For months after my mother died, nature did some really dramatic things that were hard to ignore. A particular afternoon at Lake Jocassee with all my siblings was one of the most beautiful. A storm came in and that deep, clear lake revealed colors that were like the facets of an emerald. By contrast the darkening sky looked purple. When I started painting the memory of that sky, all these angelic beings just showed up in the paint and then there were shapes that looked like creation itself. Watching the storm seemed to be one kind of a mystical experience and then the painting of that experience seemed to be another.