A blue rider, though my horse doesn't need to be.
Environment is key to feeling, and I seek to create a sense of more than one environment, not only to examine what juxtaposition would look like visually, but also to create a "musical" dialogue for the eyes that avoids stagnancy and counterpoints the inherent dynamism possible in a static image.
This creativity drives brushwork with revision after revision that delights in simplicity and complexity as warp and weft. The output of which is small treasures of visual delight, collected glyphs and motifs that tell a semiotic story that changes according to the audience, and for the audience according to the moment in time and place.
If I were to use one word to define my aim as a didactic artist, it would be "Hitsuzendo."
If I were to use a different word to define what happens to me when compelled to create, it would be "Anarchy."
The grind and excitement of near-constant movement has given me a stormy and tense relationship to space, and to movement within that space. From walled-off Berlin, foggy Vienna, quaint Alpine villages, and myriad boxy American cities--each environment adding something subtle to my creations. I often pose the philosophical question--why would a thing need to represent another thing, if its own beauty in form should be recognized? I crave tension--seeking truth through examination of angles, trial--error, and the narrative that develops visually through the "indelibility" of contact between pen and paper.