My art is created through my life's experience in combination with the feelings and emotions I experience at the time. Throughout my life, imagery and words have sustained my soul and I often wonder how people who do not have this outlet survive. I often think a true artist is created through those vast extremes in life. Perhaps an artist is nothing more than an emotional mess looking for an outlet.

I can't remember a time when creativity, in some form, wasn't a part of my life. If the paintbrush was absent from my hand, a pen or typewriter would take its place. I did graduate from a university with minors in Fine Arts and English Literature. I often think, when I paint, I unconsciously throw off everything I learned. I only want to paint as me, as it should be. I think the truly great artists expressed their souls in their paintings, expressed them clearly and with expert detail. Technique and becoming an expert only come with time, the rest is already there in an artist. I keep producing and criticizing each piece, striving to attain the clarity of imagination upon the blank page.

I live out in the middle of the desert in a small community near Reno, Nevada. I've lived in this area most my life and can't imagine living anywhere else where my sleep isn't greeted by the howling of coyotes in the distance, or the smell of sagebrush doesn't permeate the air. I love where I live and have never really contemplated living anywhere else (well, a summer home in Italy might be nice).