I paint because I am.  I paint because it's what I know.  It's my joy, my pain, it's everything I've been through, everywhere I've been and everything I'll ever be.  It's me, in full colour, sometimes bold and bright, sometimes dark and quiet, but it's all me and it's all from the heart.

​The child looked around with wonder. Things were not perfect. It was a difficult childhood. The father was not there. Some nights the big house was too quiet. The child cried in the dark from missing his father. The boy had a deep imagination. That caused pain and sleepless nights. That imagination would be positive later. The boy became a man and the artist was born. There was triumph.

​By Carl Parker