My artistic journey dates back to 1976 when, as a new student in a new high school I chose as dual majors Art and Visual Communications (a makeshift tv production course)--disparate but related disciplines both taught by the same artist/teacher who's daily presence in my high school life from start to finish is why I'm an artist today. On the Art side, exploring a variety of disciplines--drawing, painting, ceramics, sculpture, pottery, silkscreen and printmaking--was the curriculum. Mr. Gischer's art room was a haven, but graduation brought other choices and interests; while satisfying, art wasn't considered as a viable pursuit and I went on to other things, some of which had opportunities for creativity but not in the making of art, per se.
Over the last 10 years or so, the draw (no pun intended) to create has been quietly growing. For a while I spent considerable time in the studio of a pair of artist friends, assisting in various ways and absorbing the aura of their artists' life; it unearthed the urge but not the courage or motivation or sense of what to create. Years later, when the COVID-19 pandemic brought most of the world and our lives to a standstill, it seemed the time had come to revisit what, through osmosis born from my time at that studio and so many visits to museums and exhibits, had become an inevitable conclusion: that one day I would paint and create again. At last, I did just that, bringing artistic creation into my life to a degree at which it had never existed before. The results--not the work itself, but working at creating--has been a game-changer in my life. It's led me to the fervent belief that there is never any downside to exploring one's creativity, whatever form that may take and regardless how good the work is. Creating is life; a life with art is so very good.
Placing daily life on pause for the moment and connecting to all that preceded and informed our modern existence. There is nothing I find so moving, so tremendous as the implausible majesty of the natural world—skies, seas, plains, plants, mountains, forests, flora. A stand of birch, hundreds at a time, all practically identical. The veins and gradations in a hunk of stone that is itself a mountain buried in the earth. A series of sunsets, day after day, none quite the same as the last or the next…the patterns found in all things growing in and around the earth are endlessly intriguing. Expressions of these find their way into my work through varying layers of texture, color and motion through a process of deconstruction—applying and manually eroding layers or portions of colors, patterns and figures—paying homage to the patina acquired by aging, beautiful things.