Puerta la Paz

I spent one winter month in Lima, Péru, the home of my wife’s family, and came equipped to paint. What I did not know was that Lima is cloudy and damp all winter and the light is flat and lifeless. Everything appears limp and grey without sunlight to embolden the colors and call out the

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En el Jardín de Mi Tía

My wife was born in Arequipa, Péru, a mountain town that was formerly a hub of international trade. She grew up there for her first six years and spent many happy days in this house. It belonged to her tíos de cariño––her uncle and aunt of the heart––and to a cousin, all of whom are as

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