My visual words known as my art tells many stories. These stories come from my dreams, conversations I have with myself inside of my head. Add all these up and you see visually my thoughts or memories on life. The way my body understands both my physical and mental emotions and lastly how I question my very existence. As a child I day dreamed a lot; I still do as a 61-year-old man. As a child I built things out of found objects I would find in the woods as I sat underneath trees. As a 61-year-old man I still build things and I still love trees. As a child I loved climbing and playing in trees with my imagination. As a 61-year-old man I still climb trees and play in them with a lot of help from my imagination. The woods were a sacred place for me, especially sitting under my favorite trees. I would hide there for along time hiding from my real world as I played in my imagination. Now I make things that remind me of that time playing with my thoughts. These memories now are connected like branches of a tree. A very special creative childhood tree. A tree like me that has grown over many years showing the many different seasons of life.