Hello! Like most people, I began to draw and paint in kindergarten. Unlike most, I was painting fairly realistically in oils and pastels by the time I was seven. By the time I was an adolescent, I could paint or draw almost anything I set my mind to, and my life’s goal was to strive to be the world’s next great celebrity artist . . . the next Pablo Picasso, Jackson Pollock, Andy Warhol, or or some other such naive and idiotic concept (cue the laugh track). After a decade of college Art courses, and four more decades of professional toil since . . . the achievement of that goal never materialized. I might be tempted to ask myself “What went wrong with my brilliant plan?” if it weren’t for the fact that now, at the age of 66, I find myself reasonably well-blessed and happy (and have the good sense not to ask such useless questions any longer). Somewhere along the way, I bid adieu and made my peace with my youthful ambitions, expectations, and sense of entitlement. I’ve since learned to pursue all of my creative impulses from an unhurried place of balance (more or less). I get passionate about the practice of it, in order to get the intended vision of it correct. But I no longer worry too much about what people think of it when it’s done, or whether anyone will pay me, or think better of me for it. I have a small network of creative friends whose opinions matter to me and with whom I share my activities. As I’ve stated elsewhere, my friend Jeff Kaiser, once told me of a definition of Art as being little more than children playing on a mudbank and calling out to one another to show off their mud creations. More than anything else, that attitude of “play” very much permeates my approach to all creativity — and especially to visual Art these days. I simply offer it as another way of sharing for those who care to “tune in.” Thanks for visiting.