category architecture
Sketchbooks and journals have been my constant companions since my life transitioned dramatically from medicine to art in 1975. Although each serves a specific function, they often become inseparable, sharing the task of keeping me sane, and occasionally, even centered.

Who would know my dreams, my fears
All the hopes through all the years


My rooms, my spaces, large and small
Would anyone really care, at all


Books and journals, neat and tattered
Which in my time were all that mattered


An empty pen, long since gone dry
That in its time kept my


World of dreams and aspirations
Bound in notes and illustrations


When I depart from who knows where
Will anybody really care


About all the things I cherished so
And with great reluctance, let them go


(From Transitions)