I am attracted to provocative artwork.  My mind gleefully shifts into overdrive whenever I come across a painting that incites a riot in my imagination: a screaming figure on a pier, a melting pocket watch in a barren landscape, two identical silkscreen portraits of Elvis with pistols drawn.  Let's face it, being raised on television and mass media - not to mention six years of art history - has saturated me with one hell of an overloaded sub-conscience.

I now hunger for those images that profoundly nourish my psyche, so I create something similar in my own paintings.   I care little of how I come up with ideas; rather, they tend to surface and evolve on their own while I work on a particular piece.   In some instances, it is similar to automatic writing, in where a painting helps to complete itself.   Other times, it is like a game of free association that I instigate during the wee late hours.  By whatever means - whether intuitive or planned - it usually boils down to sifting through ideas, fleshing them out on canvas, and finally, arriving at a composition that I am not too embarrassed to call mine.

Painting is more than a forum to exercise my imagination.  It also provides therapy.  It documents parts of my life, which helps me to better understand where my focus has been and why.  That plays an integral part in terms of artistic and personal growth.  It is hard to say what direction I am heading in; but, I've always been one who enjoys a good ride, regardless of the destination.