Thanks to the miracle of natural selection the human animal developed two different means of communicating with the members of his tribe, the language of consensus and the language of art. The former proved useful for conveying information: which plants and berries are safe to eat, how to make tools, where’s the best hunting ground. The latter allowed him to share through pictures, stories, music, and movement the deeper, more intimate reality of his unique and personal experience, his dreams, his complex feelings, and the intangible truth of his spirit. The language of consensus was useful for daily existence, but the language of art, with its ability to give expression to the inexpressible, was essential to survival.
While I mean no disrespect to my fellow artists, I dislike "mission statements," which too often grope to bestow deeper meaning on a body of work. The artist struggles to justify himself and his intentions long after the actual creation. The verbiage is better left to critics and academics desperately attempting to establish their significance. I prefer to let the images speak for themselves. This is what I have to share. To that end I've tried to group my work in loose categories that hopefully can help as a guide to what is in my mind as I experience the world around me. My curatorial effort is admittedly flawed and perhaps insufficient, but it's the best I can do.