April of 2009 found me adapting to viewing the world with one eye, the world viewing me with a pirate patch, and trying to figure out what to do next with my professional life.  Nothing can shift one’s life perspective quicker than simultaneously being diagnosed with melanoma on the retina and having one’s business of 30 years go under due to the economy. Coming home from the Duke Hospital after treatment for the cancer, my daughter Daidree suggested that when my strength came back, we go buy an easel.   Over the years, I have always said I was going to take up painting in retirement…there was at least one good painting in me.  The thought occurred to me then that as unfair as the notion seemed, not everyone reaches retirement age. A few days after getting back home, we ventured out to a local art supply store to buy an easel and art supplies.  We brought everything home and set up a mini-studio in my bedroom.  The first painting was of Daidree….18 months old….at the beach…..in a pink polka-dot bathing suit.  I jumped into that painting with an abandon that I had not felt in years. Thus began my monocular journey.  Exquisite irony is having to lose sight literally to gain sight figuratively.  About three days into working on the painting, my mother walked by my bedroom and exclaimed, “Val, you’re not supposed to be able to do that!  People study for years to learn to paint people like you’re doing.”  She liked it.  Mom, my first fan and critic.  What an awesome feeling that was - and still is - when someone likes one of my paintings. My friend, Bambi Owensby, calls me a “naïve” artist.  I call myself inspired and blessed.  Inspired by God and blessed to have found something I love doing this much.  My wish is that you find this collection a delight to view, as much as it was a delight to create.