Art is not my day job. Somewhere in the whirlwind of growing from a child into an adult the practicalities of life, food, shelter, clothing, demanded attention that my abilities in the creative world, still mostly a hobby, could not meet.
       But though it never supported my life, art never left it. What was a hobby became a means of expression as I dealt with the doubts and stresses of growing up. As I grew older, what was a means of letting out what was inside of me also became a means to take in what was outside. It became an important way to see the world.
        How I began to see the environments around me also began to be influenced by those whose work I admired. I saw the movement in tall grasses on breezy days thanks to Van Gogh. I felt the forlorn solitude of landscapes and cityscapes when the sun is low, as in early morning or late evening, thanks to Edward Hopper. I’ve been mesmerized by half-seen landscapes on the back panels of semi trucks pointillistcally pitted with rust or spattered with dirt, thanks to Georges Seurat.
     My artwork is now the result of a process. This process takes an inspiration,  such as a scene or a random grouping of colors and textures or something from my imagination, and filters it through my experiences and memories, preferences and prejudices, conscious and subconscious thoughts. This produces an interpretation that combines the inspiration with my imprint. The process, manipulated by ink or paint, is expanded and enhanced in the transferral of the interpretation from my mind to paper or canvas. I employ mainly a pointillist technique or some variation of it.  The slow and gradual nature of this technique provides time for me to grow into the piece as I see (or feel) fit.