Art Is A Shadow Of

Heaven-born, The Soul A Heavenward Course Must Hold; Beyond The World She Soars; The Wise Man, I Affirm, Can Find No Rest In That Which Perishes, Nor Will He Lend His Heart To Ought That Doth Time Depend

It Is Necessary To Keep One's Compass In One's Eyes And Not In The Hand, For The Hands Execute, But The Eye Judges.

My Beard Towards Heaven, I Feel My Nape Support / The Back Of My Head, I Grow The Breast Of A Harpy / And My Brush As It Drips Continually / Upon My Face, Makes It A Gorgeous Floor.

No Thought Is Born In Me That Does Not Bear The Image Of Death.

Your Gifts Lie In The Place Where Your Values, Passions And Strengths Meet. Discovering That Place Is The First Step Toward Sculpting Your Masterpiece, Your Life.