New Yorker by nature, New Englander by inclination. Born under the sign of Aquarius in the year of the Rabbit. A mostly self-taught surrealist working in collage and assemblage and recently immersed in an obsession for dollhouses. A writer of dark and fantastic fiction. I tend to muddle all these things together.
At heart, I’m a storyteller, though I usually avoid saying what the stories are about. I prefer to leave that to you. But whether fantastic or prosaic, my work is always about real stuff – real people, real places, real feelings.
I live in a formerly industrial, now tree-filled section of a big city, in an apartment I chose for the light and which I share with two cats and my dear and sainted mother.
Definitely mixed. Paper is the foundational material of most of my work, but I’ll build art out of almost anything. Anything that grabs my eye and my mind. Anything that seems like it wants to say or do or be something. An empty olive jar wants to display specimens in a museum. An old eraser wants to transform into a comet shooting across a sky. That kind of thing.
Collage or assemblage (3D collage, in a sense). Whether I am composing an image on canvas, or a free-standing human figure, building a dollhouse out of kits and scraps, or laying out the pages of a book, I am always building something out of something else.
Joseph Cornell, ultimate spiritual art mentor. My homeboy from Queens, middle of the food chain, yo. A man who had many of the same dreams as me, and even the ones I don’t share, I get.
Marcel Duchamp, attitude.
Matisse and Rodin, because the way they did things makes sense of the way I do things, which helps me understand what I’m talking about, and that’s a key step, let me tell you.