Photography Show!

You are cordially invited!! There will be two distinct bodies of work being exhibited, "Light" and "Shadows."

Artist's Statement for "Light"

My photographic art allows me to indulge my love of bold color while pushing the envelope of realism. I am motivated to repaint my world in new shades through the interplay of natural subjects clothed in unnatural hues. In this series, the colors of my digital photographs are enriched to produce images which reveal the dynamic of nature’s intensity, otherwise lost to the casual observer. In creating art that requires the viewer to interact with the work, I force the eye to search for value and definition thereby discovering my subject’s secret life as art.

Artist's Statement for "Shadows"

Think of all the descriptive labels you may have ever used to identify a teenager, perhaps someone you knew or simply saw hanging out downtown: punk, freak, slacker, druggie, jock, goth, slut, bitch, flake, etc., labels you‘ve used in thinking and speaking of them; labels that may have served as barriers to keep you safe from them, which may have identified you as superior to them or at least as being different from them and they from you.

Now recall the labels that were used on you as a teenager: weirdo, jock, brain, egghead, momma’s boy, juvenile delinquent, teacher’s pet, bum, stuck-up, whatever it was – we all had them.

As you stand before these images fill your mind with all of these limiting labels … then look into their faces. Do you see an emotion you’ve felt, a pain you’ve carried, a freedom you’ve longed to know? Can you bridge the gap between you and them?

PS: This is one of the reasons I haven't posted a blog for a while.

Hot Stuff

Another RISD alum, Preston Hubbard was part of The Fabulous Thunderbirds (bass) in the '80's . This video also features Duke Robillard on rythm, who founded Roomful of Blues (of which Hubbard was also a member at one time) in my home state of Rhode Island. Duke is, in my opinion, one of the best guitarists I have ever seen. I fondly recall the bad ol' days when I used to go down to Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel in Providence to listen and dance to some of the hottest blues around.

Life During Wartime

Fellow RISD alums.

The Gift of Kimbo

I spent the better part of this morning with a good friend, someone with whom I can be myself, for better or worse. Kim is a delightful and nurturing woman, dedicated to her own growth and a light-bearer for others who are fortunate enough to find themselves within her sphere of influence.

She came to me from Oregon two years ago, an art educator who made the courageous decision to return to school in order to pursue a doctorate degree at Montana State University. We connected immediately, being of like mind and temperament, and have become oases for one another. This weekend it was I who made the call, in the hopes of fending off an incapacitating vegetative state and, as luck and friendship would have it, she was eager and willing to meet for morning tea.

Conversations between Kim and I are always meaningful and restorative; we openly share ourselves and gratefully receive the other. It is with this dear friend that I can safely shine a light on the darkened corners of myself and with whom I feel more beautiful and ageless than a starry Montana sky. Today was no different: I started out confessing over chai in a coffee shop and ended up rejoicing on top of Peet’s Hill, basking in the warmth of sunlight and unconditional friendship.

I wish I had more friends like Kim; she is a kind and loving soul who affords me occasions to be kind and loving in return. These are the marks of a true friend, I think, to bring out the best in us and then to hold the mirror that we may see our own beauty and light.

Long weekend

An extra day to lie around in my underwear and read.

The Game

His knight invades,
Gallant conqueror of my defenses.
Briefly I waiver, intoxicated with
His exquisite intentions.
Catching my breath, I slide my Queen
Across the threatening squares,
Her sacrifice testimony to
My unspoken desire.
We thrust and parry,
Purpose yielding to passion,
Cool deliberation overcome by
Subtle intrusions of mystery.
The boundaries of the board
Cannot contain the spirit of the game,
Its hidden agenda to merge
The black and the white,
To render oneness from
Irreconcilable opposition.
The play intrigues, enchants, infuriates;
Seduction of the Soul.
Only capture of my King
Brings release from this
Sweet anguish, this aching rapture.
Momentary relief, as he begins again,
Begins once more to know me,
To captivate me move by move,
And mate me with his smile.

~ May 1995