I am an artist. The canvas has been an active part of my path since 1997. Only twice has a painting returned to me years after it was relinquished. What does that mean to an artist? Is there a deeper story for the writer in me to listen to? What did the canvas experience that has called out to me 14 years after its departure? I believe we all face such returns. We are reminded instantly of who we once were. But rarely do we think it's still part of the process of who we'd like to become tomorrow. The one thing I'm extremely proud of is how my creative process refuses to see itself as a middle aged man. When art returns it says to me, "Inspire and influence another. Teach someone to paint their own path. Pick up the brush and bring new life to the ageless soul." How open are you to using the tools from yesterday in the process of becoming tomorrow?