During WW II, as a child, in my innocence,
I drew with chalk and broken pottery on NY streets,
forms and shapes in conflict, seeking reconciliation,
hoping to bring fathers, brothers home.
Drawing and color became magical.
Rains came, images disappeared.
I began again.
It all started there
leading to the discovery of –
Cezanne, Picasso and Matisse
a trip to Rhodes, Greece
abstract expressionism –
de Kooning and Rothko
I move from paradox to episodes
where line, color and words
create (generate) their own form.