For about 5 years in the Boulder, CO area, I enjoyed playing with a band named Hypnic Twitch. We went through a few bass players but the rest of the band made it the duration. Covers and originals, it was a great time!
My collages invite the viewer into a wonderful world of color and motion, merging discord with harmony, often inspired by the throbbing tempo of heavy metal and jazz that continuously vibrates my studio. My complex compositions are boldly created in brilliant Fauve colors, linear but always casual and fluid. Like a good guitar soloist improvising on a well-known melody, I try to get my viewers to see familiar objects in a new way, by fine tuning my lines and forms. I feel their motion is contagious, spilling from frame to frame, infecting even the Philistine.
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Me and the four. Well, five if you count the 106 pound black lab, Porter. Remi, an athlete with a brain garden full of flowers studying on a full scholarship to NYU. Jack, sensitive surfer dude with a great head on his shoulders and a throwing arm worthy of John Elway. Hannah, a lovable squirrel playing in her garden of unicorns, very smart and already a slave to fashion. And finally Lily, little tomboy that is ready to take on the world laughing while she does it!
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!
a funeral procession
down a tree-lined lane
of rusted derelicts -
old trucks' hoods raised
as tombstones
in long untended yards
past a one-window shanty
leaning precariously as
a child's crayon drawing
put quickly together
an old man with a dried-apple face
sits on the porch
with flyswatter poised
watching the spiritless people
clenched like cold fists
heads bowed in unhurried chase
bearing another gift
to their dissatisfied god
These are my Grandfather's letters. Some are written many years before he joined the war effort and underscore the difficulty of living in that time. Other letters are written from boot camp, both at Leavenworth and Camp Wolters, TX. They describe a man sometimes confident and proud of his accomplishments, and other times unsure of his place in "this man's army", as he put it. The rest of the letters, at best, hint at the plodding pace of war as he fought in France. Because of the censor's watchful eye, his letters are almost benign as they speak of simple things like wishing for hot coffee, fresh pancakes, and music. Nevertheless, they allowed me to glimpse into the heart and mind of a man I never knew. To see what our fighting brave and their families at home gave up to preserve the freedoms we can so easily take for granted. Visit Site
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I promise that I shall never give up, and that I'll die yelling and laughing.
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nec ac in, sed cum tincidunt! Adipiscing magna pulvinar tincidunt, sed
adipiscing scelerisque sit placerat placerat penatibus pulvinar magnis
mid elementum ultricies ac enim amet pulvinar scelerisque nisi massa.
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Hac ridiculus a dis nisi integer urna pid, lundium velit velit
aliquet nascetur duis, nec. Ac, ac duis pulvinar scelerisque? Hac
penatibus, natoque elit, dis nisi ac. Parturient scelerisque adipiscing
sit pellentesque rhoncus mid? Placerat turpis? Turpis et amet? Arcu
turpis arcu porta massa a pulvinar odio, scelerisque! Read More
