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Here is what I am after as an artist, I suppose it may not be very different from what everybody else is also after; to see around the bend of my life as I have lived it to date, and to catch a glimpse of what may lay ahead. Or above. Or beyond. Or beneath. As I grope towards what I take to be "forward", or at least around the bend, from time to time I come to places, in my case, paintings, that seem to make the way clearer.

Step by step, image after image, my expanding view of this journey I call my life becomes richer, fuller, more stunning, often less explicable. I like it that way. My art seems not only to be a means by which my view of my world ripens and clarifies, but on occasion it seems I am shown things through my studio practice that my more deliberate and schooled methods fail to bring to light. That's when the going really gets good, and I bring home something to show. Sometimes I paint what I know. More often now, as if my hands and eyes had a compact with something other than my mind, and before my all too clever mind vetoed the thing, I come to learn the meanings and joys of what I have just painted. That's the best.

Viewing my work invites long, slow consideration, something you can come back to repeatedly, with each visit some new feature inviting another consideration, another small pleasure. It's not hard to view my work, but like the rest of life, my work is layered, only gradually unfolding.

My project is simple to say; to make an account of what happens to me when I allow, or at least don't disallow, the world to take a big bite of me, and then to say what happened, nothing more and nothing less.

I've worked for some years on softening the boundaries between my body, my mind and my spirit, trying not to let one dominate, getting all three aspects of me in alignment, or at least to be present and not to argue. In this way, my paintings are also a resultant of these same qualities facing as directly into the world as I can muster, guiding my hand to do what it "knows". Being an ordinary man, I expect these painting may well strike a sympathetic chord with a number of others, for we all seem to be built along similar enough lines, and the wild world pours down upon us night and day, equally on rich and poor, the ready and not.