Three months after my birth, the Bermuda Triangle swallowed my father forever.  The events surrounding his disappearance remain a mystery.  Three months later, PresidentKennedy fell and the rest of the country joined my family’s chaotic emotional state.  Any thoughts of a normal life were snuffed out before I learned to walk, talk, or comprehend.  But for three glorious, pre-cognitive months, I lived a perfect Norman Rockwell life: Top Gun pilot father, D.C. beauty queen mother, and four siblings in an idyllic, elegant, suburban dream.  From this unsteady and unpredictable foundation grew an undying belief that I lived at the epicenter of a world filled with real magic.  How else could a young boy explain the curious
events of a life unfolding in such a manner!  In my youth, magic and art existed around every corner; I wandered a music-filled, psychedelic 60's life.  I visited museums, galleries, and palaces. I learned ballet through observation while patiently waiting for my sister’s dance classes to end. I watched movies, plays, and musicals, every disparate element lodging in my brain to percolate quietly in the background until they were needed for future creations.

When my remarried mother moved us to the San Francisco Bay Area in 1968, the contrast between the exploding hippie culture and the world of high society from which we came mashed together to birth something entirely new. The juxtaposition of high and low culture - combined with my fundamental belief in magic - stoked my creative impulses; nothing seemed impossible. As I grew, I discovered and stoked a passion for fine art and painting. Being self-taught, I studied every artist who intrigued me, leading me to absorb and incorporate the styles of Sargent, Escher, Vargas, Mucha, Kelley and Mouse, (who did artwork for Journey and the Grateful Dead, members of San Francisco’s musical royalty), Monet, and of course, Dali. You can see hints of their work peppered throughout mine.  These artists illustrated through their incomparable work that art is indistinguishable from magic.

Like them, the creative impulse runs through me like crackling electricity and my paintbrush acts as time machine, portal, and magic wand all in one.  There is no place within imagination we cannot visit with canvas, board, and brush.  I invite you to enter my world and travel with me.  Explore my portfolio and contact me for sales and exhibition information.