I am possessed by the spirit of being --
the soul of a long ago abandoned teddybear...
faces staring out at me from forgotten photographs, trapped in a now sepia toned past
the eyes of a stranger on the street.
Sometimes an image — a vision — wakes me from a sound sleep and I am compelled to get up and paint until morning.
When I’m not covered in paint, I’m shooting, filming, writing, acting — creating SOMETHING, somehow, some way. I’m a maker.
I paint for myself, paint for others, paint for no one, paint for lonely telephone poles, paint because I must. Sometimes in the middle of the deepest, darkest nights.