People occasionally ask why I spend so much time drawing before I begin a painting. The honest answer is that I don't really know another way. Every painting I've ever created began long before the first brush touched a canvas. It began with looking. Then looking again. Then realizing I hadn't really seen it at all. When I was younger, I assumed drawing was about learning how to reproduce what was in front of me. A face A hand A figure An object Over time, I discovered someth

I've been thinking lately about how much of our lives are shaped by the stories we're given about ourselves. Some arrive as compliments. Others arrive as labels. The unfortunate thing is that children rarely know the difference. I grew up collecting labels: Dyslexia ADHD Dyspraxia A handful of others depending on who was doing the evaluation. At a time when many of these conditions were still poorly understood, the solutions were often imperfect. I spent portions of my educat

People often assume I paint faces because I enjoy painting people. The truth is a little more complicated. I've spent most of my life trying to understand why people become who they become. Painting simply became another way of asking the question. When I was young, drawing occupied an unreasonable amount of my attention. I drew on paper. I drew on school assignments. Occasionally, I drew on things that weren't intended to be drawn on. Much to my parents' frustration. Looking

I thought I moved to Colorado for a change of scenery. Looking back, I think I moved because some part of me knew I had reached the edge of an old life. At the time, I explained it more practically. I wanted greater access to nature. More mountains. More space. A different pace of life than what I had known in Texas. But if you've ever made a significant change in your life, you know the reasons we give ourselves are rarely the whole story. I had spent years studying psycholo