It was a cold winter that year, our first in the old house by the edge of the woods. Dormant earth was blanketed by heavy snow and in a somber ascetic mood I dreamed of the North. This painting of the root vegetables reflected my preoccupation with savoring hidden richness and warmth of the inner life. The confines of the deep underground is a subtle and fertile environment that gives birth to muted beauty accustomed to the dark. Rough, stern and full of character these peasant gems glow like prehistoric amber providing solidity and solace in these uncertain times.