the skies may float away but the ground will swell with breath.

Drawing is confounding. It is the basis of art, the fundamental thing, a common language. And it is also the most personal aspect of art, a vehicle for impulses and apprehensions that burst straight from the unconscious, an expression of what is essentially private in an artist's being. It is as if drawing represents eternally rival claims, the claims of the community and the claims of the individual. I think it's this range of powers and possibilities that has given drawing such a talismanic fascination in recent years. Ceratinly, we've been hearing artists and critics and commentaries of all kinds speak about their hopes for the art of drawing. And these have often been contradictory hopes, as if a greater emphasis on drawing could make contemporary art simultaneously more generally comprehensible and more tryly felt, more solidly grounded in tradition and more imaginatively compelling.
-Jed Perl
an article on Henry Fuseli entitled 'Troubled Classicism, The Hyper Personality of Henry Fuseli's Work.

covent garden.

new absrtact series.
latex paint and color pencil and sandpaper manipulation.

the chick and the diving bell. glamour and all that.

tissue paper, oil, felt, thread, paper, pencil on wood.

i paint to paint to paint. my feet walk to walk to walk.

no no.

I see things on my walk. they talk they talk they talk.

'pears'

acrylic and oil on wood.

2008

collector: kristin gratton

the funny thing. I accidentally smashed this skull after it blew those hearts at me!

the magical imp. my muse. her lovely beauty a thing to ponder.
she she she she

lemons.

there is something very feminine about these lemons...hmmm... maybe it's because they look like two breasts? ha.
i have painted twenty different paintings with one plastic lemon. everytime I see something new. how can that be from a silly plastic lemon?

the chicken and the pomegranate are thinking.

this painting started out as a an awful still life of a pomegranate. then I came across a picture I took of my mom's chickens. they met and never insulted me again.

collector: robert fontenot

the season of the pear

a pear from my mother's farm, fresh from a tree.

pear and pumpkin.

self portrait bust with still life

harvest continued

harvest

Avidly walking and lonesomely talking

the falling of the fruits

upon my toes...

Painting the collecting and collecting the harvest

the falling of the fruits

upon my toes...

Le Soire.
The Smile.
Original intaglio print on paper.

what is it about cy twombly? i love this man. i love this art.

On the miles of road covered by my feet, I cannot forget the sky.

the oak tree

the oak tree. She was the guardian of the creek. The magnificience that stood tall throughout my childhood.
As she entered the winter of her life, she fell into the once looked upon creek to become the bridge of its waters.