Painting is immediate, you don’t have to invest the time that literature, dance or music demand. This is the both blessing and curse. Through a singular visual experience one can be moved with gut wrenching intensity. Naturally, this is a plus. The minus part of a visual encounter is that it doesn’t demand much of us; one can easily cast a quick, and dismissive glimpse and move on. Naturally, all artists want to generate that moving experience, but that is not enough. A really good painting, according to me, leaves you slightly altered, with a nagging sense that you haven’t quite gotten all of it yet. This is where the wheat separates from the chaff. It is also responsible for leading one on a life long journey to figure it out; unravel just what it takes to get there.

I cull my compositions from many sources. I am infatuated with the ordinary, the happened upon and the overlooked, so a glimpse of a a corner space can illicit a visual hook. Often it is a dream that choose remembered images I can't shake off. Always threads of art history and geometric relationships factor their way through the work. Regardless of the subject the two defining elements of my work are the color of light and the light in the color.

After so many years of painting, I ask myself why is this so intoxicating? The short answer is that I believe that orchestrating a visual world, recognizable or not, is the shortest route to reach my definition of a good painting. But, more than that, it believe it to be one of the surest avenues to obtain gratitude. By that I mean, the gratitude to experience the experience.