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An Interview with

Charles Muench

by James Leonard-Amodeo
Interviews
If you're an artist and would like to be interviewed, please contact us.
Please note that there is a fee associated with an interview.
The Directories of American Art Galleries
August 2002
INTRODUCTION

          Charles Muench calls himself a "representational painter." He speaks in the language of paint. His paintings have a dreamy realism about them. The first time I saw Mount Tallac, one of Muench's plein air scenes, I was drawn into the picture and felt as if I were there, at the foot of that mountain, in awe at the majesty towering before me. The effect was created by the classical technique of the stream painted on the lower-right base of the canvas and leading the viewer into the picture, toward the left. Impressionistic painters like Monet used the device as did earlier, Italian painters. The scene was enhanced by Muench's clever use of light, set horizontally two-thirds of the way down from the mountain and issuing from top right to left in a downward flow.
          Anyone who has stood before one of Muench's majestic landscapes cannot deny the truth of these words from the artist "I want my still life paintings to be more than pretty arrangements of varied textures and hues. I want my landscapes to have such a feel of Nature that when you put a thermometer up to them, the mercury will rise or fall in accordance with the subject depicted."  He has succeeded so admirably in  accomplishing this that his landscapes almost reflect a musical symphony which attracts the senses and draw you in.
          "The basic concepts of painting are relatively simple to comprehend," says Charles. "The subtle variations, which have enticed and challenged great minds throughout history, are what fuel my fire. Brushstrokes are the footprints of the artist's emotions. I plan on leaving many tracks."  And so far he has left  many tracks in the more than 1,000 paintings he's created since 1988,  when he entered his first show at the Art Students League Concourse Exhibition in New York.
          Today the "tracks" that Muench has traced claim a decent price and are
represented by such galleries as The Bingham Gallery (Salt Lake City, UT), The Morseburg Gallery in LA, Pam Driscol Gallery (Aspen, CO), The Pogan Gallery (Tahoe City, CA), The Vault (Sonora, CA), and others.
          The following interview took place in between Charles' plein air excursions. He'd leave to paint early in the morning and get back in the afternoon or evening, answering my questions. Near the end of our interview he emailed me saying he was in pain because he had been splitting wood all day and accidentally smashed his fingers between a large log and a wood splitter.  "It's like slamming the car door on your fingers, only it hurts," he commented. As a consequence of this accident, Charles concluded: "anyone considering a career as an artist should avoid cutting wood"!
          On the other hand, there always seems to be a reward for the pain that some people have to endure. Consequently, Charles got his reward because upon returning to his Markleeville home from a two week painting trip where he participated in the California Art Club's San Juan Capistrano Paint Out and the Maynard Dixon Country Exhibition in Utah, he found that some neighbors had delivered wood. They promised to supply him with winter fuel if he promises to avoid chainsaws and create a painting for them. A fine reward, indeed!
          Charles moved to Markleeville (Alpine County, California) from Silicon Valley in 2001. The transition from big city to country living has had a tremendous influence on his work. Moving up to the mountains "was a huge gamble in all aspects of my life," he says. "But the result has been an accelerated development of my painting style. It is so inspiring up here. I know that there is art and beauty in everything, but I never found my muse living in the suburbs. I spent many years staring at car bumpers and shopping malls, and was never moved to paint them. I am at home up here. My work has become so intertwined with the changing seasons. Whether it be a model by the rushing streams of spring, or sketching in a snowstorm, my work and my environment are now inseparable. It's so different than planning a three day trip to somewhere, hoping to be inspired and sketch. That's almost too much pressure to put on oneself. To constantly be inspired by your surroundings should be the goal of every artist. It can be Canal Street in Manhattan or Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco. It can be the rolling oaks of the California foothills, or the plains of Nebraska. By immersing yourself in that which inspires you, you will discover new and far more subtle subjects for painting."
          Despite the inconvenience of the mountain snow in winter and some smashed
fingers in the fall, Charles is as happy as a squirrel in the mountains doing what he loves best: painting!


___________________________________________



The first Charles Muench painting I saw was at the Vault Gallery in Sonora, California (Washington Street). I really liked what I saw. Landscape painting seems to fit you like a glove because you do such a fine job at it. But are you strictly a landscape painter?
          Landscape may fit me like a glove, but it is not my only glove. Have you noticed how compartmentalized a lot of artists have become? It's almost like specialists in medicine. There are painters who only do close ups of farm animals. There are painters who only do serpentine streams in pastureland at twilight. There are painters who only do Dutch style still life paintings. I believe to base a career on such a limited repertoire is like living in a cage. If you become famous for doing that one thing, how can you ever break out of it?
          In both my figure, still life, and landscape paintings I have being trying to unify the varied subject matter through my brushstrokes. There was a time when my studio figure work had a level of refinement that was not in my landscape. I have worked hard to infuse my figurative work with the boldness of my landscape and bring some of the studio draftsmanship into my landscape. It is a challenge that few artists these days are even attempting. Several years ago, I was selling primarily still life paintings. Because I don't want to be a genre painter, I forced my galleries to take my landscape paintings. Now that I have established a market for my landscapes, I am building a market for my figure work. I want to be a "painter," not a "painter of this or that."


Do you have a favorite spot where you go to extract scenes for your landscapes? Why even go out to paint? Why not just paint from a photograph in your studio?
          Yesterday I did some sketching along the Carson River in Hope Valley [Alpine County, CA]. The mid-day light on the river is beautiful. I enjoy painting the translucence and layered reflections of the slow moving alpine waters- the rich violet shadows cast by the warm green/sienna rocks. It is more fun than fishing. Today, still not satiated from water painting, I sketched from a bridge above the Carson, looking down into a pool of emerald and turquoise. I sketched as several fishermen tried their luck at the many trout languidly passing the day in the shadows of the rocks. Two kids fished for over an hour. Both became part of the sketch. It serves an example as to why it is so important to sketch out of doors.
          One must remember that a photograph captures about 1/250th of a second of life. An outdoor painting becomes a distillation of hours of existence into one unified moment. Even trying to catch the evanescence of twilight or sunrise, the artist inevitably brings to the painting countless other sunrises and sunsets.


The Visual Arts are highly subjective. It is very difficult making objective valuations. For example,  I am attracted to your landscapes more than I am to your figuratives. For me there are reasons for this. What do you think of the opinions of critics?
          To approach this idea of critique from a representational artist's perspective, what is of use are comments on drawing, edges, paint application, color, composition and values (dark to light.) Yes, painting is subjective. But, there are objective comments that can be made by like-minded people to help improve the art. If Richard Schmid were to offer me critique, he would speak in the terms described above. If Jackson Pollock were to offer critique, he would rant and wave his arms about and probably not say anything to help me in my painting. I am always pleased when my patrons enjoy my works for reasons other than that which I intended--the memory of a place in a landscape, the recollection of their youth in a figurative piece. But their experiences are not my intent. Like coral on a reef, they add their experiences to my art to make it their own. And isn't that what all art is about? A songwriter may have written the lyrics to explain feelings for a dying relative, but to you it brings back memories of prom night. Art is the soil for growing our emotions. So, in terms of critique, I must be wary of the subjective comments. Like Silly Putty on newspaper, everything makes an imprint on me. If I were to take each individual's personal likes and dislikes regarding my art to heart, my painting would have such discord that it would make sense to no one. I am a bit on the defensive when it concerns subjective critique. As a representational painter, I speak in a language of paint. And, as in writing, there are tangible aspects which can be discussed. The subjective, that is the mystery of art and personal to the viewer. It is meant to be discussed over wine. In short, musicians talk notes, writers talk words, and painters talk brushstrokes.


I was wondering about your family name, "Muench". Isn't it German?
          Yes.


I read somewhere (may have been in your Biography) that you're from Florida. Can you tell me something of your background living back East? Also, how did you come upon painting? Were your parents, brothers, sisters, fine artists? Where does the influence come from? I mean, why didn't you choose to be a medical doctor or a professional musician, for example, instead of a Fine Artist?
          I moved to California from Florida when I was six. I have always enjoyed drawing and doodling. I started painting in oils around 14. I was influenced early on by my grandfather, William F. Muench. He painted for his own enjoyment. In the 20's he painted and drew from the model at the Chicago Art Institute. I still have his drawings. He also painted plein air with palette knife. His landscapes have a bold abstraction which is missing in his highly accomplished figurative pieces. He was also an admirer of Anders Zorn and I grew up with several Zorn copies hanging on the walls. A good part of my college education was spent looking for...something. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, but I knew what I did not. Abstraction, "touchy-feely" art classes where everything was good and nothing was offered in terms of guidance or critique. I finally met Maynard D. Stewart at San Jose State and he opened the doors to American Traditionalism. His instruction was invaluable in my development. We are still in touch. Upon Mr. Stewart's retirement, he recommended I go to the Art Students League of New York.
          I was 15 when I decided that I wanted to be a professional artist. As the years go on, it becomes more and more apparent that I made the only choice I could. I have rarely gone longer than two weeks without painting. The process of creating emotions, the illusion of life through pigment and canvas, is as essential to me as food or water. Part of my ability to develop, both creatively and financially, as an artist is the fact that I must paint. I also enjoy the timeless quality of paints.
          When I was 14, I wrote my own word processing program using the old Apple II computers. I also wrote an Othello program and my nerdy friend and I had our
computers play each other to see whose program was better. Two things steered me
away from what was to be the beginning of the tech age: 1, even at 14-15, I realized how fast technology was increasing. I spent a summer teaching myself a now dead language, "Pascal." No sooner did I get a grip on the language, it became outdated. The second reason was girls, but that's a different story.
          I prefer the slower technology of oil painting. Yes, "new" products come out all the time. But, really, the last innovative breakthrough was the invention of tube paints in the 1800's. I'll take Hogs bristle, linseed oil, and linen over silicon chips, megabytes, and cd burners any day. And the reason we still use these seemingly primitive materials is simply because there is nothing better. Don't even get me started on Acrylic painting! Blechh. All this being said, I could not survive as an artist without a computer. It allows me to live in a remote mountain town while still keeping in touch with clients and galleries through e-mail.


When you were 14 you were deeply interested in computers. So you were a "nerd"?
          Briefly.


You speak of the process of creating emotions, the illusion of life through pigment and canvas.  Specifically, you use the word process. This is interesting. What is this "process" whereby you create emotions? Do you mean the process the artist uses in laying out color or in layering it or...??? 
          One of my quotes which I use when teaching is "Painting is a process. We paint because we enjoy the act of interacting with our subject (nature, still life, figure) and creating a dialog in paint. The result of this process, or the byproduct, is the finished painting. Don't paint for the sole goal of getting a painting done."


What is "emotion" in speaking of a painting?
          The "emotion" in a painting is a culmination of all the tangible aspects of art--value, perspective, edges, color, paint application, etc. As discussed before, the "emotion" is also a  combination of what the artist intended and what the viewer brings to the painting (evoked memories, etc.).


Back in the early 80s i studied advertising and we dwelt on the psychological effect of color. We know through scientific study how red attracts and stimulates. We also know that the big corporations make many color studies (in product labels destined for supermarkets, for example) to determine the combinations that sell best or, at least, the combinations that attract people most (it is no accident that MacDonald's uses red and yellow in its name). I was wondering, would a fine artist note and take account of such scientific studies for application onto his creations or does the act of creation preclude such considerations?
          I don't think that way. Maybe some artists do. I strive for the more abstract concept of color harmony. And I never paint to match someone's couch!!!!!!


You state that you "enjoy the timeless quality of paints". The word "timeless" sort of throws me because i know how many millions of dollars museums usually spend in restoring a da Vinci, for example. "Timeless"??
          As an aside, Leonardo was a notorious experimenter. The Last supper was
crumbling within his lifetime. Bad technique. Look at Velasquez. 350 years and going strong! Actually, by "timeless" I meant the organic nature of the materials. Pigments (many made of minerals and rock) ground in oil and applied with animal hairs onto a linen support. It's not instant, outdated, new and improved, contemporary plasticity stuff. Take charcoal drawing. How far has that technology improved since our buddies in Lascaux created art in caves 10,000 years ago? Not much. Why? Because it works fine and nothing better has been found.


Two things steered you away from the tech age: the fast pace of change in the
computer world, and girls. What about the girls? Are you married now? Any children? How old are you?
          I'm not married and have no children. I plan on getting married, I just haven't told her yet. Actually, I haven't even met her yet-- the right one anyway. I'm 36. Not old, but no longer young.


Do you have a particular modus operandi for palette preparation?
          I have a basic palette with basic colors. I have been using Dioxazine Violet, recently. It's a fun color. One should always experiment with their palette. It should always be in a slight state of flux.


Is there any specific approach to the palette you would recommend to other artists?
          A palette is like a keyboard. It should be organized and clean with paint put out the same way each time. You should almost not have to look down at the palette to pick up paint. Imagine if a pianist had to deal with re-arranged keys with every performance!


Would you say that the subject determines the palette? or do you consider the palette an independent entity from the subject?
          Slight additions or subtractions of colors may be necessary, depending on the subject.


When using oils, do you have a preferred manufacturer? Have you ever experimented making your own pigments from scratch?
          Windsor Newton and Gamblin make up my pigments. Robert Gamblin is a nice
person and will answer questions regarding his paint. A real human to talk to! Too much to paint to be grinding pigments. Leave it to the professionals.


You have expressed distaste for acrylic paints. Why is this? What's wrong with acrylics? I remember having studied how at a certain point in history watercolor wasn't considered seriously. Today some of the best paintings are in watercolor. Might we not say that the same is true for acrylics?
          Watercolor is a medium with it's unique characteristics. A watercolor looks like a watercolor. An oil painting looks like an oil painting. Pastel looks like a pastel painting. The best that can be said for acrylic is that it looks like an oil painting. I guess some people prefer artificial chocolate syrup to pure milk chocolate or near-beer to Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. Not me. Also, it's fun to voice a strong opinion once in a while to get a rise out of people. I'm sure any acrylic painter who reads this will growl. Good fun.


I notice when you paint outdoors you use an umbrella and a sheet. Can you explain why you use these?
          The sheet is a way for me to control the light on the model. I hung it there to block the sun (see picture). The umbrella is usually used to keep direct sun off of my painting and palette. In this case, it is used to keep the sun off of the model.


Can you give us an historical account explaining what led you to become a plein air painter?
          It was my instructor, Maynard D. Stewart, who convinced me that the only way to paint well was to study directly from nature. There really are no short cuts. Also, looking at the works of Sargent and Sorolla helps to show what can be achieved working from life. If it was good enough for them, it's good enough for me.


Who are the plein air painters you most admire?
          I like most of the American Impressionists. Edgar Payne, William Wendt, Guy Rose, etc. A few of the contemporary painters whose work I admire are Scott Christensen, Clyde Aspevig, Ray Roberts, John Budicin, to name but a few.


What would you suggest is the best time of day to start the hike for plein air painting (dawn, early morning, afternoon, evening)?
          Generally, the light effect is most dramatic in the morning and evening hours. The long shadows create contrast and drama. In the mid day, especially in summer when the sun is directly overhead, the light can be "flat." The landscape is saturated with light, eliminating depth. This is a good time to paint a section of the landscape-- a study or a forest interior or a log by a stream. It's also a good time to get lunch and rest up for the evening painting. I find that if I get going too late in the morning, I feel like I might be missing the "good stuff." Familiarity with the landscape and painting experience will help you to anticipate when the light is going to be ideal.


When you go out to paint en plein air, do you take every tube of paint or do
you keep it down to only 6 colors?
          I take my standard palette: Titanium white, Cadmium Lemon, Cadmium Yellow
Light, Yellow Ochre, Raw Sienna, Cadmium Orange, Windsor Red, Permanent Alizarin
Crimson (Winsor Newton), Dioxazine Violet, Burnt Sienna, Prussian Blue, and Ivory Black. Some of these colors are for convenience and can be pre-mixed using a smaller palette. If I'm need to scale back, I'll eliminate Cad Orange, Dioxazine Violet, and Raw Sienna.


What about brushes? How many do you take with you?
          I take WAY too many brushes. It's a habit I developed while painting in New York. Instead of using a few brushes and cleaning them in my mineral spirits every time I need to change color, I simply grab another brush. My logic is this: first, by using so many fresh brushes, it keeps my colors from getting muddled with the mineral spirits and other pigments. Second, time is of the essence while in the field. It's quicker to grab a brush. Yes, it means at the end of the day I can have anywhere from 10 to 20 brushes to clean. But, I can clean them at my leisure in my studio and enjoy a beer!


What do you consider to be the most indispensable of what you bring (snacks, bug
spray, paper towels, etc...)?
          White Paint. It sounds silly, but if you forget that, you're out of the game. Before I leave the studio in the morning, I imagine that I'm setting up my easel and run through everything I'd touch. Easel, Palette, Umbrella, Paints, Paint Brushes, mineral spirits, paper towels...etc. This is a very helpful method to keep from forgetting things. A few weeks ago I was off to a late start and did not follow the above procedure. I wound up leaving my French easel behind. That was a short trip.


Do you work on one 12 x 16 inch-ish panel when you go out, or on several small 8x10's to take back to your studio? Can you explain this choice?
          I generally bring a wide selection of sizes. 6x8, 8x 10, 10 x 12, 12 x 16, and maybe a 16 x 20. I like to have as many choices as possible. If necessary, I can crop the 10 x 12 into 9 x 12 back in the studio. It's a versatile size.


Do you try to get a complete painting when outside? Could you elaborate on the
reasons for your answer?
          I try to create a finished piece most of the time. Occasionally, I'll do a color sketch. But that's mainly for transient effects like sunrise and sunset. I believe it takes a mental commitment and influences your approach to painting to go in with the attitude that if you are focused and truly in tune with the process, the end result should be a satisfying painting. I think the attitude of "I'll just get some of the shapes in and finish it from photographs" leads to sloppy work and softens your ability to study nature.


Do you do several studio paintings from one plein air?
          Some times the field painting makes such a complete statement that I see no reason to expand on it. Other times, I feel changes in composition or other aspects of painting will improve it. So, I'll do a studio piece. I rarely will make significant changes directly to the sketch. They generally get messed up if I fuss with them. And, of course, sometimes the sketch is so poor I wipe it out. And I hate when that happens!


Some artists take landscape reference photos outside to work from in their studios. Do you?
          Almost always. With a good understanding of landscape painting and a strong field sketch, reference photos can be extremely helpful in developing larger works. However, driving down the highway and taking snap shots to work up in the studio is a complete waste of time. If you are just starting, avoid the camera. It can quickly become a crutch. Spend at least one full year painting out doors before you even think of doing studio work with photos. You've been warned!


Can you outline some of the differences that might exist between a landscape painting done from a photograph and a landscape painting done from real life? Can the results ever be the same? Why?
          The values in paintings done from photographs are almost always wrong. If the artist does not have enough experience painting outdoors, they accept the lies of the photo. Their shadows are too dark, their clouds are too white, etc. The result is usually a painting that looks like it was done from a photograph. It has no quality of life or nature.


When Van Gogh lived in Arles he used to paint en plein air for many, many hours, not caring about food, the heat of the sun, etc. This appears to be an exaggeration indicative of over zealousness. How many hours do you stay out to paint? Did it take you long to reach a good working knowledge of the number of hours you could tolerate staying outside or is this an irrelevant consideration? What is a good rule of thumb?
          Sometimes I'll paint all day. Usually, if I'm traveling or participating in a plein air event, I try to maximize my time and complete three paintings a day. A morning, a mid-day study, and an evening. Other times, I'll do one sketch and call it a day. As long as I am reasonably comfortable, I can  spend all day out there. If I'm tired, I stop. If I'm too hungry, I eat. Remember, we must first satisfy the animal in us so the spirit can soar.


Do you stand or sit when plein air painting?
          I stand most of the time. This allows me to stand back and get a good look at my painting.


One of the problems in plein air painting is trying to capture the fleeting daylight. Is the solution simply to work fast, before the light changes, or have you found other tricks? Any other suggestions on this point?
          Work fast, lay in your big shapes and color relationships, and go for detail last. Don't try to chase the light effect. Simply state the light you are trying to capture and refine from there. It's difficult and takes time to master, but when trying to capture fleeting effects, it's the only way to go about it. Also, if time permits, returning to the spot over several days allows you to develop the painting.


Do you have any advice for the aspiring plein air painter?
Don't rely on photographs and paint from life. Don't try to paint like other artists. Look for your own solutions.


Can you tell us where you displayed your first piece of artwork?
          1st Grade Dental Awareness competition. I drew a momma bird feeding worms to her chicks with the caption, "After Every Meal, Brush." I won first place, an ice-cream cone.


In what gallery was your art first exhibited?
          Bingham Gallery, formerly in San Jose, CA. Now in Salt Lake City, Utah.


How did you find the gallery or did the gallery find you?
          I looked them up in the phone book and walked in with an arm full of paintings.


Would you call yourself a "successful" painter today in both the financial and artistic sense?
          I am successful in that I am painting full time and have moved to an area which truly inspires me. I am gaining in recognition and sales every year. Art is a difficult business, especially in these times. Anyone who can weather this economic downturn and still paint full time has to be considered successful.


Has success come easy?
          Heck, No! It's taken a lot of hard work painting and promoting. This is not a career for those who want to sit back and wait for things to happen. It's getting easier as my name is becoming more well known.


How do you feel about galleries that want exclusive representation?
          If they want an exclusive, they had better be prepared to send a check EVERY month.


Do you think it a good idea to sign contracts with galleries or is a verbal agreement sufficient?
          Get as much in writing as possible. It's difficult in a business that operates so much on trust and comradery. But, get it in writing!


What particular clauses in a contract should an artist especially be attentive to?
          When will payment be made to the artist. What percentage. Details on installment payments for paintings. Discounting painting prices for multiple purchases, return customers, etc.


Is there anything to be wary of in such contracts?
          Long term exclusive commitments.


Have you ever had problems of a contractual nature with a gallery?
          Not yet, fortunately.


Since you have experience working with galleries, what advice would you give emerging artists looking for galleries to exhibit their artwork?
          Don't try to get into the biggest gallery on the block. Look for a gallery that carries work you like. Look for a gallery dealer who is interested in YOUR work. Look to establish a long term business relationship. If the dealer doesn't seem interested in your work, but wants to hang a few pieces to see what happens, don't bother. They won't make any effort to sell your stuff if they don't like it.


What other venues do you suggest artists use to promote their name and their artwork?
          Website, outdoor painting events.


What are some of your future goals?
          Continue painting as well as I can and developing as an artist as well as gaining national recognition for my work.


I'd like to conclude this interview on a totally different note than anything we've touched upon in the preceding. A bit earlier you mentioned Lascaux in passing. That is an interesting subject. Personally, when I look at Peleoantological art I am deeply moved to see the product of a fine artist that existed thousands of years ago. It proves to me the deeper, more essential meaning of art for the human race, which leads me to my next question: What do you think is the purpose of art considered from a global perspective encompassing all of humanity?
          One of my favorite pieces of art is a small sculpture made of reindeer horn. It is called "Bison" and is around 15,000 years old. It was discovered in one of the sites in France. In the sculpture, the animal has turned his head backwards along his flank and is licking his side. The shape of the horn suggests this pose. It is a fine piece of art in that the artist saw the shape of the animal in another form and through carving was able to express what he saw. And what was he expressing? A simple observation which is so characteristic of bison like creatures. Countless times while driving past cattle, I see them strike the same pose as in the sculpture. What the artist captured was something true and universal. He showed us a new way of seeing a common thing. 15,000 years later, his creation is still affecting man, or me, anyway. Much of contemporary art deals in big statements or shock value. With each extravagant gesture (urinating on crucifixes, cow dung sculpted to look like a cell phone) the bar for expressing the extreme is set higher. Nothing is shocking, because everything is shocking. Nothing is loud, because everything is loud and nothing can be heard over the din of world weary artists trying to express themselves. This self-expression and intense introspection that seems to be essential to all "important" art is, frankly, dull. I'd like to tell some of these artists, "hey, buddy, get over yourself. You're not that interesting." The artist who sculpted the bison in deerhorn looked beyond his belly button for something greater, whether he realized it or not. Not all art has to carry a BIG MESSAGE.
          Yes, art can be political, but it should be something more as well. If art is created solely to make a statement, then it is redundant. The Op Ed of any major newspaper serves that function quite nicely. The statement of a piece of art can be as simple as the qualities of grass on a warm day after a rainfall-- the shimmer of the grass, the heavy quality to the air as the water evaporates. Finding a new way of seeing common experiences helps us to enjoy existence. People disengage from sensations in the course of daily living. Life goes on whether we partake in it or not. Art reminds us of what we are missing  and strives to satisfy needs more ephemeral than hunger or procreation, but no less important.


Charles, it's been an immense pleasure talking to you. Hopefully I'll see you at one of your shows at the Vault Gallery in downtown, Sonora.
          Thanks James. I've spoken of subjects here that I rarely think about. It's been a positive experience exchanging with you here. See you in Sonora!
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