These pages of a painted journal were inspired by the collected poetry of Octavio Paz.

Alone and isolated in Mexico and at a crossroad, poetry and emptiness became my guides. Each blank page presented a charged entry into the world of abstraction. This wordless dialogue spoke to the eye about a rawness that one rarely can dwell on. The chapters were created from torn pages of discarded spanish books from the Bibleoteca in San Miquel De Allende. Random fragmented words were collaged into a haze of white translucent paint. Shapes emerged and disappeared in the emptiness. Each day doves and the cool breath of the evening winds rustling dry leaves in the garden evoked a night score. Forms like musical notes marked the pages into a rhythmic frenzy, while tension held the exchange. The journal became the heart singing to the eye, like the words of Octavio that spill from the soul and get lost in the shadows of unturned pages.