Neatly folding and filing away my wonderful abstract world of sound and vision into acceptable and comprehensible black and white behavior became a process that mechanically and methodically split my all too fragile psyche into incomprehensible pieces that I no longer recognized or even cared to know.

At the tender age of seven I was experiencing my first identity crisis! And who was to rescue me from this world of structure and madness?

Who but the mad man himself! My all time hero and savior forever. The hero of all heroes, Salvador Dali.

Dali! The re-discovery of the value of dreams. The re-discovery of the liquid universal order that preceded birth. So welcome and so admired. And so lucky was I that his life here overlapped mine.

At the tender age of seven I had discovered the meaning and the foundation and understood all through
Salvador Dali.