I use layers of chicken scratch cross-hatching over watercolor to make formal almost static compositions, evoking the oppressive itchiness of a strait jacket. I combine iconic and absurd images pulled and mashed together from different periods and sides of the tracks to create ironic and satirical compositions; to explain as much as I can the paranoia, fear, pain, loneliness, dizziness, humor and outrage that is the televised, bought, sold, marketed, homogenized, prepackaged, and prefab 12 car pile up that is the American culture at large. A sensation not unlike being an ant, under God’s magnifying glass, waiting to get burned. With the increase of media, and genres, the lines between commercial art and “fine†art are becoming blurred and almost negligible. The only real difference being the audience of acceptance. The true validation being intent, as long as you always make the choices and decisions in your work. Besides it’s not selling out it’s buying in. Right?
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