Joseph Palcich

I was born in a small Minnesota farm town called Austin. Where the corn is as high as an elephants eye and briar rabbit is under every porch.

I was taken in by the farm living and have roots in the pallet of colors that only the earth can produce. The smells of spring planting as the mounds of dirt are neatly turned by the massive plows pulled by huge tractors roaring across the landscape, row after row. Dark earthy tones mixed with groves of white birch and water everywhere.

The Land of Garrison Keillor.