Do you remember telling me at my 50th birthday lunch with you that I "am searching”? You were so right on—at age 65 I am still searching—searching for a visual response to my time now as well as a response to the continuum. A search can take place in the studio. A search can last forty-five minutes or it can take place over a year long period. Your comment that I was a "virtuoso painter and an excellent writer" intrigued me at the time. Do you remember my quick response of an incredulous " Stella!!"? I knew I wasn't a virtuoso for it is hard for me to paint. I've always thought virtuosity implied facility rather than depth. I know I am deeply involved with essence now, as well as with essence of the past as you also were. I wondered about your response to my work, exactly what prompted such a description. I never really accepted your comment as representing your feelings or insights. Your body of work did that for me. I loved you so deeply and I knew we were soul mates. I'm so much more confident now about who I have been. I now accept myself both as a painter and as an intellectual with a visual eye. It has taken a long time for me to believe that it was valid for me to be an intellectual. The bohemian myth as a role model for an artist is no longer embedded in my psychology. You understood and loved both sides of me. I'll never forget the times you said 'I love you' instead of goodbye. And asked, 'aren't you my daughter?' But I was your daughter in less painterly ways-I called weekly to discuss your daily life as well as to be in touch with your more profound inspirations. I never lost my faith in you, Stella. Realistically however, I was poor for so long and couldn't afford much paint or wine, did not smoke, and wasn't very bohemian. I was just poor. You were bohemian and I yearned to be Stella. I too wanted to have chipped plates and not be bothered by them. I loved your free spirit and your youthfulness.