I paint in two different styles: Surrealscapes and Character Studies. Surrealscapes are landscapes reconceived and populated with a vibrant variety of living and interacting creatures. To fully experience Surrealscapes, it helps to clear your mind and meditate on the painting, exploring the ways in which the characters interact and the dimensions shift as the eye scans each plane. In this way, one can vacation from reality at any time and emerge from surreality renewed and with a fresh perspective. To aid this, each painting is paired with a poem meant to impart a certain immediacy of feeling, providing another avenue to enter into each painting. Character Studies focus on a single entity and explore them in detail, sometimes through vivisection, exploring each entity and its relations to this and other worlds.
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Painting
Surrealscapes
Acrylic on Wood Panel, Mixed Media 49 x 29 x 1.75 cm Drawn by thought from nothingness with unbearable poignancy, like Madness Maladressed.
Acrylic, Mixed Media 90 x 35 x 3.5 cm The obeisant ideological breezes persuade us in tongues. Hail us. Leach our colors while we, reed blown and at bay, Dream of Certainty.
Acrylic, Mixed Media 74 x 77 x 3.5 cm Deep behind the moat of doubt, mired in your reflection and constructed of seamless stainless steel, it appears—looming above you, The Vampiric Pedestal of Silence.
Acrylic 25 cm x 25cm canvas board Far away from the persuasions of the port, a ship in full battle dress, flag at full mast billowing with light conversation, it stretches itself. Four smoke stacks defy their anchor, dare the thorny axe, and deny the hook, chanting instead En Avant!
46 x 36 x .25 cm My gaze fixed on another far horizon, I unravel. Letting what was wound unwind and flutter in the breeze of imagination, for I, am Elucious.
Acrylic, Mixed Media 77 x 57 x 4 cm There is a geography of hinderance on the road home, bright as a blade whose unbearable poignancy declares All; All in the service of luxury. All Blue Oceaned Vanity, Undressed.
Acrylic 120 x 43 x 4 Truth dripping through our teeth like blocks watches from the rafters as the usual suspects queue in search of a new Winter of Memory.