I know it may sound preposterous to write "This afternoon I visited an old friend who became a magician and who lives in an enchanted forest." - but there it is. With magic you have to be careful not to show everything right off the bat, so I'm going to portion out the images.
It seems a particular honor to have a magician with an enchanted forest collect your paintings. One of the reasons for my visit was to get a photograph of a painting that I did in my late teens of the ancient white oak that stood near my father's homeplace. It was one of the largest oaks I've ever seen, with limbs bigger than most trees. Since that oak is a thing of much interest in the new piece I'm working on, (There's a photo of my grandfather standing under it.) - I started thinking and realized that the painting I did of it in my teens is actually the only complete image of the tree. Even with a large canvas, painted from the midst of the field on the west side of the tree, looking up toward the top of Dutton Hill, the outer branches couldn't be entirely fitted in. This amazing tree, with a hollow large enough to sit inside, stood there through the Civil War. After the homeplace was sold, the developer pushed the tree down and buried it with a bulldozer.
The other paintings, and a carved & glazed porcelain plate, are also from my late teens.