As a teenager, I remember sitting by a campfire, watching the flames and feeling the heat on my cheeks. Fire, a vehicle of change, transforms wood into ash, and from the ashes, something new arises. At that time in my life, I felt profoundly alone, but I've since come to know and have connected with my creator on a deep level. This painting takes me back to those memories of searching for belonging.
When my husband was about 17, he was passionate about playing the guitar. At a party, he encountered an older woman with a Les Paul Guitar. Enthralled by it, he asked if he could play it. She firmly replied, "No way! No one touches my guitar’ she said, “you wouldn’t believe how many ‘tricks’ I had to turn to pay for this guitar!" My husband’s eyes widened as he realized she might have been a prostitute. This story always tickles me, and now, whenever I see this painting, it brings me a lot of joy about his memories from youth.
