I guessed correctly, many years ago, that art was more about how you proceed with things than what you end up with.  And yes, to end up with something is part of it.  My years of training as an athlete; to be specific and accurate, eventually and ironically, ended up setting me free to cast off some of those rules when I retired from the sport and began an interest in art. I did understand the need to have a sense of grace and creative inventiveness as an athlete, but there was not much encouragement to do so from the sport as a whole. I was a diver for the US in the 1972 Olympic games.  I was superb at the control of style and grace while wrestling with gravity and the judges.  

Switching to the arts let me do two things; end up with something concrete while bringing in the slow folding in of one’s personal life into the way of creating. As much as leaving sports was freeing, it also has been rudimentary in informing my art. Much of it, I would guess, is about the feeling one gets inside of physical movement; watching the world whiz by in the middle of doing a triple twisting one-and-a-half.   

Art is exchange, while feeding off of the learning process of how to inch your way forward as a learning observant person.

I realize my art is a bit simple and not really meant to be uptown, or downtown. But it’s nice to have some kind of acknowledgment.  It’s hand to paper dipped in paint or a puddle of watercolor.  It’s about a lifting sense of movement, occasionally humorous, sometimes thoughtful and more often a simple reaction to what is right there up front.  

Basic human touch gets more important in this ambiguous world of execution experts.   

Simple is not easy.

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