Objects, made and natural, have always fascinated me. I love being surrounded by things. To me, objects are alive, speaking through pure color, texture, shape. Some have intrinsic meaning or spark memories and connections, like tools, or fossils, or things made by animals like nests, or effigies of any kind made by some person known or unknown for reasons of their own. My favorite way to interact with things has always been to draw them. My hand feels alive, a source of intelligence and agency not unlike the tentacles of an octopus, and what artists call “hand” shows up in what my hand makes, a visible signature. As both an artist and art-historian, it’s not hard for me to see the ineffable resemblance between any particular artist’s works. It’s fun for me to play with compositions that put seemingly unrelated things into relationship in some way that allows them to “sing” together. Most of all, when I’m drawing any thing, the constantly changing light shows me something new about it in every passing moment. I can vividly remember the the first time I became conscious of this and felt suddenly and intimately connected with the constant rotation of Earth around our Sun, and the expansive motion of our Milky Way. Whether as an artist I'm doing something deeply mythic or simply goofy, it's always an expression of my love for everything I see, and I never see anyone or anything as deeply as when I draw or paint or sculpt it.

New in 2025

I have recently returned to my oldest love: still life drawing and these days, mostly in grahpite (I love me a good pencil sharpener and erasers are everybody’s friend). Some of the objects I’ve been drawing are things found in the unique place I live, the Sonoran Desert of southern Arizona (the only place in the US where, for example, Saguaro cactus are native). Others reflect my love for oddity and uniqueness in and of itself.