In the 1960's an uncle who lived several states away affected my understanding of art and the human soul. He was a talented artist, but after many years of drug addiction, his art began to exhibit a convoluted desperation that only he understood. No one wanted his paintings but I ended up with one when he died, it was a painting of Jesus' face, and his story stayed with me. That is why I donate my time towards painting murals in school and working with troubled teens, teaching them to "do art" not drugs.
