Old Ground

I feel connected to rough and open lands. These paintings feel like England and Scotland, not the England and Scotland of maps or postcards, but of bloodline. Of ancestry. The landscape lives in me. The ground I feel connected to is old.

I find myself in wonderment at the sheer depth of what came before. How many people lived and loved and broke and healed, so that my life could be possible. I think of all the stories never recorded, all the beauty witnessed by eyes I will never know. The dreams. The heartbreak. All of it carried forward. Inherited memory, still alive in me.