3000 rocks, pointing skyward for 6500 years are endlessly pregnant with meaning lost to those who look only at surfaces. I have wandered between these standing stones and am now and forever drawn to them, the Alignments at Carnac. Read my paintings and drawings as poems written for you in a language prehistoric. Don’t be surprised that you already recognize as familiar this unwritten tongue. If you don’t worry about the spelling you can hear the music, feel the cadence, hear past the lack of logic.