Since my early days in College in the 70’s, I’ve always held an affinity for thickness and texture.  There was something very organic about my work, a sense of having been created by some natural process rather than by an act of will on the part of the artist.  These are some of the things I’m working with.  But no position, no school, no formula … there are no rules of how it should be.

I’m always surprised by the unexpected, but does one actually know what one’s doing?  In my case, when I’m finished with a painting, often I don’t know why it’s finished.  I know that it affects and moves me, that it has a life of its own; that it exists.  However, I’m not at all sure, I know what  it is.  And so much the better if it has all kinds of possibilities others can see. 

The essential part of being an artist comes through when one doesn’t become too protective of what he thinks is his way of working.  What you think you can’t do is exactly what you already should be doing, rather than just putting it off, simply because you’re afraid to lose yourself.  But when you lose yourself that’s when the Art happens.