I began painting Buddhas and Bodhisattvas after a four-year meditation retreat in 1996-2000. I had devoted five hours a day doing mantra practice, yoga and silent meditation. It was out of my meditation that my wish to paint the Bodhisattvas began. My first projects where very traditional. I painted on plaster with acrylic paints and with a crackle and antique finish. But after two years of painting, I became increasingly disappointed with my art because it lack spontaneity and freedom. I started a new project of painting the 33 aspects of Guanyin that was described in a Chinese Buddhist text from the 6th century. For this I created a hand-made book much like the folding books that are found in China or Japan. I painted the different aspects of Guanyin on rice paper with sumi ink and water-color and mounted the paintings on the pages of the book. This project took me a few years to complete. It was only until the end of the project that the Bodhisattvas that I dreamed of painting began to self-arise. In 2008-9, I was living in the South of France in a small town on the French and Italian border with a bird’s eye view of the sea. I was in a place in my life that everything was breaking down. My dear friend reminded me, “There is no break-through without breakage.” On a warm summer day I was painting outside on the porch with water colors. I began to just allowed my brush to freely fly across the paper. And there she was, my first painting of Yi-yao Gwanyin “Medicine Guanyin.” I was so shocked and happy. I could not believe I had painted her. It was exactly what I was looking for in all the years of my painting. She was a mix of both form and formlessness. Her lines were free-flowing and her colors were as blue as the Mediterranean Sea.