lugging the giants on my shoulder, finishing them where ever I got space, floors, tables, amongst cats and rain, they tested me in ways only known to resilient will, they revealed the myths taking solace in everything ordinary...what we don't understand is not always fear, each painting revealed this to me bit at a time, it was not the skill at test but rather the heart, which wanted to tell it's own stories but much had to be shed before that could happen, each of these paintings helped me do so, step away from my own bias, not giving into the comfort of a job, big projects which by experience i know work as a drug forcing one to to forget what the heart is truly wanting to tell, the pain inflicted by one's own choices becomes worth it, and then it's not pain, it's something beyond joy, there is no word for it, maybe, but then that would still not be adept at saying what it feel like to be your own wind, it takes time for it to transform, but it does become the spot from where, every tiny thing looks imbued in awe of what surrounds it, just like me.

an opening into the realm of imagination, the truth of my life.