I’m a painter based in the Washington, DC area. I started making art as a little kid. My mother had a studio in our house, and in a corner I had my own little table, where I worked on projects. I made underwater cities, battles, car races, monsters. My mom showed me how to make marbled paper, still lives, copying animals from photos, or just how to let go and do free drawing (my favorite). My father was a constant tinkerer/problem solver around the house when he wasn’t doing experiments at the lab in the furtherance of AIDS research. He made elaborate mazes out of wood for Christmas, and was always improvising new and better tools. He welded a metal rod to the clutch pedal of our VW bug so he could drive (he was physically unable to use his left leg). He was absolutely fearless. My parents also hung out with cool artists, writers and activists, who also had kids. They would drink cheap wine late into the night, play music, laugh and argue about politics and art.

My work today was informed in so many ways by those early years. Not in terms of subject matter, but more in the feelings of community and shared struggle that a life in the arts entails. Maybe in witnessing the symbiotic relationship between art and community, I encountered a full throated living of life - a notion of what real beauty looks like - and that propelled me to where I am now. I am always feeling my way through the darkness in pursuit of an illusive truth, and sometimes I find a clue.

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