The summer of 1972…it was a revelatory moment…the first time that how an artist sees the world and communicates with us came to my consciousness. Driving through the Black Hills of South Dakota on a late summer afternoon, a gentle rise in the road and the dip down into a valley–there was the sun setting and casting a fiery light across the landscape and I had that “aha” moment. “Cezanne…orange and green, that’s where it comes from.” Simple yes, but enlightening nonetheless to have shared at least for that brief glimpse the same vision and the same language that he utilizes in so many of his landscapes. I can’t say that I didn’t understand his work consciously before, but the seeing made it come clear. The coin dropped in my mind’s nickelodeon and the understanding began to unspool itself. I know that from then on I had a different innate understanding of the power of the visual artist’s language. That reaching down deep inside you, and I think it’s in all of us, the ability to find that commonality — a common understanding that brings the chaos of the world into focus; collecting is the coin.