I always knew I enjoyed making things and liked texture. As a child, I set off alarms touching paintings in museums. Eventually, that translated into being an artist by practice.

Oh Jesus, that’s quite an open-ended question, probably better for a therapist. I’m just someone who likes translating ideas and experiences into visual environments.

That color palette is a reference to the sky and sea, to storms and the night, something appealing and disturbing at the same time.

I recently travelled on the maiden voyage of the Ultra Letizia shipping vessel across the Pacific with the desire to experience the macro environment of the Pacific and the confined environment of the ship, and to find how that would affect my practice. On the journey, I painted large-scale works referencing the horizon and the dichotomy of the two environments. Each work was exposed to the elements, leaving them on the deck in storms and wind, dragging them alongside the ship and crumpling them back into my cramped interior studio. I also shot volumes of film and photographic footage. A documentary about the journey is forthcoming. The days were always filled with new discoveries about the environment, the artwork, my fellow seafarers and myself. Significant moments were rampant and widespread, but the most enduring was seeing how the movement of water affected the paintings. It was the experience of a lifetime for me.

Humankind has lost touch with itself and its role on the earth. We neglect each other and our planet. There is not much more to say about that.

Conceptually, this addresses the misinformation and content overload in our current times. It also speaks to the power of words to guide people in the wrong direction.

Most frequently I paint. The physicality and vibrancy of the medium still always seems to bring me back to it. However, becoming comfortable with anything is worrisome. I hope to keep evolving in format; thus I try to never get too comfortable. 

The ocean is the truth.

Well, it is impossibly difficult to not be continually influenced visually. The environment, television, driving around aimlessly, internet chaos, art history, the flashing of lights, the darkness of the sea, and on and on are all influencers for me. It is editing down the influences that is the real challenge.

Seeing this effort come to fruition is exciting for me. Nearly two years ago, I riffled through the large historical inventory of Woven Accents in Los Angeles to find these ten antique rugs. My goal was to address their craft nature, their journeyman-esque existences and their new home in Los Angeles, while also giving new life to them. Each work was painted delicately, leaving much of the original design exposed and then left to the elements of Los Angeles to further develop. For instance, they were left in the ocean, in the bottom of a Hollywood Hills pool, on Sunset Blvd. and on a strip club runway, to name a few. I also wrote a poem about each. It is nice to see the reaction to this body of work as the project and accompanying monograph are released.

I think we all have a desire to be nomadic on some level. Life and society force us away from it and towards a consumerist prison. They say an antique Persian rug that is over a hundred years of age has travelled the world seven times. That dream appeals to me.

I’m currently watching the hours upon hours of footage from my sea journey, trying to relive moments with my feet back on land. I’m also in the research stage of moments from the 1970s both in preparation for things to come.

I’ve managed to avoid contact with snakes. It’s an ongoing dream come true.

I prefer the camp of Joseph Beuys where everything is art; so the ultimate purpose of art is everything.