I like bold art.
I'm not drawn to producing art that’s apologetically subdued; at least for now. There's a thrill to attempting an image that will suck some of the oxygen out of the room. If there's a dinner party going on in a room where Tree of Life is hanging on the wall and they're still talking about the bacon wrapped olives, I have failed.
As is obvious from my work, I'm fascinated by the human body. A martial artist for some four decades now, I’ve spent a lifetime analyzing human movement, forever marveling at the grace, the intricacy and the elegant potential of our physical form. This is why I gravitate toward idealized human—or humanesque—characters that tell a story, that have emotion, that evoke a response. The historical touchstone for my work lies in Renaissance sculpture, masterful works of stone and bronze from geniuses like Michelangelo, Giambologna and Cellini.
This is art that soars, that tells the saga of the human condition. This is art that embodies the spectrum of the human heart, capturing it forever in frozen repose. That's what I want (and find forever wanting) in my own art.
In pursuit of an image, I feel no obligation to be bound by reality. A chrome man? Why not? An alien creature whose skin is textured by digital pictures of tree bark? Sounds good to me. If it works for a picture, these are as rational to me as elderly citizens on a park bench feeding the pigeons. The main thing is to create without restraint. To create is to be free, and to create --- sometimes absurdly --- is to be absurdly free.
The most common response to my images is "I've never seen anything like it." This can be taken a couple of ways, but as an optimist I take it as a big compliment that never gets old. The best part about creating this art is sharing it with people who appreciate its uniqueness. To all of you who do, my undying thanks.