I was born at high tide within sound of the salt waves on the Atlantic shore of southeast Virginia in 1943. Home was a peach orchard, honey bees, gardens, and flowers. My father, a farmer and preacher taught me spirit. My mother, a gardener and poet,
taught me flowers. Roses. Early mysteries, infusion of fragrance and color into shape.
Got a Kodak Brownie camera at age twelve. Black and white images of flowers and friends, the unfolding between past and future. My family moved to Richmond, then to Shenandoah Valley. Always flowers in mother’s gardens. Always roses.
Met Priscilla at Eastern Mennonite College. Did graduate studies at The University of Virginia. We studied French in Brussels. Photos. Kodachrome capture of flowers and friends.
We taught in Congo and West Bank. Moved to Pennsylvania. Got jobs. Raised two children. Flower gardens. Roses. Photos of their energies unfolding. Darkroom to digital. Studies of the mysteries. New images flooding the mind. Where do roses come from? Amazement. This brilliant edge of energy shifting into matter. Gratitude. Manifestation of spirit into the form of a rose. This rose. Here. Now.
is that these images are portals of light and spiritual energy disguised as flowers. Several years ago they began flooding my inner vision, demanding a material manifestation in this space and time.
Now these harbingers are here. They radiate healing and harmony into this evolution. They channel higher information into the environmental space and flood the inner space of the viewer. The energies flowing through these portals whisper among themselves to generate subtle harmonic resonances in relation to the space and the beings who enter the space. One knows it where one feels it. More images are on the way. They transmit the heart vibration of a larger shift.