And so it goes…The story of a dreamer in focus, the "little man" larger than life, a metamorphosis of sorts, the juxtaposition of color that lives in the fiesta, echoes of music ranging from a bordello virus spilling into the backstreets of our minds, an ethereal world groove laced with American roots and the raw tap-tap of the dancer…and the word. Before I touch upon the word it is necessary to address my subconscious instinct and the evolution of being a self-taught painter. Jean Dubuffet might refer to it as art brut, others would say outsider art, to me it is this…. A word spawns an image, the image dances across the canvas to the beat of it's own drummer and colors lead the way to new discovery. My journey of discovery began some years ago within the confines of a chaotic environment.
I was born in New York, the fifth child in a family of what came to be nine children. To some, being one in a large family might be overwhelming. For me, it was truly an amazing experience and to this day, I feel blessed to be so fortunate. When I was a teenager, my family uplifted to a small town in New Mexico. The move was quite an adjustment, and at first, New Mexico didn't agree with me. I...
