Simple and accessible, my sculptures portray common objects in unexpected forms that are surprising, intelligent, beautiful, and humorous. Made from incongruous components, they insinuate something with a unique form, content, and purpose. In their oddity, they attempt to define the essence of things by disrupting our expectations.
Is a chair with five legs still a chair? What happens when two eggs sit at the helm of a beater? What’s the point of an inverted chair impersonating a cello? And why should seven sparkplugs and a pressure gauge encircling a stainless steel colander mounted by a juice squeezer look so perfectly natural?
What makes this junk art? And what is art, anyway? It appears to be something that happens in the human brain when the senses are intensely attracted or repelled by a certain image or object. It is a flash, like the painful joy of falling in love, the struggle and sudden comprehension of a clever joke, the fleeting moment of dissipating ecstasy. It is the opposite of monotony in the extreme.
I was born in Baltimore, raised in Arizona, and have lived and worked as an artist and writer for many years in the Bay Area.