This is about memories long submerged until, like an iceberg, I dreamt
of years ago. They jump up through the surface of the sea midst a storm. Winslow Homer-esque men in yellow slickers from their lone dinghy, flanking it, tug hard on a few thin ropes. I am standing in attendance, on a slight bluff above, a lone surveyor; and, as soon as that iceberg begins to emerge, rain and sleet, cold and gray skies aside, I am laughing with a wild oblivion to the work I know I now face… because it’s out. hahah. It is finally out.

And now all these years later, indeed, i am releasing this story into the universe to go where it will. I hope that in its journey it serve
to help, heal and bless — as that is its intent: aside from telling my personal voyage as a painter of portraits and incorporator of the minutiae, inveterate feeler and conveyor of the life around me.