I love everything to do with art. I read about it everyday either from books in the bathroom or
from art blogs. I read the magazines for free at borders once a week. I travel almost every
month with my wife to different cities to see art shows. After working my full time job I start
work at home on different series that I am kicking around. I have come a little ways - but I
have so much further to go. I love the journey. I can't talk enough about the art world. I have
a sort of naive passion for it all. I give in to the passion even though I don't always know why -
or even if what I am thinking or feeling is right. That's part of the journey too. I buy art when I
can and make statements even when no one cares to listen. I ostracize friends, piss people off
and make rude statements to people when they step on too many of my toes. I don't have a lot of
close friends - but I love my art so much that the close friends I do have know why I come across
so rude sometimes.
This website is my way of trying to live a more artful life, by keeping it at the forefront of my
mind and branching out into new territories if possible. The main thing I hope to gain from this
website is connections in a larger art community. Connections with similar people with a
similar naive passion, where the pure enjoyment takes over, and art becomes life adventures
and challenges, heart ache and pain, smell, sound, and taste.
I can hear a Morris Louis painting melt into the canvas weave, and I watch it happen every
time I see one. I can taste a Robert Ryman like toothpaste between my teeth. Anselm Kiefer
shakes my artistic notions - past, present, and future. I can feel a James Turrell light
electrifying my hands as I try and touch what I can only see. I can feel the meaty flesh from a
Jenny Saville giant touch my skin like a cold flap of steak still bloody. I can taste the candy
coated Elizabeth Peyton's from museum to museum, I can suck them still, I lick them with my
eyes. I can see those lines still, from the Parmiganino show, the Van Go show, the Giacometti
show, and you can't take them away from me. I still have nightmares of Giacometti, looking
over my sixth-grade frame - protecting me from all the live people staring at me like I was a
mad child when I was lost at the National Gallery on a field trip. I oriented myself later by the
bright Vermeer "Girl with a red hat" until I found my class. I remember shaking Richard
Serra's hand looking him right in the eye saying "you've seen Giacometti." He just laughed at
me. But I was there.
This is really how I am everyday. This is how I always think. My mind races all day with
visual information and new ideas. I truly love this thing called art. I want other people to see
what I see, feel what I feel, and learn what I learned - because it is all to amazing for one person
to shoulder. And I don't want to stop learning or stop enjoying the journey. This is me
everyday, this is who I am.
Iridescent Art News
Paintings and Artwork quick links.
