My work has always been concerned with the intricacies of observation. The unifying factor of these observations is Chicago's Field Museum of Natural History. As Artist in Residence, my work over the past twenty five years has been drawn from public exhibits, architecture, artifacts and zoological collections.

Featured on the NAP/Blog:
March 18th, 2015

These works represent a looser, more spontaneous approach to my image making. Layered strokes and marks, an accumulation of distorted body parts, building fragments and other abstracted forms coalesce into an anxious mass.

My recent paintings pose 1940s nursery school books and Steife puppets with language from the sex advice columnist Dan Savage. Pairing anthropomorphized animal characters with labels pulled from back-page weekly advertisements and intimate advice, I ask my audience to connect the dots between childhood memories and adult situations. A girl rabbit holding her umbrella is tagged “Golden Shower” and a prim cat in Sunday finery is elegantly labeled “Faggot.”

For me, painting is a slow and durational method of comprehending and interpreting the world. I build images for that narrow delay between sight and perception—between looking and seeing—when color, texture, pattern, and material are in service to gestures that mesh process with content. These works represent the radiance of biological perception and cognition, language, memory, and the presence and absence of the figure and its attendant identities and energies.

Ever since I was little I have been plagued by envy and thoughts of being other than myself. "Please God let me wake up tomorrow and be a genius at playing a musical instrument, even if it means my brother now can't". "Please God let me wake up tomorrow and be a member of the Lady's PGA". "Please God, let me wake up tomorrow and have well developed calf muscles". The perverse combination of being nakedly mortified of myself and wanting attention for great accomplishments has fueled this type of prayer and other related hopes and fears.

My paintings combine architectural remnants of particular cities gathered during brief encounters. Whether utilizing a common roof tile from Rome, South African domestic gates, baseball stadiums, or Philadelphia row houses, the references from these locations become transformed within abstract painting. Reflecting on the socialization process of living in a new city, I consider my work to be analogous to this ever-evolving sociological experience. The initial read of each painting is heightened by the amount of time a viewer pays attention.

I have been drawing the human figure since before I can remember. My earliest attempts, done at age two, possessed an economy, if not accuracy, of form that showed no hint of my adolescent struggles with drawing and painting the nude model in art school.

These paintings combine architectural remnants of Rome, gathered throughout a summer stay in the city. Utilizing the iconic Roman arch found in the terra cotta roof tiles throughout the Mediterranean, this tile is transformed within the confines of abstract painting. Our understanding of a given place is complex and ever-evolving. Reflecting on the socialization process of living in a new city, I consider my paintings to be analogous to this educational experience.

I recently began making pictures of dogs, noses to the ground, relying on their instincts to guide them. They find themselves amid the accoutrements of a materialist elite—tangled pearls and fashion’s latest high heels—and gain a peculiar new cognizance that makes them into a surrogate for humanity. Here, luxury goods and extravagance shine light on the animal essence we so aspire to transcend. I think of our various agencies for survival, security, and the mastery of primary needs.