In social science, operational definitions are crucial to researching any concept. It’s all meaningless if you don’t have a clear understanding of what properties your concept consists of. What are you measuring, collecting, or observing? When I think of Art, I ask myself these questions.

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What is an Artist? Is it measured in how you dress: a beret and paint-stained shirt? Is it internal: measures of emotional turmoil, angst, mania? Is it not a measure of the maker, but rather, of what is made? If so, then a new question arises: What is Art? Why are some things it and others not? I’ve been reaching to achieve the status of Artist for years. I’ve been hoping that one day, after all I’ve made and felt and experienced, I can mark off the right boxes that will finally give me an Artist BINGO. But how will I know when that happens? When, with the pieces I create, will I join the ranks of the many Artists before me?

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Probing these perplexing questions, I address the essence of the Artist and their Art, from the Artist’s self, to the mediums they employ. In many studies, I collect familiar Art images as groundwork for my investigations. Irreverently engaging history, famous self portraits become a theory that my own image fights to contradict or complement. At other times, my explorations lead me to question the boundaries of painting, the medium of the Masters. In some works, painting collaborates with photography in a process that bears the mark of each in organically abstracted prints. Only with this experimentation in hand can I finally observe painting in it’s comfortable confines. If, ultimately, my work speaks to you of process or form, I’m pleased. If it evokes a laugh, I’m excited. But, if you find yourself puzzled, pestered by the bottomless question: Is this Art? Don’t discount it - follow it. I’m asking it too.