biography

As a kid, I was inclined to inspect things increasingly more closely and often indulged a knack for making and building, all while indulging in a guilty itch to open things up and take them apart without much consideration for their repair. Just wishing to make beautiful and desired things, indulging in hands-on investigation of interesting materials, making an occassional social commentary, documenting obscure observations, probing my subconscious: each have all at one time or another stood in for a motivating creative catalyst. 

Frankly, looking back, most of my perceived creative inspiration and rationale now seem far too manufactured, especially in light of my 2 decades instructing and learning from thousands of elder artists within the Art With Elders program.

These elder artist friends in their wisdom repeatedly demonstrate that there's no good practical reason to make art. Aesthetic objects serve no rational purpose. Anyone making art with any regularity is compelled intuitively and senselessly. The drive to make art is a priori, purpose is then glazed over that initial instinct.

With that in mind, reasons can be teased out or worse wholly synthesized but at the very least I suppose I continue to hope my creations may have certain desirable effects on others. The hope persists despite any solid evidence of its likelihood. Actually I avoid imbuing much of any thematic intentions knowing full well the rough odds for personal fulfillment from a satisfactorily communicated effect. 

I can say, I make art for the same reasons I medidtate. Both activities I engage in almost equal measure and result in more or less the same feelings just before, during and after. My rewards are spasms of connectedness, awe, flow, curiosity and awareness. While these sensations are by no means garunteed during these disciplines, both meditation and creativity increase the likelihood of their occurrence, intensity and regularity. Just like with any pleasurable experience, it is also bolstered by degrees through refinement, routine and sacrifice in its name. It seems likely that if my works are crafted under these circumstance, their chances of positively affecting viewers increases. 

To me our world seems a little more broken today than at other times in my limited memory. Meaning and truth appear to often surprisingly fall victim to uncompromising faith. Reliable nurturing sources of spirituality are harder to find. Too much of humanity reflexively moves away from, or even remains in a state of open hostility toward our natural environment. All the while, far too many of us take for granted just how reliant we are on nature and how tenuous is our grip on existence. 

We are by our very nature...Nature...

I have always craved access to nature, or at least to facsimilies of it, when direct interaction is unavailable. It feels good to me to be physically, spiritually or cognitively close to natural elements like sun, water, metal, and stone. As a young kid, most of my day was spent immersed in the outside; building forts, surfing, meandering or biking through woods or swimming. Now, I may go most of my day awkwardly separated from it, wholly immersed within and among man-made materials and phenomena. 

Although this feels like an ill-fated trend inclined to eventually self-correct, I can imagine that others, like myself, seek out and wish to surround ourselves with objects and aesthetic phenomena that reconnect us to nature within our ever more man-made reality. I imagine there is a strong possibility that we might continue to move away from our natural origins to our great peril. In that case, is it not then possible such nature -memorializing art objects may one day be recognized or even revered as icons with uncommon psychological and spiritual power?