I've always liked to keep images of angels near me. Over the years, I've acquired a variety of carved and painted angels purchased in Italy where I frequently travel. In Italian Medieval and Renaissance art, angels are ubiquitous. Whenever I go to Italy, I see angels all around. The ones created centuries ago look out from bas-reliefs and carvings in ancient architecture, and from paintings in churches and museums. Nineteenth-century angels keep a compassionate watch at graveyards. Newer angels, created by modern-day artists who are keeping alive an old tradition, gaze at passersby from shop windows.

I've also taken many photographs in Italy-of art, architecture, landscapes- whatever beautiful and inspiring scenes have attracted my eye. Recently, I've been photographing Renaissance art and architecture for a book, and of course angels are included.

Going through my slides, picking which photos to use, I started noticing images of angels that seemed to be calling out to be printed. During the time that I was printing and matting the angels, and afterwards, when I had placed them together in their own box, I found myself dwelling on their images in my imagination. Now whenever I felt fearful, my mind would immediately go to my portfolio of angels.

The act of photographing and printing the angels has made them alive for me in a way in which they hadn't been before. Not only that, but I've also started feeling connected to the people who made the angels in the first place.

The spirit of the angels had to pass from a mysterious and invisible dimension into the hearts and minds of the artists who carved and painted them over the centuries. So I'm partaking both of that invisible realm from which angels come, as well as of the spirit of the people who made them.

As I contemplate the images of the angels, I notice myself softening, feeling more compassion for others as well as for myself. At the same time, the people in my life seem to be acquiring the helpful qualities of angels. But when people don't behave as I wish they would, or I do something for which I find it hard to forgive myself, or things turn out differently than I might have wished, I turn my attention back to the angels.

During the Renaissance, Italian philosopher Pico della Mirandola said, "It's not freedom from the body, but spiritual intelligence which makes the angel." It seems that keeping angels in mind is helping me to lift myself up and to live in a better way.