It used to be that I made art because I felt that I was good at it. Anymore, it seems I’m making art to get good at it, and that is what holds my interest. Art is infinitely challenging. In the process of making art, I usually find out more about myself and the order of the universe then I learn about technique or procedure. In throwing pottery, it becomes obvious when enough is enough, and how one false move can screw up an already beautiful scenario. The same is true in painting, but canvas is more forgiving than clay. With drawing, I’ve learned not to over think things, because that critical voice inside my head is incapable of creating spontaneous beauty, unlike my hands. Art is a great teacher, and someday, I hope to teach art to others and continue the learning process.
It is hard for me to say what the subject of my artwork is. For me, artwork has always been disposable, and I tend to keep nothing. I feel that what should remain is not an artifact created by me, signed or framed, but instead, the skills I have learned by doing so. If I had to find one similarity that my artwork possessed; a theme, it would be that everything I make seems to be directly connected to the human experience. Until now, I’ve never been forced to ask myself why this huge emphasis on my own species above all other things in such an immeasurable universe? Having done so, I come to the conclusion that it is not an act of ego-centricity so much, as an awareness of human responsibility. As a species, we determine the fate of all other creatures who share this planet with us. We determine our own outcome. Humans are capable of such perfection, and such destruction. I create art that exploits both sides of our human nature.
