Painting has been in my family for a long time - three generations of men trying to express themselves through art. While I have had hundreds of hours of instruction at the Corcoran School of Art and other institutions, I learned more as a boy assisting my father and grandfather as they labored in cramped quarters, sweating and swearing, watching them as they struggled to rise above their own flaws.

I will never forget how my father would emerge from the basement to show three little children, often his only audience, his latest painting. How he earnestly would ask our opinion. I also will never forget how my grandfather would berate me one moment, goad me the next, and finally, put a paint-spattered hand around my shoulders.

I paint to hear the quiet satisfaction in my father's voice as I tell him of my latest successes - more than twenty exhibits now, the positive reviews, the increasing number of sales, and the opportunities that are arising. I paint largely because others, especially my father and grandfather, showed me how to paint, and more, to see things that others do not see.

I am driven to paint because it is one of the few ties that bind the men in my family -- and one of the few ways left for me to become my own man.

Mother, mixed media
36"x48"

Body, mixed media
28"x24"x8"

I woke up at 3:00 a.m. with that haiku poem in my head. And looking around at all of my work sorrounding me, individuals in isolation, anonymous and floating into the night, the poem made perfect sense.

Red Glass, mixed media 20"x12"

I believe though, that suffering can be a salvation. Art can be redemption. But it is hard, very hard sometimes, to be a whole person when viewing the world through the gaze of the voyeur´s eye. For me, my work is an attempt to share with you what I see, to share a moment together, and to speak to you.