I make collage. I paint. I am many things at once. I search. I retreat. I am chronically unstable. My work dissects and records a life spent creating a self that refuses to make up its mind.

In Buddhism, a warning persists: don't put another head atop your own. After cancer, I wore the head of a victim and the victim mentality is the nursery, school, and pulpit of the narcissist. 

My process treats the world as an object, found by a pilgrim on his quest back home. These keepsakes from the real are set layer by layer into an accreted collage of elemental memory. I have come to understand through miles spent on this road that our inner odysseys are but a cut of something terribly greater.