In the beginning, it was about finding myself. Did I have my own voice? Was there such a thing? Inspired by the painted worlds of authors and visual artists alike, I explored. And with the help of those around me, I created.
As I grew, so did my work. I took in everything. Read people’s faces, read their thoughts and splayed them on paper for all to see. Sketchbooks began to pile up in the corners of every room, filled with the mad experiments of a fulfilling talent. My work became like home.
Then the next chapter, a freeing of expression, the beginning of the unbound. Lines could describe anything in seconds flat, and soon, I would begin to see objects in their abstraction and find them joyful, but most of all, motivating.
Indeed there are moments of strict canvas addiction. Each, coming here or there depending on funds and the fire to play within the grooves of the fabric that – every time – become a part of my workspace (or someone else’s).
And then, of course, Murray arrived and became like my partner in crime. Certainly, he was more than just my go-to guy for the moments when I needed a little “fun” in my life; he transformed into a way for me to toy with sexuality in my work. Again, the fixed became unbound, and with that came the complete eradication of “form.” In every piece I felt devilish, and like I was doing something that was truly ME.
In anticipation of going back to art school – of the still-lives, and the portraits, and all those rudiments that forever need polishing – I moved back into what some might call “usual.” I worked from the faces of those I admired (or wanted to make fun of) and created lively portraits as tribute.
But, as I began exploring the depth of a person’s eyes, or the hidden truths behind their smiles, it came to me that I had the tools to explore a genre of portraits that some might find uncomfortable. This would become known as my Serial Killer Collection. With an intent to solidify the inherent morbidity of these creatures, I set out to normalize their faces. Never could I have expected the outcome, nor the deliberate strength it took to strike lines into their pupils
Of course, in between the spaces I pursue the kind of feeling that comes from finding some strange creature or situation at the tip of my marker. All kinds of things happen there and I’m proud of every one of them.
Then, with another show under my belt at Latitude 53, my confidence rang while my work drew more public attention. For instance, I had the pleasure of being featured by @artmuscle, who promoted the following two works as a part of their curating campaign:
Stare at a blank page long enough and you might find anything a blank page. My talent began to leak out onto almost any surface available, from a pack of “Hello My Name Is:” stickers…
…To the covers of the very book that kept my works together:
That’s it! You’re all caught up to The Present!