My relationship with canvas has been a tumultuous one. My rural school district couldn’t afford proper oil painting supplies for us to use year-round, even in the “Advanced Studio Art” club I tested into every year.

By the time graduation came around I had no intentions of going to art school, hell, I didn’t want to go to school at all. I wanted to convince my band mates to move to Los Angeles. My parents, the first generation in both of their families to attend college, had other ideas. Although I had good enough grades to shoot for something else, and inklings of creative talent (mom wanted me to apply to Berkly School of Music) in the pre-internet days I really didn’t have anywhere to turn. I assumed I’d quickly flunk out of Berklee and didn’t even bother to apply, taking the easy route instead and applying to the nearest state school.

I tried and failed to get into the product design program for three years, eventually listening to my art profs and applying to the college of art to pursue a BFA. I then discovered the disadvantage of a state school art program. The Ohio State college of fine art was obsessed in the early aughts with encouraging the next Roy Lichtenstein (an OSU MFA graduate) to flower, not the next George Bellows (attended OSU but did not graduate). Thus, I received lots of helpful information on how to stage an interesting and provocative gallery show or try new daring ideas in multimedia, but very little instruction in the way of actual craft and skill of painting. Medium, mixing, glazing, varnishing, scumbling, and the like were all things I’d have to learn later from youtube videos.

I did not feel confident to show (or even continue to make) my art anymore. I moved to Los Angeles not long after graduating with the hopes of rekindling my earlier passion for music and deliberately forgot about (making) fine art for the next five years.

After years of bands starting and dissolving before anything substantial happened, I began pursuing an MBA. Ironically it was in business school that I met my muse. Propelled both by her encouragement to begin making art again (for she was a trained and working fashion designer) and by the availability of such a good model, I began to paint again.

The work wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t absolutely terrible anymore, either. I dove back in and within a year began to show my work at the Hive Gallery in downtown Los Angeles. However, the Hive Gallery soon joined the art trend of themed group shows (halloween, insects, John Hughes movies, etc. whatever the gallery thinks will interest the public) every month.

The pressure to concept, create, and deliver work on a monthly basis while working full time and attempting to complete an MBA became incredibly stressful. I stopped participating in the shows about a year after I began.

As time wore on I stopped picking up the brushes, the deadlines gone. Eventually, I stopped picking up the pencils too.

Until 2018, when I cracked open an old moleskine and realized I can do better. Stay tuned.

Almost all of the pieces below are still available, please inquire if interested.

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