I write sometimes, but my writings aren’t excellent like my abstract paintings. They truly do speak for themselves if you understand their language. They speak through color, shape, line, form, and texture. Through repetition, variation, value, contrast, scale, and through the relationships of the elements on the canvas to one another, as well as to the whole. Words deflate the intensity, the power of the paint, as a form, and structure. They are me! My inner self brought forth, in it’s ugliness and beauty, raw and as unfiltered as I am able, expressing my frustrations, dreams, and attitudes, with a nearly constant theme of resurrection, or redemption, I intend to evoke hope and strength, tempered with a measure of despair and regret. Always unfinished, never fully satisfied, a reflection of our lives, observed with brutal honesty. Perfect in their imperfection, elegant in their crudeness, approachable by both aficionado and commoner, each arriving at their own exchange, finding grand value and delight.