Westerly

I remember the huge fields in my backyard where the grass got so tall that a little crouching could hide you completely. The large Jacaranda tree whose branches seemed to reach out impossibly from its trunk hovering above. Forests of Ivy marching over our fence from the over-infested neighbor’s yard. These images are reflections of these and other memories of nature collected mostly from my own backyard paradise as a child. But all collective of the westerly feeling under which I grew. And that impressed upon me its sense of aesthetics as part of my own.