Thomas Kinkade died on April 7th, and while I certainly hadn’t thought about him in quite sometime, I immediately became transported to a bower of flowers, gently puffing chimneys and picket fences, and more pastel flowers. Vivid reds would be too jarring. Henri Matisse observed that “There is an inherent truth, which must be disengaged from the outward appearance of the object to be represented. This is the only truth that matters … exactitude is not truth.”