Thanksgiving | 2023
Empire | 2023
Put Me On the Daylight Express | 2021
The Saint Jude | 2021
Ninfa | 2020
Summer Rain | 2018
herry Blossom Ouroboros | 2018
Cueva de la Pileta | 2017
Duende | 2017
Zephyr | 2015
Redon's Butterflies | 2014
The History of Fish | 2015
Singed | 2014
Empire | 2023
Puerto Rico, flash-backs to Spain, and I am presented with a space that encompasses both right and wrong, wholesome and tyrannical. The space that resides between multiculturalism, and colonialism.
Lily Gladstone | 2023
A meathook found on the Bowery November 2015 evoking Thanksgiving, and the subsequent plunder of indigenous populations. A blood soaked shroud bespeckled with officious stamps and a rough seam, revealed in rolling out a length of muslin, finished with a glass bead with carving like basketry hovering over the gaping chasm of a delicately pinned pocket.
Put Me On the Daylight Express | 2021
"Put me on the daylight express," mom said. So alike. So different. We found it difficult to connect. But in a "howling wind," as she would say, they come together.
The Saint Jude | 2021
The Saint Jude was my father's boat, and carries some of my fondest family memories.
The Saint Jude | 2021
The Saint Jude was my father's boat, and carries some of my fondest family memories.
Ninfa | 2020
Some good end-game turns. Discarding an overthought brace for a plain dowel and handmade cord, the narrative relaxed back into its original "spring" underpinnings, and as mum watched her favorite program, a lovely and deeply informed journey through the world's most beautiful and important gardens, I realize—Ninfa. Ninfa, the garden that was a medieval town beset by plague, supplied by river, ruined, grown over, and now painstakingly maintained. One day I will go.
Summer Rain | 2018
Weather befitting circumstance, lush mature greens, fireflies and wheat, moods undulating like the rapid onset of a thunderstorm sky, dark and battering and relieved gently brightening again. Studio Cat has left me. I will go to Paris.
Cherry Blossom Ouroboros | 2018
As simple as noticing the space you occupy in the world, and what that world is doing. Spring came late this year.
Cueva de la Pileta | 2017
In Spain, the oldest art I had ever seen, immediate, layered, ongoing, and fundamentally relevant. Art endures.
Duende | 2017
A nightmare of anger and confusion, player-piano dirges marching on as each segment unfolded… and then we learned, it was dementia. Ringing despair. But she stopped blaming me. Started letting me help. And had one of her grand moments- we would go to Spain, which had been going to be my graduation present before the economy whisked all thought of frivolity away. Spain lived up to every imagining. Such richness there, a soulful place with the grace to accommodate all the contours of living.
Zephyr | 2015
May the winds of fate be gentle (and your friends be there for you when everything goes down the shitter).
Redon's Butterflies | 2014
"[Painting] is a gift of delicious sensuality, which can with a bit of simple liquid matter reconstitute or amplify life, imprint a surface from which will emerge a human presence...." - Odilon Redon
Redon's Butterflies | 2014
"[Painting] is a gift of delicious sensuality, which can with a bit of simple liquid matter reconstitute or amplify life, imprint a surface from which will emerge a human presence...." - Odilon Redon
Quiet | 2015
Something unplanned, well that never happened in a studio....
I have no idea what I'll call it, or what to say about it, but I feel the need to pour an autobiographical red spot at the bottom of this banner, sitting, calmly, as it were, in the nest of painting, waiting, being... in time, in self. Quiet. And there we have the answer too.
I have no idea what I'll call it, or what to say about it, but I feel the need to pour an autobiographical red spot at the bottom of this banner, sitting, calmly, as it were, in the nest of painting, waiting, being... in time, in self. Quiet. And there we have the answer too.
The History of Fish | 2015
Conceived in the concurrent absorption of Neil Degrasse Tyson's Cosmos: A SpaceTime Odyssey in which he relates the tale of Halley and Newton, and John Stuart Mill's 1869 The Subjection of Women, sketched serially in the margins, stollen by a lover, the four realized works in play out the equation Nature + Nurture = Potential in the representation of energy and obstacles.
Singed | 2014
Shroud. Cloister. Boundaries. Church windows overturned. But the light still safe in the center, and free, rising. Taking another view- saggy tits, limp dick and balls? Entrapment? Containment? Repetition, with no progress. It's all a matter of perspective. And I'm glad to be on the side of it that I am, when all is said and done. Better singed than rotting.