About

​For a long time, I have been in quiet communion with art.  As a teenager pouring through books in the school library, I would linger in the careful balance of Mondrian or the playful language of Miró, letting their rhythms settle somewhere unseen.  I was drawn to the things that didn’t offer up their secrets all at once, to that which resists easy explanation.  These inclinations slip naturally into my work, as they do into my way of seeing the world.  Art history, mythology, fantasy, and reverence for God: these were not separate interests but overlapping currents, feeding a private inner landscape. 

 

The course of my life, however, has not followed a single, steady line.  In grade school my desire to create art was clear, and for a time I imagined a future in graphic design.  Yet life, with its gentle insistence, carried me elsewhere.  The world intervened with its own set of requirements and my early aptitude for art was pushed aside for the practicalities of a paycheck, as often happens.  I moved through a series of "other" lives: as a travel agent in southern California, as an administrative assistant at an aerospace firm, and again at an insurance company back in my home state of Connecticut.  Eventually, I transitioned into a role that encompassed purchasing, design, and project management.

 

Wanting to move forward, I enrolled in design courses, and through them found myself circling back, inevitably, to art itself.  I began to draw and paint once more, after years of neglect, and the old obsession returned. There was great joy in discovering that I could still render the world with accuracy, that realism came readily to my hand, and for some time I devoted myself wholly to it. Yet as the years passed, I felt a restlessness, a desire to loosen the grip of precision and move toward something more expressive, more attuned to feeling than to fact.

 

And so I arrived to where I am now: working with greater freedom, allowing intuition its voice, embracing expression over certainty.  I have returned to a self long present, quietly waiting to be acknowledged.