Sadly, almost incomprehensibly, my dad passed away on March 30, 2002, after a very long and painful bout with several forms of cancer. Never have I encountered a soul that has so bravely fought the miseries of disease, or one that has faced each new setback with as profound a grace and humor. Despite his enormous physical difficulties, my dad never strayed too far from his beloved studio, even as the already brief stretches of time his poor withered legs were able to support him kept right on diminishing. My dad's two constants in life throughout both good times and sad, were his "Svetoi Barashek" (Russian transliteration for "Sacred Lamb") - which was his favorite last pet name for my mom - and his charcoal sketchpad. Everyone who has known this brilliant and humble man knows that they are forever blessed with the memory of a soul who, via his art, brought all of us a step closer to God. His eye for beauty, his deep resonance with nature's sacred patterns, and his gentle humility will be missed more than words alone can possibly convey. Many artists have come and gone, of course, and many creative people remain in our midst, but never again will the world's beauty be quite so radiant, and the portal to the spiritual realm quite so wide and inviting, as when the quiet, visionary genius I called Dad was hard at play (never work!) in his studio. I will always cherish my time on this Earth with him, and all that he continues to teach me.