The Dreaded Bio

This is where I offer pithy insights about my artistic journey and humble brag my way into your heart. Of all of the uncomfortable things about putting my art into the world, this is the most uncomfortable. So I’m just going to chat with you a little, and know that I am in good hands.

I make things. I always have. We all do in some way, on a spectrum of intention and effort. I’m on the end of that spectrum that bends towards relentless.

Somewhere in my constant stream of crafting and DIY projects, I took up painting. I switched back and forth between oil and acrylic, painting on canvas, cradle board or paper. I learned through observation, with a lot of trial and even more error. I don’t think I was born with what people call talent. What I was blessed with is an ability to tolerate sucking at something for a really long time. It took many years of mud before I started enjoying what was happening at the end of my brush. During those many years of mild torture I was working mainly on representational portraits and landscapes (see the Early Works Collection for a few examples).

In 2023, I hit a wall. My outward circumstances were relatively fortunate, and I am grateful, but my inner landscape was a wasteland. Exhaustion, burnout, and compassion fatigue from putting myself last for decades had left me gasping for air on a daily basis. I felt like I was only a scratch and sniff away from being exposed as the vulnerable and unattractive mess that I truly am. I kept up with obligations, but the itty-bitty-shitty committee inside was going strong. I felt paralyzed artistically, and  yet I continued to take refuge in making marks.

This is when the faces were born. (See "Then Things Got Weird".) Faces that contained the confusion, love, pain, despair, humor and awkwardness that I was feeling. The exquisite ugliness of being human. Each expression that came out on paper was to me a facet of the macabre and whimsical experience it is to be here.

The faces brought me back from a brink, to a new place, more out in the open. They are my inner family of weirdos and misfits, putting the fun in dysfunctional. Most importantly, they each have the ability to smile at and with each other. They save me every day.

Here I am in my happy place. I'm the one on the right and, yes, I AM smiling.