For me, paintings are alive: alchemical first matter. As the encounter between the raw canvas and my painting-self begins, we seem to enter into darkness, almost unseen. We don’t know what form this time together takes and we like it this way. Lying fallow, I sit with the painting, taking time with it, getting to know it. Something new registers and I’m surprised that I never noticed it before. The milky flow between us feels good and though I’d like to exist forever in its movement, the painting seeks more. It desires the moon to dance with the sun.

The Latin word Rosarium translates as ‘Rose Garden’ and ‘Rosary.’ Rose Garden is thought to refer to structure of the volume as a collection of sayings and ideas (of philosophers). However, the word Opuscula in the long title translates as ‘little works’ and also as ‘trifles’ and is, for example, used for several volumes of little works by Thomas Aquinas. Why, therefore, would the term Rosarium be used to describe what is already understood by the word Opuscula?