Miho was born on the Dalmatian coast, in a town where the mountains come down to meet the sea and spent his earliest years there through the Second World War. He found watercolor among those islands. It stayed his medium for the rest of his life, a demanding one, unforgiving of hesitation, where every shade has to be decided before the brush touches the paper.

He immigrated with his mother, Milka, and supported them
both as a commercial sign stenciler, lettering storefronts and cutting
schematic stencils for Hewlett-Packard on Sand Hill Road, amongst other
companies. He was painting the whole time. The Bay Area he found was not the
one people picture now: gold hills without houses on them, orchards where the
office parks are, an open coastline. He painted a valley that no longer exists,
yet people fondly remember.

They married and had a son, Michael. For the next two
decades the two of them travelled to paint: the Croatian islands, Carmel,
Hawaii, Lake Tahoe, the streets of San Francisco, and many other locations
around the world. They worked en plein air: outdoors, on site, finishing
a painting in the same light that started it. It's why the work is full of
specific weather and specific hours rather than scenery.

He owned galleries and framing shops in Palo Alto, Carmel,
and Los Gatos, framing other people's work alongside his own and getting to
know the towns he painted.