"The fun is in locking horns with impossibilities."

- Claus Oldenburg

People & Stories     Self-Portraits     Crisis     Holocaust

Sketchbook images are fully completed mixed media drawings

     We are constantly witnessing our histories (history being: places, experiences, events...) being lost in time.  Landmarks fall apart, go un-recognized in importance, get torn down, go out of business.  People interact, rise to the occasion, falter, show courage, and ignorance, and effect each other in ways we may not even realize.  Lost to anyone except those that have the experience in their memories.  Those memories (or moments) make a life, and present a culture in its purest form- without the glossy rose-colored glasses.  Sometimes happy, sometimes sad, sometimes dumb, sometimes miniscule, and sometimes a full-on explosion. 

     When I hear the question "Why is art important?", this is my answer.  It records us, humanity- as an event in time.  What I am trying to do in my sketchbook drawings is document the time I exist within.  I use it as a journal to document what is being lost. 

     I also ask many artists and students alike why they make certain choices...I ask myself the same question.  Why do I keep coming back to the subjects I choose?  Beyond the answer above, I have to be vague and say that I am seeking justice.  Like many other people in the world, I have periods of frustration and delight with society.  When I am frustrated with events that occur (or delighted with events), I want to do something...anything.  When I can, I do something, and when I can't-  my artwork gives me the chance in my soul, to represent the good; or to right a wrong. When I am at a loss for words, my drawings can speak for me.

     Everyone wants to classify what they are confronted with, it makes life easier.  I don't like to be classified, but I understand that it is a necessity for understanding.  This is a simplified concept so the generalizations and specifics don't drone on and on. 

     Art has a large spectrum of classifications.  In this particular area I focus on just Fine Art, and Illustration.  At one end is Fine Art, largely independent in ideas without outside influences on how and what to paint.  At the other end is Illustration, largely considered commercial, and generally the concepts and how-to is dictated by someone other than the artist.  I fall between the two, and it has always been a fight.  I am a narrative artist, if it were music, I would be a folk singer (only not so hippy-esque).  I almost always follow a narrative in one shot imagery.  The narrative is usually my own, but on occasion it has outside influences of culture. 

     I have two main areas of work: One is painting, and the other is what I call "sketchbook".  This is not necessarily the traditional idea of a sketchbook.  Each drawing is fully finished, usually with mixed media.  As it is stated above, my sketchbook drawings are mostly reactionary to events that get my attention and interest.

  A brief explanation of what is behind the artwork

     For nearly 9 years I worked every day with emotionally and socially disturbed children (and I currently work with the Developmentally Disabled adult population).  They go by many names: at-risk , disabled, abused, special education, special needs, devils, impoverished, high-risk, daughters, trouble-makers, sons, brothers, sisters, grandkids, and "its".   People say I must have had patience, or they ask why I did it.  To me it's simple: As an art student, I thought I might change the world with my art. Make people think. Yes it was, and continues to be delusional- but a little bit of hope never hurt anyone.  In art school I found myself surrounded by very politically and socially charged students and faculty. They were not always accurate, or even aware of the real world- but their determination for change was like a drug.  This had a profound effect on what I wanted to do with my life.  After graduating, I discovered that I wasn't going to change the world with my art, and I wasn't sure what else I could do.  I could stand around like all the rest and complain about the ills of society, or I could get involved.  I did know what I did not want.  I did not  want to be one of those people who talks, and never acts.  Some might label that person as a politician.  Not just the government type, but the kind we find all over, in every workplace.  Martin Luther King once phrased it as the "paralysis of analysis".  I instead decided to jump into a job that would make a difference every single day.  My days, my actions, and my presence mattered to these kids, and I have never regretted the choice.  After nearly 9 years, I felt that I could never go back to working with regular children.  There was too much need, and too much personality.  These images document the lost, the neglected, the abused, and the future in our good society.  The images in the "kids in crisis" section may disturb some, and they may appear desolate, but there is hope.  I state it many times, but I'll repeat myself here...there is hope, through individual effort change is possible   The artwork is journalistic in creation and concept.  A majority of what I refer to as the sketchbook work is spontaneous, on-the-spot-style.

Sketchbook History

   The term "sketchbook" is used in reference to my drawings.  I keep a portable book, which I use to create full color (mostly) fully rendered imagery.  I often refer to this work as "journalistic".

     In the fall of 1995 I took a trip out westward.  No destination in mind- just west.  This was a trip to find out who I am, and who I wanted to be, free of any friends or plans.  In the course of  3 months I traveled 12,000 miles through 23 States, and I ate in a lot of bad diners.  The term wandering aimlessly would fit the bill.  Highlights included seeing the Andrew Wyeth exhibition at the Nelson-Atkins Museum in KC, watching as an American tourist was scolded for trying to swipe a bedspread from a hotel in Sarnia Canada, Salem Sue the 25 foot cow in North Dakota, taking a boat tour of the Puget Sound in Seattle, watching Cal Ripken jr. break the consecutive games played record on some fuzzy motel t.v. in Idaho, visiting Mt. Rushmore when the government had to close national landmarks due to not having a budget, Taoist philosophy books, being caught in a blizzard in Vail, being besieged by a squadron of mosquitoes in Teddy Roosevelt National park, and the retirees that gave me a slice of pizza while camping in a torrential downpour at Taquamenon park in Michigan.

     On this trip I brought a couple of Canson paper books to keep some sort of journal, sketches, diary ...whatever. It started as a diary, but became much more than a travel journal.  When I returned from this trip, I had become accustomed to daily doses of drawing.  These drawings all challenged who I was, or was going to be. These drawings were handled sometimes from life, or photographs, and sometimes from my gut/head/emotions.  As I began to work with Socially and Emotionally Disturbed at-risk children (Crestwood Children's Center 1996- 2004, Rochester, New York) I found That I really enjoyed the freedom of drawing in these books.  No subjects or images were out of bounds...the work was quick, and fresh. I felt a resurgence of the reason that I became an artist in the first place.  The sheer joy of drawing this way is like singing in the shower when no one's home.  That lack of fear, or the conquering of the fear of HAVING to present a finished image (or a slick image)- allowed me to be creative.  To stretch my limits, and forget about the stage that I had become disenchanted with in illustration.  That stage of always bending to someone else's vision.

      I became addicted to this form, and in the Spring of 2000 I began teaching a new course at R.I.T. (Rochester Institute of Technology-where I  taught from 1993 through 2004) focusing solely on Sketchbooks.  I also displayed the work here in Rochester at the Mercer Gallery (Monroe Community College) in a solo exhibition.  This was not something that was planned, I was working because I loved the work, and without intention of showing at a gallery.  The Mercer Gallery has previously exhibited such notable Illustrators as: Alan E. Cober, Philip Burke, and David Cowles, to me this was a great honor.  All in all I exhibited 141 works- 126 sketchbook drawings.  The show was entitled "slipping downstairs".

      I cannot pretend for my artwork to be more than it is.  Sometimes fun, sometimes excellent, sometimes not, and sometimes disturbing.  I draw and paint what I see.  I am the opposite from what many people call an "arteest" (which by the way if you use it-  all artists hate  that term).  That term is a stereotype that represents what I loath about the artworld.  That term implies self-righteousness and idiocy at the same time.  I do not strive to push away society, I strive to show it.  I intend to display the best of the arts-  the "higher-calling".  I am not leading the pack (by any means), I am just on a soapbox trying to get a viewers attention. 

     I am not part of the bloated artist ego, but I do take what I do very seriously.  My work represents my life.  The work is from the gut, and grounded in the craftsmanship often associated with Illustration.  However, it is not simply "illustration", nor is it "fine arts".  It is somewhere in-between the two.  The artwork is both representational and abstract,  narrative and personal.  For me, it is the best of both worlds.  I like that there is nothing in art that is out-of-bounds.  Artists have explored ideas that make people happy, relaxed, angry, sad...and ideas that make a viewer want to act.  Sometimes the ideas are good, and sometimes they are not.  But not acting at all is never good.