Dad and I crushed grapes with a baseball bat out in the garage when I was 4. We were making wine. The aroma of crushed grapes was everywhere. Dad loved his hobby - and drinking wine. His friends loved making and drinking wind too. So they bought a farm in Sunnyside, Washington to grow their own grapes. 

        It was a long drive through steep, rocky passes past Mount Rainier to the dry side of the mountains We'd pick juicy peaches, pears and cherries too. And then we'd go to the best Mexican restaurant ever in Zilla, Washington. The vineyards and farmland were beautiful! They seemed to go on forever. These paintings celebrate those experiences in the vineyards.