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After studio classes at two universities, I chose an independent path of trade occupations and whatever came my way. My expression, neither current-contemporary or genre-related traditional, wasn’t accepted in either arena, and I was left to paint as I wanted. I’ve always thought the burden of visual believability provided the right resistance for creating substantial statements, and I held the expectation that representational painting would eventually reemerge as a viable mode of expression. At some point, my existential choice was to continue as a painter with no recognition, or to find a comfortable creative slot in local industry. I decided to stretch and cover as much canvas as possible while that remained an option. My work is non-narrative, direct observation selectively enhanced for the visual and cognitive mechanisms we all share – it intends to engage, and even attempts to nudge off center, habituated sensibilities. Even though I cover a diverse array of subjects, I’ve noted an uncanny ability of those familiar with my work to recognize my paintings, even in unexpected circumstances. I’m in my studio seven days a week, a habit developed while working for wages. I build my own stretchers and presentation frames, and apply a tradesman’s efficiency to the whole operation. Since everything is done in-house work tends to cycle, but I try to work on two or three canvases at once when I’m painting, often with unrelated subjects. Isolation has its positive aspects. The weight of outside
expectations has been minimal, and undistracted studio time was always
my simple dream while punching timecards. I continued to paint because
I anticipated a fundamental shift in communal sensibility some time
in the future, and as a result of global, national, and local events,
I believe that time has come. In or out of fashion, my work is intended
to be owned and lived with over time, to become one side of a conversation.
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