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It was very crowded when we arrived. Hot. Stuffy. Felt like a cramped rag
stuffed in a sweltering mouth. The pews were all taken, filled with crying
babies, shushing mothers, restless children, don't-you-think-about-it-eyeing
fathers, and elderly people, eyes closed and rocking to a hum that only they
could hear. I would have been one of those restless children sitting in the
pews--but I wasn't.
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"The visionary, transpersonal art of John Vega provides a powerful, illuminating expression both in oil on canvas and pixels in the digital realm. That he can crossover from one medium to the other with such masterly dexterity, and unique vision, is a tribute to his creative expansiveness, as well as being a pleasure to all those who enjoy his art. "
-- Robert Venosa
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This clean and tidy home is furnished with simple useful things, tired and
worn from use, old enough to have stories. It is filled with sunlight and
the smell of baking, as a tiny God-fearing woman moves through her daily
rituals, preparing for another family gathering.
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