As a color blind painter, I am often asked, "how do you do it?" The truth is a bit of a double-edged sword. The creative process is a mixture of struggle and opportunity for any artist. My specific disability has been a source of frustration, but also a chance for me to to stretch myself beyond the comfort zone of my own physiology. My voice as an artist has come from surrendering myself to a process that focuses on balance and unity; capturing my inspiration in as few brush strokes as possible.

I am a prolific painter, and I want to paint every day. Once I have climbed the stairs to my studio, I lose all sense of time, completely immersed in solving problems. My goal is to create a balanced play of color and light. I tend to work very quickly, over long periods of time, not wanting to lose the original feeling of the painting. This technique has facilitated my excitement toward creating in different styles and subject matter. My strength lies in the under-painting, where I let the subject self-evolve from abstractions of color and movement. I am attracted to strong design, the texture of a painterly hand, and remain old school as a believer in 100% self -drawn art. I have learned that part of surrendering involves being open to critiquing at different stages of completion; often having these reactions to experimentation, gains perspective on the flow, and reaffirms my direction. My family uses this time to ensure that my total color-blindness has not created another painting in the the "blue period" style--as it is affectionately called. Keeping everything in perspective, helps me to receive criticism without getting too defensive; and also affords me the chance to connect with how my work affects others.

I treat my talent as a gift and try not to let it go stale. Viewers often remark, "it seems like you have so many styles. How can you do it?" A lifetime of painting and formal experience has laid a strong foundation for my creative impulses to play off of. I began in the mode of the proverbial "starving artist: using gasoline in place of turpentine, if supplies were too expensive. I worked from still life set-ups, photographs, human subjects, and pure fantasy. I have drawn from the great artists like Van Gogh, Chagall, Turner, and the Hudson River School painters. I enjoy taking an inspiration and making it my own, sometimes working only with palette knife, or turning the canvas to work from different perspectives. When I worked on the "Mother Teresa and Child", I felt like Mother was with me as I painted; teasing me about her nose being to long, or me painting too many wrinkles on her face. Away from the trappings of a time-scheduled life, I was absolutely unable to do anything else but paint. That is the power--and beauty--of art. Thank you for viewing my work.