biographical sketch
how I came around to painting

At the ripe young age of 14, I landed my first real job, slinging pizzas. I enjoyed pounding the dough with my fist before flipping and spinning it through the air. Building the pie, layering the pepperonis, sliced mushrooms and black olives, before baking. It was fun for me. In fact, I like building anything with my hands and the creative process in general has always motivated me. First, a random thought, then pondered and chiseled into an idea. Finally, the elements are brought together in reality to become something tangible.

I would spend the next 17 years working in some of the best restaurants around, learning to master the craft of cooking. Only in the latter six years did my passion to work with my hands spill over into creating inedible artwork that could be hung on the wall. I just woke up one morning with an irresistible urge to create something in a media foreign to me. I thought of the large cans of house paints in my closet. I thought of the stacks of large, thick paper I had seen down the street at the art supply store. I jumped out of bed with the intention of pulling together those few necessary ingredients to do some painting.

The results were negligible, at first, but the process was soothing. I loved sitting on the floor and pushing the paints around on the paper; not just brushing, but spreading, scraping, dotting, wiping and scratching. I was painting, but not only with a paintbrush. I used my hands, a crumpled up piece of paper, the sponge from my kitchen sink, and the jagged edge of a broken CD laying on the floor next to me. From the beginning of my exploration, my style showed characteristics of Abstract Expressionism, being very spontaneous and full of motion.

Since then, I have become increasingly focused on incorporating bizarre ingredients to develop unusual textures. I am inspired not only by the ancient fossils and dinosaur skin seen at the field museum, but also the exposed gravel innards of a mangled curb or the rough peaks and valleys of an oyster shell. The Roosevelt stop on the red line also has interesting texture development. Its rusty rotted out ceiling has areas that are so well corroded that you can't tell where the concrete ends and the industrial piping begins. Drawing on these environmental inspirations, I set out to Home Depot to scavenge new ingredients to manipulate. After discovering mortar, joint compound, rock salt and a few other miscellaneous building supplies, I found myself using a dowel to slather, smack and throw the mixture of thick-wet-gritty compounds onto the canvas. With these heavy new additions, my paintings had taken on a whole new dimension, the third dimension, and have become part sculpture!

As with most artists, my work seems to be taking on new directions with each passing day, constantly evolving as I discover new ingredients and develop new techniques. I start a painting based on a spontaneous feeling; my approach to painting is much like that of an explorer. There are no rules or regulations--just me and all this other stuff.