Art is an exploration of our relationship with the world. All an artist can offer is his own unique perspective. I see the world both through the lens of a camera and the eye of a painter. The world is my palette. I love its textures, the tangled roots of an ancient tree, the complexity and color of rusted metal, or the peeling paint on an abandoned church wall. I have written a lot of bios and artist statements in the past. Most have been very brief discussions about my work and my personal vision as an artist, a list of galleries, shows, and clients. But this will be my first attempt at a deeper look into my public and private life as an artist. I have always been fascinated by the natural beauty, eventual decay and the rich texture of the world around me. Everything we touch becomes an artifact of our life, a piece of our personal history. As an artist I am in fact a historian of my own life experience and the world around me. In my work I seek to explore the relationship between the world we live in and the world we have left behind moment by moment. Shards of pottery dug up after a thousand years reflect a moment in some person’s life, now long forgotten. I am often asked how long I’ve been making art. And my answer is always the same: there was never a time that I didn’t identify as an artist. Exactly how much of that is the way I was raised or genetics is hard to say. Both of my parents were artists and creativity in the family was highly valued. So there was a lot of nurturing in that direction. But at the same time genetics clearly played a role. There is no question that growing up in a family of artists had its advantages. In addition to being an artist my mother was a school teacher, scholar and world traveller. The same is true for my father. He was also a graphic designer and one of his greatest accomplishments was designing the house he lived in for 30 years. My brother, sister and I were taught to appreciate art with trips to museums, galleries, art fairs and artist studios. But in addition to our exposure to culture we were taught to see the world through the eyes of an artist, to appreciate the delicate color of a sunset or the natural beauty of driftwood found on the beach sculpted and shaped by weather, water and time. We were taught to believe that the world of art was all around us. My father was especially fond of taking us on “found art” walks along the railroad tracks, in fields and through empty lots. We would undoubtedly find something to collect and save by the end of the day that would end up on our walls as part of our collection of found art. Art was also a part of holiday traditions in our family. Christmas, Easter and Halloween were opportunities to make things. My mother was best at this. When we were children and throughout her life she created beautiful and elaborate Christmas cards. Decorating Christmas cookies and coloring Easter eggs were family traditions and often a competition. On Halloween our costumes were always creative and handmade. The influence of my parents didn’t end there. They both loved to entertain, so as children, we often met artists, writers, musicians and intellectuals. It had more of an effect on me than my brother and sister as this helped shape my view of what I could become. I’ll say one last thing about growing up with parents as artists. In addition to all the benefits there was one thing I’ve had to struggle with. Both my parents were strongly opinionated, and if I’m being honest, art snobs. They were quick to point out what they thought was bad art or clichéd, cheap or overly sentimental and some of those biases were passed on to me. Among the most destructive was their belief that being a commercial artist and a fine artist were incompatible and if you chose the former you would live a life destined for compromise and the latter destined for poverty. I’ve come to believe that the idea of being an “Artist” is a social construct, a romantic invention, an identity. But at some point it is also a choice, one that places demands on us and challenges us. As we answer those challenges we get better at what we do, stronger, sharper, more sensitive, more creative. At the same time not terribly different from people who choose to be executives, chefs, policemen or teachers. Choosing the identity of an artist also comes with a set of values, and of course each individual decides for themselves exactly what those are. For some it’s a calling, others a profession, and still others a religion. Exactly how we see ourselves is dependent on the culture that we were born into and that unique moment in historical time. And yet, at the moment that we take our first breath, all that changes. The crush of historical events shapes us, the advance of technology leads us, the condition of our body limits us and economic circumstances define us. As we live our life from one moment to the next all these things change. In my life, I’ve been a fine art painter, illustrator, graphic designer, commercial photographer, a product designer, publisher, writer, fine art photographer and finally a digital artist and wet media artist. I have come to terms with the conflict between fine art and commercial art. The way I’ve answered that question is by asking myself, who is the client, am I doing this work for myself, or someone else, it’s that simple, and both are ok.