“ We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead. I believe in such cartography — to be marked by nature, not just to label our self on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. We are not owned or monogamous in our taste or experience. All I desired was to walk upon such an earth that had no maps. ” —Michael Ondaatje

Absorbing and appreciating my relationships with the tiniest individual moments in time and capturing the essence in my memory as a living painting; an evolving canvas, breathing of color, texture, scent, emotion, light, temperature, and always, always, always... flowing in muse!