I am interested in the metaphorical potential of unorthodox painting materials. The primary material of my current paintings is store-bought paper sewing patterns applied directly to the canvas.

My Painting Drawing Series is based on interior design drawings of art. It explores perceptions of space and painting.

I am the cinder block whisperer. Cement blocks exude strength, character, and personality. Like human beings, every cinder block is unique. Each has subtle imperfections yet each shares traits with others of its kind. Like society, cinder blocks gain in strength and versatility when many are used together to form walls and structures. As a metaphor for the human condition, each painting strives to convey an emotion, a state of mind, or a thought. Each endeavors to elicit a reaction, initiate a conversation, and establish a relationship with the viewer.

My drawings employ rituals, costume, myth, and consumer products as viable readymades to be utilized in the assembly of images. The results play witness to a variety of cultural/historical elements stripped bare of disunion, co-existing in the same picture, with an uncanny sense of harmony. I often work from the subconscious and indulge in sudden urges without the interruption of an intellectual justification.

Over the past ten years I have used research methods and a visual language often used by urban planners, historical preservationists, and architects to explore how people interact with their environment. These methods have helped me interpret and record the many ways people use the world and each other. I some of my past artworks I have explored the interactions of environmental, cultural, and economic systems, using a rigorous study of community maps, historic records, and satellite imagery. Through this process I attempt to picture how an environment relates to its culture.

Everyday enchantments found in vernacular photographs are the axis of my work. The photos I find are accidental art concerned with the mundane, but their representation of common places is far from ordinary. I recover and adopt these lost memories, reproducing them as drawings that look nearly identical to the original. Through the medium of graphite and paint, everything is given a new life and the forgotten is remembered. I am interested in the spiritual and synchronous aspects of life.

We live in an age of diminishing returns. Even if you manage a second coming, beware the form it takes. What you bring back is never what you lost. I’m reminded of a curious story I heard years ago regarding the aftermath of Hiroshima. Only weeks after the explosion leveled the city, residents discovered that the bomb had not only left the underground organs of plants intact; it had stimulated them. Bright blooms pushed through rubble with disturbing disregard, proving once and for all that death, not art, imitates life. A resurrection is like a foreboding, a song that never