People often say the artists paint by their eyes, but I myself do not understand why I paint by my ears. I often sit alone, close my eyes and listen to the sound from the life, from the memory, listen to the echo from somewhere
The wind from somewhere is same to the echo of time immemorial
My way I am walking has imprinted a lot of the people .
The blades of grass, foot of the trees are quivering as talking together
The rustle of the storks in the sky is same to calling for the freedom
Suddenly, I am aware of something which .
Updated on November 8th 2010
I am in the process of compiling my past and current exhibition opportunities.
Numerous private, corporate, museum, gallery and government collections detailed information coming soon.
Personal info and favorite links and sites coming soon.