My practice has developed out of necessity over the past 2 decades as a result of having no inherent drawing ability, but nevertheless being driven to make objects that will represent my existence to humanity after my physical body has ceased to exist; hopefully, continuing to provoke thought as well as affecting people emotionally.
Coming to picture making relatively late in life, and never having been formally educated in it, but possessing an inner compulsion to make, I have developed a visual language that includes elements of collage, décollage, abstraction, expressionism, surrealism, and assemblage. There are often equal parts humor and despair, and what I have come to realize is that all of my work concerns the alienation that I have felt since I was a young teenager; of never quite belonging anywhere in the world, never fully relating to another human being, never really being quite sure of my identity to the point where the not being sure has become my identity. My entire body of work is a visual depiction of the anxiety produced by the constant feeling that something is just a little bit off, like buttoning up a shirt and being one buttonhole off: the shirt is still functional, and at a glance, no one would probably even notice, but it causes a feeling of unease in the wearer.
Regardless of race, gender identification, religion, or any other human identifier, I believe this is an experience that any thinking person can relate to in one way or another. One of the great ironies of existence is that feelings of alienation are universal.