I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.
During the Irish potato famine, five Lynch brothers moved from Slane Parish in Meath County to the United States.
My great great great grandfather James Lynch worked the rail road from Augusta to Marthasville.

The first year that the Lynch brothers lived in Marthasville the town changed its name to Atlanta.
James and John started a general store, Patrick started a rock quarry, and Peter opened a tailor shop.
The fifth brother Michael passed away soon after arriving in Georgia.

There is a stained glass window in Christ the King that commemorates the first Catholic mass being held in the home of Patrick Lynch.
Many of the early building in Atlanta rested on Patrick’s quarried stones.
To this day, the Immaculate Conception Shrine, the oldest church in Atlanta, rests on stones quarried and placed by Patrick.

When Sherman ordered the burning of Atlanta, my family did not leave.
Patrick and Father O’Reilly negotiated the salvation of several churches in Atlanta including the original Cathedral of Saint Philip.
Over the years following the Civil War, the Lynch family fragmented.


Jumping forward to what brings me to you.
On 19 Jun 1977, I was involved in a serious auto accident that left me with the profound memory of being dead.
I have included a printout of my best written recollection of my death experience with this letter.

For 26 years, I was at peace with the memory of that night.
On 16 Sept 2003, I was laying on my floor having a moment.
I lifted my camera, and I asked my son in law to take my picture.
When I lifted the camera the shutter went off and the camera passed through a rope light leaving a blur of color.


On that September night, abstract photography began spilling from my soul.
During the last few months of 2003,
I lay on the floor moving my camera through the rope light and a light bright making over 9,000 abstract photographs
until I broke the lever that lifts the mirror in the camera.
During that time I developed my skills to where I could create an abstract photograph from just about anything.


In March of 2004, I woke from a dream where I saw one of my abstract photographs reflected like a Rorschach ink blot.
Soon after, I began reflecting image after image, and then I began writing my thoughts on the reflections. I called this new form of expression Montaj.
My life was changing so rapidly, I was using the Montaj images to document my life like a digital diary.
I currently have four terabytes of abstract art.


In November of 2004,
the Montaj work took a new direction when I started to try and work out how in my death experience
I could have been in a spirit state observing the physical world.
Over the next couple of years, I refined my thoughts into the equation that is drawn on the back of your print.
I use the energy of Einstein, the force of Newton, and the logic of Socrates to describe a moment of time as Infinite.
Wave energy is on the right, and particle energy is on the left.


On the day that the world laid Pope John Paul Ii to rest, 8 Apr 2005, I stood in the Cathedral of Saint Philip.
With sunlight beaming through the stained glass windows, I held my camera up and said, “Father. Give me a sign the world can see.”
As I clicked a few images, I felt myself moved.
When I looked at the images that I had taken, I nearly dropped my camera. I had tied sunlight into a knot.
Just by chance, Richard Perry had watched me create a few abstracts that day.


David Noel Lynch