The black laquer formed tiny globules on the canvas, as the bristles of the brush deposited them in rows. Each artful stroke revealed more and more of what was to be a pivotal work, and what was ceasing to be a dream. And as words not only record thought, but also codify it, so to did painting imbue soul into both art and artist. But while words migtht be understood by a the right listener, there is no true measure of the soul. One might only hope that a viewer might find their own meaning within the ink here deposited.