I’ve been called to create since before I knew what it meant to be an artist, and while I’ve come a long way from eating chalk, I’m always still learning. I take my sense of humor very seriously and I dabble extensively in an exploration of duality. I often create images of amorphous creatures and classical architecture, or other opposing aesthetics that lie somewhere between silly and serious. I’m inspired on one hand by the odd blobs of my imagination, and on the other hand, the sharp angles of reality. I look to depict visually the essence of the times and places in life where light and dark overlap. Maybe it’s in the yard, enjoying a hot popsicle on a cold day. The prison yard, that is. Or maybe it’s that first bite of a cold s’more, on your seventh day of being lost in the desert. It’s not quite day, but it’s not yet night, and like twilight, my art can be associated with the straight up strange. I’m interested in evoking the feeling that occurs when something boring becomes bizarre, when mundane things become magical. It’s something like a Sasquatch sighting on the graveyard shift, or putting lipstick on a sleeping crocodile. The moment of admiration for a day moon, which sits whimsically out of place in the bright blue sky and serves as an adorably ominous reminder that we are just specks in the universe. My works have made viewers ask questions. Sometimes that question is, “what is it?” or “why?”, but I’ve found that being confused is the only thing that makes sense in life, and getting lost is the only way home. While nothing I imagine could ever be stranger than reality, I still try.
“All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.”
- George Orwell, Animal Farm
