Storm

Dark thunderstorms translate into reassuring, soothing, near spiritual experiences for me. Always have.

I grew up in the foothills of the Himalayas whose soil seeped into me when the rain poured down. An expert paper boat maker, I’d chase the rain and sail my boats in the puddles it left behind for days. Squatting little knees bent, toes at the edge of the water, careful not to wet my tomboyish knickerbockers…I remember coaxing my boats and singing to the rain each time I find myself mid-song in downpour…

This painting was an experiment in black…See, black is never black-I wonder if you can see the greens, blues and reds in clouds rolling in-

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