Bio

It started like this:

I won a poster contest in the first grade, back in 1975. The poster was a large, colorful crayon drawing depicting sea life inspired by Ed Emberly’s “How to Draw Animals.” It featured an array of aquatic creatures such as fish, sharks, crabs, octopus, and more. I remember a lot of positive feedback, and it felt wonderful. From then until sometime in my early twenties, I was fairly prolific, and produced a lot of work. Especially in my Junior and Senior years of High School. My goal in those years was to get art scholarships. In 1989 I even challenged 17 art credits at Boise State University, and they “gave” them all to me. I had many people tell me to “keep my pencil sharp”, but ultimately, I didn’t. On the brink of starting the life as a fine artist that I wanted to have, I didn’t pursue art further beyond creating and selling a piece or two, here and there. But why?

I found that I would finish a piece, show it a little, and it would soon disappear into a portfolio, under the bed, or inside a closet. (hence my self-appointed “Closet Artist” title). “Praise and admiration” of my work didn’t interest me, and once I decided that I wasn’t going to seek other people’s appreciation, I stopped showing anyone my work but perhaps whoever I was closest to.

I had also decided that there really weren’t any “practical uses” for art. I wasn’t showing it in galleries. I only made trifling sales of my art, because I had no idea how to market myself. One thing became VERY certain: I concluded that I was never going to be a “starving artist”, so (and this was one of the biggest regrets in my life for a long time) I decided to put down any remaining thoughts of using my pencils, pens, and brushes, to focus on learning a skill. A trade- and I became a concrete form setter and finisher. A construction guy. My art could wait until “Phase B” of my life (whatever/whenever that was supposed to happen- presumably once I was so broken down I would have to get out of construction). I traded something I enjoyed for regular, consistent money. And in the process, I let over 25 years pass by without producing more than a few pieces.

I’m now happy to say that those days are over- at age 54, I finally realized that for me, the purpose of art is simply to enjoy creating a drawing or painting, and that my work must be shared with the world. Perhaps someone will want my art, and perhaps not. It makes no difference, really. All I know is, I like making my art again. It’s healing. It relieves stress. It adds purpose and meaning. All good things- and yes, I am going to sell it to people that find me and are interested.

I also realized that although for a while it felt like such a waste of time, as I picked up my pencil and sharpened it, that perhaps the 25 or so years in which very little art was created was needed for perspective. Perspective helps us all to see the world as it is, and I think the secret to good art is the ability to see.

Thank you for allowing me to share my story and my artwork with you!