I consider myself like a parent to my art, I create it, nurture it, devote my time and love to make it the best that I can, But in time, I have to set it free and send it out into the world, what happens to it then, while it still affects me, I realize I have no control over it, In a sense, my art has become a separate, living entity to be evaluated and interpreted by all that come in contact with it.
Because of this, I feel uncomfortable when pressed to describe my work. I like for people to look at it and enjoy it as they see it. I don’t like to tell people what they should be seeing. I like my pictures to tell stories, and I want people to see their own story in it.
I suppose I have been an artist all of my life, at least, it seems that all of my life’s events have led me to this place and still influence the type of work that I create. My work has been called a blend of fantasy and reality, and that certainly has been the case for Me., I learned at an early age that not all things are exactly as they seem, and my work has evolved through the years. One aspect of my art has remained consistent, that there is no constant, and that reality is always just beyond the boundary of imagination.
As Such, my work is a reflection of my life, but not the reality of it and as my life is ever-evolving; my art continues to be a work in progress. But above all it’s this search for the individual and the struggle for the independence of sprit that continues to drive me beyond what has been expected.
Some of my work may be seen as somewhat controversial, voyeuristic, and erotic, it is definitely sexual, but there is a playfulness to that sexuality, like a sirens song, it beckons the viewer to take part, but warns not to be fooled by the tease, it is not the dance, but only the invitation.