My struggle of being able to conceptualize what’s in my head goes on in a visual way today. Anyone who has seen my latest work, "Dear Andy Series" will understand how serious this personal theoretical problem really is and how the war is not progressing too well. I’ve been an artist since birth and actually have original paintings from when I was 4 years old in kindergarten that I can recall details of. My autobiographical theme was the same then that I find my self engaged in today. After years of being broke, in my late twenties I went into the real estate profession and doodled during meetings. After 15 years I realized that making money was not as important to me as doodle drawings. I began pursuing a formal education in art which to my surprise, led me to graduate school. The investigations as a graduate student at University of Idaho of concepts and the other visual element, form, also still plagues me today. My color theory had always had 1 gear; wide open throttle, pure color of my west coast roots. At the University this style was challenged and the color race speeds on today toward some unknown finish line. My concepts began appearing to me like an estranged California Buddhism. After Graduate school I decided to continue the teaching that I was introduced to as a TA and show my work at colleges as I saw the faculty do. Both looked like unserious fun. I’ve taught at Sierra College on the North shore of Lake Tahoe, figure painting on campus of UC Davis and have shown at colleges along the West coast. Somehow, this led to me to Washington State living in a cabin along the Icicle River for a year before I had an epiphany to “make or break” in NYC. It has been five years since acting on that impulse and moving to NYC. I can say it has been an unreversable adventure into the survival of the artist in New York City. I have balanced it between spastic sucking of breath at the bizarre world of art, defensive driving through Brooklyn and long, peaceful, sandy beaches 20 minutes from my loft.