Statement of Work

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I am here to tell you a story, but only part of it. I'll leave you hanging at the precise moment something extraordinary is about to happen. That's my job. The viewer's job is to complete the narrative based on personal experience.

My paintings are excerpts—pages torn from weird short stories, partial conversations overheard at a party, or snippets of soundbites. These excerpts become a visual starting the second the mundane is about to become phenomenal.

My paintings study the absurdities of people. Growing up in New Orleans has given me endless material to draw from. The heat is glorious but overbearing, the food is delicious and deadly, and the people are painfully endearing or painfully vicious. These elements entice humans to do exceptionally odd things.

The South has a form of witchcraft that starts with a pleasant accent, like sugar on your tongue, and ends with a stab in the heart. Tradition is a way of life, and rituals are important long after it's been forgotten what they stand for. When those dearest traditions are threatened, things become disastrous, resulting in the worst excuses for bad behavior.

I strive to find people in predicaments that are downright ridiculous or absurd. And yes, many of these scenes are autobiographical. Some people work out their tangled relationships, hopes, doubts, and fears in their dream life. I work mine out on canvas. A self-exploration of remembered images collected throughout my lifetime: childhood memories, vintage advertising themes, or absorbed comments on women.

Much of my work has a robust feminine overtone, helping the pieces create a common theme. The women in my paintings are plenty of things, but powerless is not one of them. Whether it's a woman clearly crossing on "DON'T Walk" or a bride hiding in the dark to eat a sticky barbecued rib, they are in charge of their destiny.

The final painting never takes itself too seriously. This work is provocative but gentle, connecting us to personal memories through intimate, nostalgic amusement. I want to strike a chord, permitting people to laugh at a memory. Whether it's a bad hair day or a bad marriage, time softens edges into warm recollections. My characters prove that everyone can embrace their own reality, laugh at tragedies, spotlight bad decisions, expose vulnerabilities, and choose to exchange pain or sadness for a new understanding of the past.