What I really love about being an artist, a painter,
is the creating of things that no one has ever seen.
Creating environments in whose two-dimensional space
I loose myself in a world that is totally fresh and new —
colors and shapes that are filled with energy and movement
that propel my soul off its feet and into a weightless flight
through what becomes a multidimensional scape where
physical, spiritual, intellectual and emotional intertwine
to make me one with the dance of light and fire,
of sound and wind, of muscle and blood that is the ringing
of a bell, the refracting of a ray, the heat of a thrill,
the breath of life and the mystery of death revealed all at once.
Its the complexity of the simple and the simplicity of the complex,
the amazement in the mundane and the peace of chaos
that brings me back in spite of my more practical nature
to explore the idiocy of intent and the sanctity of the perverse.
Roll on silver diamond, bring me back the painted face
and out of the mustached harlot a return to the source.
Grind on as I move about you like a humming bird in hunger
doing everything that makes sense more than the scent of cents.