Human beings occur -- are not actually born. They would just… rather be born. Meanwhile, my ambidextrous, educated, and saintly grandfather encouraged my left handedness.
I was born, if you'd rather, on 15 December 1948 in Danbury, Connecticut... bereft of a zip code. Abruptly, young roots were potted and a restless dash was made across trackless chunks of territory outlined in Monroe's doctrine. Venezuela, Canada, both United States coasts and Texas ( I'm more a Texan than George Bush ) were early homes.
Formative years seethed with the movements and the passions of those turbulent sixties on a chaotic west coast. I questioned, as many did, the price of ceremony's horn of plenty, and I crossed my arms at the guile implied by custom's laurel tree.
...The innocence of those sixties, then, was perverted at last by human beings, as is our *grand* Christian tradition. The Woodstock movement failed, or it failed me . . . perhaps I even failed it, but I foolishly did what all young romantics foolishly do in the face of a foolishly perceived betrayal; I joined the *Legion*, and went off to fight in a foreign war.
Enlisting and qualifying for Army flight training at the height of the failing Viet Nam debacle, I flew a thousand hours in combat, and with serendipity discovered a natural enjoyment for teaching the understanding of foundational principles. Later on I picked up the hard jobs, the ones no one else wanted -- finding satisfactions in them. Race/human relations, Cadet Officer Training, and counseling were major occupations. On many levels Human relations have been the focus of my twenty-three year military career.
Lastly, I refused my last promotion to settle where I'd washed up after decades of tedious world travel. I've recently earned a special education teaching credential -- will attempt a necessary, unquestionably honorable and useful occupation. My long term goal is a continuing exploration of Mind, Matter, and Movement in word, paint, and music.
My artwork is a reflection of the preceding years as seen through an "AlienView." My art is honest, and it asks difficult questions. It wants to know what a woman is, as men are figured out. It is obliquely religious, across the grain, and challenging to the convenient institutions of the framers. It is detailed and frank. It is for me what I want art to be -- as close to the truth as morality should allow.
To the future is a fundamental wish to be of intelligent use to my community -- a producer -- and one with only the ax of efficacy to grind.