W.H. Hudson's book The Naturalist in La Plata, Chapter 11 Humble Bees and other Matters was a very interesting read which spoke to me as one of the key messages from the universe. I felt that reading touched on the cycle of life, the natural web...the survival of the fittest....natural selection. We are all connected! ...from the humble bumble bee in the Pampas to the powerful glaciers in the Patagonia. These wonders of nature seem to be vanishing?...evolving one could say? Their is never a static state in life...our dynamic world will never be as it was...and it is exciting to find out what it will be. But most importantly we need to nurture the very present moment...of our very own beings being fully aware of each second that we are blessed to be embraced in...only then will we be able to shine together.

W.H. Hudson's very first paragraphs in his introduction to Far Away and Long Ago stirred my memory of place and emotions. I tried to recall my first memory as a child....what a blur...the memory of shape and place....a pond...a duck...cattails....but my emotions are such a blur to me now...even though I know I was in a pure euphoria...is this because when one is that young child, one is in a sensual blissful state of absorbance? Where one is emerged into the place full of images, that the senses naturally take over... After this reading and while listening to Chango Rodriguez.. Mi Luna Cautiva...and Zamba de Abri...my hand began to paint what that state is...a storm of images...with key subjects...that tend to jump out in our memories...a playful dance of the known tangibles with the unknown ecstasy of the young mind.

Lucio Mansilla-- Una excursión a los indios Ranqueles... lead me on a journey to the

tierra adentro...the interior... of the Native Indian's land...this reading left me 

pondering about my own inter-self. The quote on the piece struck me the most...I 

could truly resonate with that instinctual, gut...or call it soul...feeling...

intuition? I seem to encounter this feeling almost everyday...sometimes listening to my internal 

self...other times ignoring that gut-feeling and later finding myself laughing on how wrong my

mind was. In this piece I had no plan and solely went on my intuition...with key images

of the reading fresh in my mind...released this latest piece. 

El Gaucho Martin Fierro

This poem lead me down a spiraling trial to the unknown. As I read each passage I would pause...my hand came alive and began to sing a story...the raging waves started to appear...horses taking charge to put the flames to rest. The rolling country hills began to burn... as  a single tree's roots grasped to protect the virgin Mary from the darkness...the tree risking it's very own life...its leaves charred from the flames...but 

although the body almost turned to dust...the spirit remained in the night sky...watching...protecting.

The smoke, blood red, black tar, ate the sky...as all seemed to to burn and degrade...the archangel Michael appeared...