Yesterday I could not write.
I could not think or see,
nor could my mind find
a soft place to rest.

Yesterday I could not be loved
for I had none to give.
I could not hold my head high
or sing with a smile.

Yesterday I was sad just thinking of you.

A poem about, you guessed it…..yesterday and the beautiful thing about yesterday is it isn’t today.

Much love and light.
“A life in progress”


Tis the season…

There was a time when being a painter was just a dream. The dream of a young man hoping to someday garner the attention of his father. A man whom the young boy so desprately wanted to impress and be worthy of his time…..That was a long time ago and that boy grew I showed and painted in my twenties, sold, laughed, danced and howled at the moon with the others artist of the day. Then came life….I lived a great life, I’ve had the luxury of travel and a good career. Ive known the love of a woman, how to be a good father and how to be. Ive learned from the struggle of losing everything to Parkinson’s Disease. Now tis the season of thanks again and i find myself in a new place, a new place of love and change.A place of things forgotten and not yet learned. Im in a place of thanks and appreciation for all the things i have in my life.
“Walking home ”

As always, I hope the world has been kind to you and you to it. For if not us then who?

Cheers and Happy Holidays, such a trip that Christmas is almost here again.
Much love,
“A life in progress “


This morning……

The soft light of the day gently woke me from my slumber as the winds whispered your name.
I thought of your caring touch and warm heart. The way you and only you had the way to chase the demons away. Years of fever and pain..

I was gone for along time…. I’m sorry, I was trying to learn to be strong enough to bear the burden of this world.
I felt you in the wind this morning……. Encouraging me not to give up and I listened.. Thank you…..
Thank you for going to a place where I can always find you…
A soft light of the day gently woke me from my slumber and I thought of you.

Ode to my Grandmothers;
I may not be the man I thought I’d be but I’m not the man I’m going to be either. I was raised by 3 sets of grandparents and a few aunts and uncles. I do have a mom left who has become a much welcomed friend but I owe my life to my elders. Today I’m thankful to breathe, wake each day and have the ability to walk, remember my name or even what day it is.
I hope wherever you are and what ever happens to you that you take the time to heal your broken heart,body and mind.

“A life in progress.”


Silver and gold
2015 digitally enhanced imagine.

Emotional Perception ~ Completed

Emotional Perception
24″ x 36″
mixed media on Birch panel.
300 usd
Below youll find a close up view from a number of angles and areas of the piece.

This piece of work is mostly painted using a standard 2″ trowel style palette knife and painters rag. Hundreds of micro layers combined with a final finish of brush work give this piece its depth and clarity.

Emotional Perception:

“That makes me feel______.”means many things to many people.  
2015~Rural house studio.
“A life in progress”


3 days in hell..

Her demons came out to play
they feasted on my eyes and
ripped out my heart, sliced
my tounge in two.
for three days i watched her
demons boil until they spilled
into the night like fire, consuming
her and everything she touched.
such sadness and rage filled her eyes
a desperation for an end to the pain.

Now she sleeps, heals and we start the
process over again…..I wait, lick my wounds
and wonder why i stay.. Is it penance for my
deeds of the past?
or perhaps god himself testing my heart and soul.
either way i bleed the same, fear and hurt the same.
there is only time in this equation that can fill
these empty wounds yet time seems to be the thing i
have the least of…..
sad….. very sad indeed….theend

** featured painting ( Tempest )

A person very close to me suffers from manic depression. I’d never really known the depth of true depression besides my own, which isn’t clinical just simply it’s depressing being dx with PD. But depression real chemical depression is very very scary to deal with and to have. When you personally have to engage with a person during a manic episode or breakdown it can be a very traumatic experience. I pray for all those in our world with mental and physical disabilities. 



Looking for answers….


Words of truth and sadness
I went looking for my strength today. It took me on a long walk through memories both good and horrific. To places I haven’t seen up close since my childhood. Everything from that time feels lost and forgotten. Dead buried or simply faded away through time.
I found no strength but I was reminded of where I came from.
A poor family that was once full if love until the evil threads of desire and lack of communication took that all away. I grew up on a farm and in the flats. I skipped rock and ran from trains. I was normal, kinda except after the age if eight I was alone, just like I feel now.



New things

Hi, thanks for coming back. I hope the world has been kind to you and yours. Life’s been pretty crazy here as of late. With the medical stuff of last month behind me I’m left to focus on finalizing my divorce and finding a lawyer to help me with my Comast issue. I’m finding that my head is becoming clearer and clearer these days as each “life issue” gets handled. Now if I could just get my Parkinson’s disease to slow its advancement I might get back some form of normal feeling life. I have to say I never in a million years would have imagined that my life would have been so turned upside down after being diagnosed. Statistically 85% of marriages that start proir to diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease fail after being diagnosed. I guess we were doomed anyhow, I don’t know. All I know is life has changed a fucking lot some for the better some for the worse.

Well, enough of that depressing stuff. Slowly I feel I’m starting to actually paint quality work again. Below you’ll see a piece that has been packed around for the last year and I’m finally starting tomorrow work on it again. The piece itself is an emotional abstract , for me it’s my feelings surrounding the process of dealing with emotional conflict while dealing with great life change. “Emotional Perceptions

 “Emotional Perceptions”

24″ x 36″
mixed media
bmpstudio~Rural house

 “Emotional Perceptions” is still a work in progress and with any luck will be this years something red submission. I’ve been spending time with “Vessel (I Am)” my next surrealism piece.

“Vessel ( I Am)”
And I hope to continue to work on this new idea that seems to be growing,

Well my friends It’s been a couple days since I started this post. Today is Sunday,my day with my son so I’ll leave you with this thought. Learning to forgive others while not forgetting to forgive yourself.

Be well,

“a life in progress”


~Words from the Garden~

~Words from the Garden~

Star light star bright the first star I see tonight.
You are the light of this knight, in the day I wander till dinner time comes, then off to the stories and PJs and Dancing sugar plum fairies.
The night however is mine to keep
No trolls or phones to constantly beep. The nights been ours for hours and ours to keep, lullabies, cradle,now off to sleep.
“A life in progress”


11-01-2015 ~ The Silk coffee and Canyons of life.

A gentle patter across roofline as her tender rains began to fall.
A chill has found the air while I slept. It reminds me all the times you told me to stay strong when I’d nothing left to give.
These days as the seasons pass, gentle words pull heart string back further than before in the days of my youth.
Laughter more funny and tears more salty as these line begin to cross my face. So many memories locked inside, each just an echoes of the things that I’ve become and that I have been.
These days I wonder through medicated field of flowers and textures soft as silk as look to find my way. Maybe if I follow the rain instead of my heart then this garden will once again grow.
11-01-15 9:02AM pst


A day spent my way

~A day spent my way~There was a time when I could feel my feet

That place a space where they and the earth did meet

Now these days the hands do shake

Like the earth of old lands did quake

I try to smile and laugh each day

While slowly all my feeling fades away

No sense of smell or pleasure from touch

Can’t even figure out what to have for lunch

Paint gives me peace a sort of release

Till two flights and a landing layover

Keep me at bay

Face slips and slides as my smile fades

A mask of me and things I see

Reflections on a pool of glass 

Cracked, frozen, waiting as I always have.

(Re-write) 2014-2015