About

In our busy lives, art has the power to offer moments of pause and reflection. My work focuses on creating art that fits into public spaces, blending into the everyday flow of life. These pieces aren’t confined to museums; they pop up in unexpected places, inviting people to engage with them in their own way, sparking conversation and building a sense of community.

Public spaces are where we share experiences and stories, and by adding art to these spaces, I aim to give each place a unique identity. Art becomes part of the routine – something to notice on your way to work, a moment of inspiration during a lunch break, or a conversation starter between friends or strangers.

Creating art for public spaces requires both creativity and empathy. Each piece is designed to reflect the local environment – its history, culture, and people. I engage with the community to ensure the artwork resonates, offering something familiar that connects with personal experiences.

One of the best things about public art is its ability to spark dialogue. People stop, talk, and share ideas – whether it's about the artwork itself or the larger issues it brings up. These pieces turn passersby into participants, creating opportunities for connection in a fast-paced world.

I believe art should be a bridge, not a barrier. By placing it in everyday spaces, I aim to make art more accessible, inviting everyone, regardless of background, to engage. Art doesn’t have to be behind gallery walls; it can be part of the streets and public spaces we move through every day.

In a digital world, the physical presence of public art reminds us of the power of shared, tangible experiences. My goal is to create works that spark thought and foster connection.

In many of my works in the Topographies series I use the rigidity of the photographic picture plane and the grid structure as points of departure while looking for organic rhythms to emerge. I am interested in the contradictory nature within these constructions. For me these images present a discourse of contradictions- micro and macro, time and timelessness, and the containment of things that cannot be contained. The grid lends geometry and so tends to rationalize or abstract what would otherwise be mainly pictorial. I am filling a vast expanse, a kind of landscape, without perspective.

Here I use the idea of topography, a description or an analysis of a structured entity showing the relations among its components, as a format in which I can keep small details and still make a space that could go on and on, like the ocean itself. When we look at the world we assemble small views into a large idea like "the ocean.” We can't see it all at once and my views construct the whole from its parts.

The Somewhere, relies upon different types of construction. I use digital drawing along with photographic data to create images with a compressed perspective. These works are also based on elements of time in that they are complex compositions that describe fragments of information, time, and space. Our sense of time is constructed from small views like hours, days, weeks, and we assemble those into a larger idea of life itself. The idea of making one photograph of any given moment in time is not enough for me. I prefer to gather together many moments, each with its own unique characteristics, into one unified whole. I often use layering of images to both obscure and reveal what lies beneath the surface. I want to capture the feeling of time, light with its reflections and refractions, and movement. This, to me, suggests the space both above and below the surface, the present and memory, gathered together into one.

The Swim series is about the vernacular choreography inherent in figures as they move almost weightlessly through the water. In this watery environment the swimmers embody two of the six qualities of movement found in dance: suspend and sustain. Each person’s body responds to the freedom of weightless suspension in the water in a unique way. This is what fascinates me when observing ordinary people moving in the water. When digitally composing the pieces, I look for patterns of movement and rhythms that speak about how the subjects, who become my “dancers,” relate to each other in the overall choreography of the scene. The water becomes the medium through which the figures find connection to each other despite the rigid construction of the grid that is the underlying structure of these works. As I construct specific patterns of movement across the space of the photograph I’m interested in how each dancer’s movements lead into, compliment, contrast, and punctuate the movements of the other. The work both forces a separation between individuals by imposition of the grid and at the same time finds implied lines of movement that create a sense of individuals working in consort within the larger structure of “the dance.”

The works are constructed using the grid as a point of departure. Within the confines of the grid’s rigidity I look for the organic rhythms of the water and the “dancers” to emerge. I enjoy working within this contradictory space where the unyielding structure of the grid attempts to contain the fluidity of the water and the bodies and where the tension between visual separation and connection reflect the “push” and “pull” that are integral components of the language of dance itself.

In an era where our lives increasingly intersect with the digital realm, the series Virtually No Place Like Home seeks to delve into the intricate web of identity, self-presentation, and perception through altered photographs that use the exterior of homes as a metaphor for the self. As people often use their homes’ exteriors to project their identities by exhibiting religious icons, political signs and banners, paint colors and other forms of decoration this subject works as another way to explore identity in the modern world. Digitally manipulated and composited images of houses and landscapes invite viewers to contemplate the fascinating parallels between the curated online self and the exterior expressions of individuality found in the physical spaces we call home.

As each photograph emerges from a fusion of reality and imagination, the series mirrors the way we construct our online personas. In the same way that selfies often portray carefully selected moments to project a desired image, the houses in these images do the same; becoming canvases upon which objects of personal beliefs, affiliations, and aesthetics that I find prominently displayed on homes in my photographic wanderings are curated and assembled conveying, at best, half truths. In this series the exterior of a home, like a social media profile, is a stage where identity is manufactured, blending elements of concrete truth with fiction.

The intentional juxtaposition of religious icons, political symbols, and idiosyncratic decorations in the compositions challenges viewers to confront the evolving dynamics between authenticity and artifice. Just as online personas may only hint at aspects of our true selves, the external façades of these homes offer glimpses into the inhabitants' identities that are carefully curated to project preferred narratives. In this intersection between personal and public representation, the series underscores how our self-identity is increasingly influenced by a curated reality, where the boundaries between truth and fiction blur.

In Virtually No Place Like Home, the digital medium itself becomes a metaphor for the virtual landscape we navigate daily. The meticulously manipulated images mirror the malleable nature of online imagery, where filters and edits can transform even the most mundane into the extraordinary. As the series unfolds, viewers are prompted to examine the narrative threads that weave our perceptions, much like how social media filters alter the way we interpret the lives of others and, consequently, ourselves.

Ultimately, Virtually No Place Like Home challenges us to reflect on the stories we tell, both online and in the spaces we inhabit. By blurring the boundaries between fact and fiction, reality and curated representation, the series urges us to confront the complexity of our identities and the inherent desire to shape our identity narratives through carefully curated images that depart from the verifiable. In an age where authenticity is elusive, this collection of digitally manipulated compositions encourages us to explore the intricate dance between the way we present ourselves virtually and the deeply personal reality of who we are.

All photographs are about death. Like a program running in the background of a computer, the presence of death is in every photograph and it drives the creation of all photographs. Photographs become our means of intruding into the flow of time. Our desire to capture and hold onto fleeting moments of life and the presence of those we share our lives with drives us to release the shutter. This is, in turn, a life-affirming act; the photograph, a life-affirming artifact. The critic John Berger has argued that photographs, “ by affirming the subjective experiences of ordinary people …are used to refer to that which historical time has no right to destroy.”

Photography is a powerful mechanism for preserving and in some cases constructing memory. In the Past Tense series I use vintage vernacular photographs as a starting point for my digitally constructed images. I do not know the identities of most of the photographs’ subjects or the photographers who made them. I’m particularly interested in the unselfconsciousness of the photographers who made these vernacular images that hold no pretense of artfulness. Using the opening and closing of a shutter at a precise moment in time these photographers summed up all of their impressions of that moment. The photographs are a beautiful and tragic response to a moment in time quickly passing from existence. The images reveal the rich history of amateur photography with its unique vision. I see these vernacular photographs as gifts from the past that pay homage to the life of their subjects, many now long forgotten, to the photographers who made them, and to the medium that has captivated our imaginations since its inception. I’m as interested in the photographer’s impulse to make the photograph as I am in the people pictured. For me, each person pictured calls out through time, “remember me" and each photographer has preserved a moment snatched from the flow of time.

In making these pictures the original photographers were tapping into what is perhaps photography’s greatest “naturally occurring genius”; its ability to tell so much and yet to leave so much untold. I have used these images as a starting point for my constructions, layering images from the past with my own photographs. My process becomes a way to ritually commemorate the individuals in the photographs and the photographers who responded to them while creating new narratives. My works re-imagine stories of lives gone by. They pay homage to the people I feel I’ve come to know in some small way through their photographs and to the powerful impulse to immortalize them on the part of the photographers who captured them.