What we expect to see when we look at a painting is fascinating to me. Do we need to recognize images there? Is this always necessary, or just sometimes? Is this an expectation shared with particular persons, our culture as a whole, or sometimes both? If landscapes, portraits, and still lifes top the popularity list for paintings, what does this tell us? Apparently, that most of us want to look into a framed space and see ourselves: our homes, what and whom we love, where our hearts yearn to go. But can we see these things in shapes and textures and colors not explicitly identifiable? Even if they are, what one person sees in that realistic image will not necessarily be the image seen by another. I bought a tiny sculpture of a manatee because it looked just like my basset hound. Likely, nobody else saw a basset hound in this figure, and I’m positive the sculptor did not have my dog in mind when he or she carved it. Nevertheless, I think of her again every time my eye rests upon it, and I’m glad I bought it. I have not painted children and pets and western horizons. But again, yes, I have. I hope I have painted our passions, our yearnings, our drifting, our fears, our sense of the numinous. You must fill in the blanks. It is in the blank spaces that we find ourselves.