Painter's Statement

The product of a small town in upstate New York, most of my time was spent posing as a jock and trying to be sophisticated — and being told “you sure can draw.” Imagine my shock, when, upon arriving in the big city to attend art school, I discovered that I had not reached a very high level of sophistication, nor did my ability to draw have much to do with art.

My brief brush with painting carried into the early sixties. Then I stopped. Thirty years later the itch returned and scratching was the only option. Sometimes I think I'm closer to realizing one of those early goals.

At this point the development of a painting is pretty chaotic, coalescing during the action, waiting for this physical activity to become a metaphysical flight. When either that pursuit or I run out of steam, I stop and if I'm lucky, that flight, that space will open up another day.