Born in the dusty panhandle of Texas, many of my childhood memories are steeped in soil stained sunsets and starlit skies. It is my place of birth, and where my story-line begins… over and over again.

The seeds from which my family rooted were somehow sewn and tangled within the margins of Life, suspended in thin air, neither here nor there. We were a household of dreamers that oftentimes seemed like one body with a multi-foliate soul. We didn’t have much, aside from familial bonds. Yet, through that alliance, we were imbued with a sense of possibility, that nothing was beyond our reach, and somehow managed to elude the stranglehold of poverty’s unforgiving grip. We never suffered from lack. But, we also never believed that it was our lot to suffer.

I won’t inflate the truth by saying that art was always a passion. We hardly know what that means when we’re young. So instead, my creative curiosity was simply a component of my personality, one that was nurtured by those who mattered most, and it was never instilled in me to think of my artistic inclination as anything less than what it really was, but a distinct characteristic. And so… my predilection flourished.

At an early age, I was hardly different from other kids. Drawing was as much a distraction from tedium as it was a way for me to bring to life the things I liked. But it was also a release at times, having grown up in a house among fields instead of neighbors. I sometimes just needed an escape.

But even then, I was already aware of something more profound than what the eyes could perceive and was overwhelmed with a desire to depict that underlying essence of things. I tried to assign shapes and form to internal responses, internal dialogue. But those impressions could not be defined through any voice of reason. So I adopted a more Stream of Consciousness approach to my art, attacking each piece without preconceived ideas or misguided notions of comprehension that did not exist in me at the time, a comprehension that is perhaps only attainable in hindsight, when the storm of an experience subsides (sometimes lingering for many years).

I took this yearning with me to school, hoping to find answers to questions I didn’t know how to ask. But, to no avail.

Then, in 1992, when I finally received a scholarship to Texas Tech University, I chose instead to embark upon my path without a compass. I wanted to perfect my own voice without outside influence or conditioning, to liberate my purest intrinsic attribute from obligation and expectation. And, although the road has not always been easy, I am fortunate to have always found friends who shared my lust for Life and who fostered a then maturing passion, channeling that lust into art. My work remains my own, a deliberate and personal encounter with my state of being, unfolding before you like an excerpt from my timeline. And at my very best, each piece is always but a Prelude… to something more.

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