These apples where painted in the bright light of my Heber City, Utah studio. Apples laid out on a tablecloth, gifted me by a dear friend's mother. Apples, my son refused to eat because they weren't his beloved "honeycrisp." Apples made by sunshine, water, the clouds, the mountains. Apples made by our stories, our memories, our names, our beliefs.
What is an apple before you put a name to it? ...just some of questions arising in the studio.