My art has many layers: of natural and artificial, of visible and hidden, of valueless and priceless, of image and object, of temporal and permanent -- and attempts to reconcile such seemingly intractable opposites, upending dominant assumptions in the process.

Painting is often like a rowboat: "stroke, stroke, stroke". A lot of modern art is like a motorboat: automated. In contrast to both, much of my art is like a sailboat: It works with Nature.

My art considers "natural" processes and both incorporates and extends them. In so doing, it questions what constitutes "nature". That is, "artificial" objects that have a nature-like process iteratively applied to them in a sense become "natural" over time. "Natural" objects that are swallowed by the "artificial" aren't really still "natural". Human beings are central to both processes. 

"Be that empty". We don't see the world till we see the negative."Don't just admire the vase, drink the water." Don't just paint a canvas with the likeness of a flower, paint the flower itself. Paint it again. And again. Then, cut it open, like a ripened fruit and look inside. Like an animal devours a carcass. Don't just paint a likeness of the snow, paint the snow -- and the rain and samaras. They all fall like manna from heaven. Really look at what we are provided.

There's a theme of resolving issues of image and object; allowing a thing to speak for itself. After an object is layered over and over, it can be cut or sanded down and the underlying reality of the object -- no matter how extensively it was covered up -- will again assert itself even though the "object" itself may seem invisible. This can also be done with collections of objects through the "emptiness" which connects all things. My art is of this world, yet has an ethereal quality. It rejects "materialism" in the usual sense of the word -- showing the beauty of the negative space of an object itself regarded as valueless. But it is completely materialistic in that it is about truly seeing the "everyday" physical world before us that we often ignore or even deride. Many only experience freezing crystal structures as an annoyance on a car windshield they diligently scrape off. Such are rarely regarded as wonders to behold. 

Part of the process for my art is being in touch with the primitive -- gathering flora and fauna to include in the work. Each season provides fresh material every year as it did for our ancestors. 

Now, our society is remarkably divorced from Nature, at times virtually at war with it as huge effort is expended in attempting to control it -- often producing disaster and trauma. We should instead to be at peace with Nature. It ultimately is constantly present, no matter how much some work to pretend otherwise. 

There's a theme of the role of memory; an influence of photography, "capturing" a moment in time. Much of the work is inspired by shadows and reflections and imprints -- these are especially important to me because they make much of our modern cityscapes more bearable.

Some works make allusions to geology, seeming to extend far back in time. Other works show the most fleeting of objects. Both these extremes are seen -- sometimes in the same pieces -- in how I work with snow. Some snow pieces look like land masses. Some preserve the most ephemeral and delicate of objects -- a snowflake.

I draw freely from influences from a wide variety of artistic, philosophical and spiritual traditions, at times attempting to reconcile ostensibly competing "schools". 

I attempt to manifest in microcosm that peace with nature our society needs -- accepting spontaneity rather than seeking control; allowing nature and intuition take hold through the art and letting a path "unfold". 

I've sought to co-mission Nature as a collaborator. We need to get out of the way and "Let the poetry speak." We desperately need a re-alignment around our relationship with nature -- and then come to a better understanding of our true identities and our own Nature.