In the very beginning the ancient gods were discussing what they should create to amuse themselves. They created picture tellers to ignite their minds; to draw them into the worlds they had created.
I did not spend years, poverty stricken, studying art. I did not struggle in a small loft.
I have, however, found that frustration is a part of my life. But my response as a picture teller is not to cut off my ear; I do not scream and rage. I talk with my friends and I put paint on a canvas and create their stories in pictures. I read fantasy books, and I put paint on a canvas and create the creatures I read about. I watch movies, and I put paint on canvas in honor of the actors I admire.
Though there were perhaps a dozen years in which I created no pictures, the urge to put paint on canvas never deserted me. I believe the stories simply built up in my mind until, recently, I was unable to contain them and they have begun to bubble out onto canvas again. They can’t be classified, but they can, I hope, be enjoyed.