Our eyes needed to adjust to the dark anteroom. Then, the short brush strokes and bold contrasting colors were immediately recognized. Flowers and fields. The bedroom. The hospital. Snippets of information of the man and artist that left me wondering what I would have asked him if we could have shared a table and coffee on a Parisian promenade. Harvests and irises. Cafes and boulevards. Starry nights and full moons. Cypress trees and tree roots. Portraits of others. Portraits of self that revealed the old, troubled soul of a much younger man. Benches and chairs to sit within his paintings. Space designed to allow one to slow down from a hectic week and simply be immersed in the brilliance of his art.