The heathens rage and all the gods are long since gone.  I have the totalitarian outlook of an aggressive minority of one, the mnemonic soul of souls, the reality of realities.  I sense the mystery of my vision, the distinctive experience of revelation and grace, when I yield to my nature and distance myself from even the most diaphanous outlines of reality.

My art has been the ontological pursuit of an escape - a way out in the habit of being .  a way to get off my cultural knees, skirt the lunatic fringe, wiggle and squirm through psycho-critical tendencies and eventually attain an illuminative state of freedom.  I strive to forget everything I have ever been taught, everything I have ever read, and everything I judge on a sliding scale of relative moral values.  I am enlightened by my self-deception, by the sincerity of my hypocrisy, duplicity and fraud.

There is an architectonic weight to the shadow that dances around me, a brittle tenacity in my inculcated beliefs of materialism.  I am forever untangling myself from the illusions of the medium.  I create to spiritualize matter, to concomitantly purify and sanctify substance.  Creativity is being in genesis, the disincarnation of truth, the apostasy of scientific realism.