Zoppot, my muse, my paradise lost, I remember you as in a dream—a luminous vision with a moderate climate and little humidity to diffuse the clarity of blue or sharpness of edge. A contrast of light and shadow, of warmth and coolness, of clouds forming gradually in the far distance to predict a rainfall several days hence. Vera Klement

I am a painter, a word that was synonymous with artist when I was young. I paint paintings with paint and have in an art world spinning out of orbit into a space of endless dazzling possibilities, limited my choices, set limitations to abide by. Rules, harsh rules that make “making” more difficult yet more intense, rules that keep me from empty repetition, from cranking out a product mindlessly as on an assembly line. Rules that lead to discovery. Limitations that lead to invention. Vera Klement