At any given time, I carry around with me an assortment of odd, haptic experiences and visual impressions — how can I forget my near sighted father, sitting in the dark living room without his glasses on, staring at the Christmas tree lights because they were fuzzy, orbs of color; and then him inviting me, his thirteen year old son to take my glasses off so that I also might participate in his seeing. These referents register with me. And I often find that a painting may begin there with a slight connotation, with little idea of how the final work will evolve.

Recently, I have been interested in those parts of my studio practice that appear along the periphery, along the outer edge of my work space. These are studies that are not front and center, but are a by–product of using that room. Among these include arrangements of color, a table of found objects, collages made from painting stencils and an assortment of photographs, all of which co–exist alongside regular, four–sided canvases. The works in this show are seldom seen in public; but they are items that I look at and touch every day, they are the accumulations that enter my field of vision. The exhibition at the LUX Center is as much a curatorial project as a presentation of new paintings. In a rather direct manner, I am using this show as an opportunity to look for correspondences between moments of play and concentration that have manifested through these different series. I can’t say that any of the work is successful or that connections exist between them. What I do know is that in a very selfish manner, it is a gift to myself to study color; and if there is one unifying element for this exhibition, it must be that study.

Review in the Lincoln Journal Star