Creativity is the air that I breathe.

My art is my way of getting ideas out of my head. I don’t have a particular message that I want to convey to the viewer. I don’t expect the viewer to understand, comprehend, nor agree with with my work. I don’t do it to please them nor to satisfy a market. I do it for myself…the reasons are various…mostly as a way of expressing my thoughts/feelings…sometimes it is a self-challenge…to see how far i can go, how far i can push an idea.

My concepts and ideas come from life…life presents to us a myriad of inspirations waiting be used…light, shadow, math, space…time, science, form, shape. How I perceive these elements and how they affect my life is reflected in my art. My work is structured, abstract, complex. It is a contradiction. It is surreal. It is a bricolage of pieces of me, of others, of the world around me, of the world in my head, of a world that doesn’t exist. It speaks to the heart, to the mind, to the soul. It is a revelation, a revolution, a convolution, an evolution…conceptual, curious, vicious, tender. It is despair, fear, hate, hope, love. It screams, it shouts, it whispers, it waits and anticipates…

My art is a reflection of me.