I GREW UP IN CANADA, under a big sky and have always felt the formation of clouds, storms, and sunsets up there was similar to the formation of ideas, or impulses, in the creative mind. That turbulance. You don't know how it's going to turn out; but you know it's coming; you can feel it. Since much of my art is an attempt to understand my own creativity —why it's happening, what's nudging it along, and what that turbulance feels like— I've been painting skies. But I have an unusual technique. I begin with oils and acrylics, painting semi-abstract jumbles on canvas or board. Then I use my camera to explore the work from extreme angels, thereby discovering entirely new horizon lines that I didn't realize existed before. I print the photos out and often go at them again with more paint. I feel this technique allows me to use perspective twice; once in the initial painting using lines and color, and second time in-camera using angles, cropping, focus, and depth of field. Collectors are encouraged to group these in series of either 4, 6, 8, 10, 12 or more, as a way to illustrate the ever-changing expanse within creative mind.