New Start….New Studio*** Rant

Many of you know about some of the most private details of my life at this point..

Some of you would even say I’ve over shared…
I guess that’s the beauty of what happens here we all have a choice. To come together under a common bond and share the joys and
sorrows of each others lives. Some to comment, some to watch from the shadows and judge. Either way I made a decision when I first started
blog to be open. Many people forget that this site didn’t start as an Art blog but as my personal journal cataloging my life and struggles with coming to
terms with Young Onset Parkinson’s disease. This journey has taken me around the united states and abroad I’m happy to say I’ve shared every step along the ways, the good the bad and the very ugly personal truths of my life that in reality many of us share in common but would never put out there the way I do.

I’ve said it before and Ill stand by it. I’m a man, no different than any other with the slight exception that I paint and write my heart and soul for all to see. I end 99% of my posts with a kind word. And I pose some hard questions and thoughts because I believe that one man and one voice can change the world.
Art and words have lost their meaning and I will not stand for it another second. For if YOU will not Be Brave and Be Bold or Thrive in the life you have….. I will. If given the chance I would take your hand and shout your name from the roof tops to show the world your brilliance and compassion. Live your words or don’t use them at all. At this point I’ve lost all of it. My job, my career my home and my family and Ill be dammed if I’m going to silence my heart and soul now.
I just received word that I’ve been accepted into a local art co-op. 4 floors of prime down town retail, commercial and loft living space. A place that is positioning its self at the edge of creating an new feel a new scene thriving and ready to make Art believable again. Any person can put brush to canvas, lead to paper and glue a stone to a ring. But only a few can create through there passion to express that love, fear and strength through their art. So again I say…to you.
Be Brave, Be Bold and Thrive in the life you have…
No… life is not easy for any of us. But if I can live through the things I’ve seen, done and had happen to me then you can too. I believe in you. I’ve seen your strength, beauty and passion.


That’s all I’ve to say.
“A life in progress”

**It’s our turn…..Let’s show them what we can do.**

**It’s our turn…..Let’s show them what we can do.**

In the cold of the night your words give warmth.
A gentle glow..sparks.. Of passion and love yet
to sew seed but born from a deeper place than I’ve traveled before.
A smile so strong a bridge it has built from heart to
heart and back again. Leaving no brick un bruised in the delight of her name.
By what charge of a poets heart does man claim his place
Amongst the angels.
Given no tenor to call home or a voice to speak of,
a wondering soul rest only where angles fear to tread…….
Such darkness gives way to a tender light
Gentle….. Soft….. Lost herself in a strangers land of newness.
A bold place for such a tender heart to trend.
After such destruction has been given her chase only to fall flat
for she rises like the phoenix.
Giving passion to my life like a teenaged boy in heat.
Such passion drip from that fountain that I yearn to
drink from in this life and no other.
Waiting……… Time passes so slowly as the days wander by
looking for a place to call home.
Kisses warm and wet fall upon counters made of Alice’s looking glass
Ponderous thoughts and days are these…..
Left alone…….in a crowded room… a mirror facing a mirror and myself.
I wonder what painters hand have I to create these thoughts I think in
colors of green and blue, of silken satin leather, lace and you……
For are we all not the muse of someone else’s muse.
Given chase by another
Lovers lover from another place in time and their heart.
Such ponderous thoughts are these….


Tempest~The Heart of an Artist


The Story behind the Art and Artist of Tempest:
Id like to say my life was a fairy tale full of dreams fulfilled, wishes granted
and time well spent. To do so would be far from the truth and a rather boring story.
In Tempest we see the turbulent clouds of dark purple and green both colors hopeful yet full
of a troubled heart and life. Struggling to find my way on this new path that life has chosen for me.
The form of the figure one could say is female in its curves full of soft sweeping motion and a resemblance
of a musical clef. I her shoulder and breast is a figurative form of infinity giving reference to a belief that I have
that all things are one both past and present. Also in reference to our human cycle of life destined to
repeat our pasts until the puzzle is solved.
She holds her head high above the sky yet in a position of sadness as so often I do. Sad for the hurt in this world,
sad for the hurt in my soul. The window shines a soft yet illuminating light and for me is also the window to my heart
and soul. of two minds hoping to give light to those I encounter in this lifetime and the light that shines out of the darkness
that I so often find myself in. One could ask how someone so tormented could always wishes everyone well, joy, love and happiness.
Its simple I don’t ever want anyone to live through see or feel things that I’ve experienced in my life.
The window, of hope in the darkness.
The spheres find their way to the Tempests side as she stands strong in the calm of the dark purple calm.
Circles, we could write a book on the metaphorical meaning of the circle. Matter of fact there is probably
a guy sipping scotch on a beach somewhere who has. For me in this piece the are eternal, life, death alpha and omega.
From one we have the tree of life emerging from the darkness of the shadow. An ever-present reminder that even in
the darkest of times life will find a way to carry on. From the other sphere we have a cord somewhat of an umbilical
to the tempest also representing the twists and turn of this elegant dance of existence we call life.
Please take from this piece what you will it has and never will be my intent to force my will upon the viewer.
Life is hard, mine, yours, his and hers but life is also beautiful full of hidden graces.
The spring breeze scented with flowers that come but once a year.
Summer sunsets so magical people make a living chasing them down to simply capture the moment.
A child’s first breath and the unconditional love of an old friend.
First kisses and last dances these are the things that make weathering the storm worth living.

So it is with these words from my heart to yours I give you and world.
The Tempest.

Tempest ~ My Girl Collection
41.5″ x 48.5′
Mixed media
Inks and Acrylics

Close up 1.

Close up 2.

Close up 3.

Where we started..
As always Be Brave, Be Bold and Thrive in the life you have.

A life in Progress
**Ink sketch done by Picasso

Greetings from a sleepy boy.

I’d like to say I’ve been out and about shaking the art world to its very chore, but I’m not sure it has a singular core any more and I’m pretty sure it would take more than me ¬†writing to you from the comfort of my sleeping couch.
Though today has been a magical day of sorts. I enjoyed the early dawn hours alone outside and alone in my studio. I painted on one whilst preparing to say good bye to another.
My Girl ~ Venus in Blue
Mixed media
*commission gift
Join me in saying good bye.




My Girl~Venus in Blue leaves tomorrow .
She’ll be missed, but I’d rather spread joy than own a piece of my own work.
I was also able to simply spend some time enjoying the studio here are a couple of pics you’d never see unless you were to come over at 1,2,3am.

A little morning music by candle light , always nice.




At this stage with the next My Girl series I’m just doing the color blocking and basic shading. In pieces like this hundreds of hour can be spent doing just shading. Once the lower half get to a good point I’ll start figuring out how I’d like the back ground to fit into the piece. Thankfully in doing so it will give definition and depth to the foreground form. There is still a ton of charcoal shading lines that I’ve not washed off so please excuse the roughness of the edges. Also the introduction of the background will fix the fuzzed line. Well I started my new meds today and I must say they’re pretty strong for me at least, clonozapam. It’s going to take some time to get adjusted to this as it makes me really really sleepy. But on the plus side I’ve only taken 2 of the 6-8 Percocet I usually take a day. Okay well it’s time for dinner around here soon going to disappear for a quick minute.
Much love and light to all.

A life in progress.

I wonder why?

The dawn came calling in the dark of the night
The world still slumbering as I rose to meet you,
But you’d gone.
Left behind the taste of disagreement and scorn.
What words of man fill these pages of black and white.
Dribbles of thought and human emotion cast into a sea of darkness.
One by one they get picked apart, ingested and set free.
Like pigeons on the rooftops we hope they’ll find their way home.

Such a silent dawn it is, so many caught up with the winds
and rain. Letters lost, time out of focus as I struggle to remember the days
Name then wonder why it’s important to begin with, such a paradox this life can be. Waiting for the chems to kick-in a train sounds in the distance carried by a cool breeze, a sound heard by only those lucky or misfortunate to be awake. So many visions crammed into one skull I often wonder why, why me? Why this darkness that haunts the corners of my mind. Oh to be held in the gentle arms of an angel to rest my head and heart for just one more day.

I can hear the city start to wake. The broken and fearful the hungry and lost souls of day scattering their desires on the soundscape. One more day, one more paycheck, one more cheeseburger and then it’s done. Chasing a lucid daydream till the body becomes old and frail. Running from death, born with the awareness we are alive. Is it a gift or a curse and does the fish I ate. Know it’s name, does he go to fishy heaven or miss his frye? I wonder the point of all these things as these words fall from the sky, catching one at a time and finding a place for them to live in this world.
I wonder. I always have,… I wonder why..


There are lots of words tonight: beware

Dawns delight a lasting love affair:

As the sun rises to meet the night one last time before they part
A gentle kiss was slipped
a grasping graze at the nights hand just to say i’ll miss you my love please come see me again, as you always do.
For only he can sing her song of love The night, his love, the light with passions heat her beauty blinds him of all others and her love dries his streets so the busy bee’s can tend to their needs.
He will wait this night in love with the day for his time to come, once again grasp for a touch to fill his heart to ease his pain to call her name so that she will come for him once again. This day, this light, this morning. Spread your light so the green roses grow strong with your love and I will keep the night warm to protect your precious garden. Until we meet again for a glimpse a grasp only passing in the night.


On this darkest day.., Oh hollow man

On this darkest day oh hollow man shed this wanten skin….
Bleed no more for these wanten things
That cause pause to a soldiers heart.

Such fragile breath on angels wings
Bared ones heart to scissored strings.
Never more shall I go into the darkness alone.
Never more shall I throw stones
In glass houses
Never more shall I sing of things to the tune of a def ear and blinded eye.
Silent such voided love and fill this cup with pain and paint.
Fill this vessel oh world of wonder for this knight grows long in the hall of unrequited love..
Born of mystery and misery…. Of healing want in one hand and a lovers whip in another..
Fly…fly away with the birds and the bees.
Flowers and trees for these things have no place in this heart of darkness.
These halls are mine.. And mine alone…
Cursed to wander for a thousand , thousand years…
Alone…me and these words…. Me and this paint that grows…

****apparently it’s time for me to write, as with most people who express themselves through the written word I go through phases. Though I’m clearly a painter and not a writer nor do I really care to be. I’m often told my words are touching, to that I give much thanks. Some of my words come from memories of things I’ve felt and some of them come from they way I’m feeling or feel about a certain thing. But alas they are just the words and feelings of a humble painter.

Much love

Such melancholy metaphorical metaphor:

*** please join me in a experience I’d like to share with you. Would you kindly…. When reading these following words put on your most Shakespearean thinking voice. It is an important part of this journey I’d like to share with you. I will do my best to marry some images that I feel may help evoke or convey the unspoken emotional context as well.

Oh melancholy metaphorical metaphor:
On what heart strings does this muse
play a song I’ve never heard
Yet hold captive such a lions heart.
That, fore which has only fed on the
sight of its hearts desire
and heard only the whispered words
from which lips may have spoken.
They do so haunt every thought
as such brutal silence grows.

Stay this tongue now with sweet arrows of disconnect forever
or take me in your soul forevermore.
Quell this maddening hunger with one soft word
oh muse of muses.

Harken to the silent dawn of ink less quill and sleepless night
as I wait your vacuous embrace,
To pull this lion heart from the depths
of wanten remorse and lipless embrace..
Silence…Oh crickets in the night…., so sing with the frog prince no more….

2014 10:10p.


I reached out to an empty hand……and fell..

If I showed you the heart of the child would you promise not to laugh?
And if I held you in my shaking arms
Would you tremble with me or walk away.
Does the depth of your heart run deeper than this electric light
Or is it shallow like a river run dry
Could it be an ocean or deepest of loch
Warmed by an evening breeze
Gentle to the skin and kind of heart
Does it require all that I am or can it stand against
these turbulent waves that crash against the shores of my mind.
Deep and rooted like trees of the gods.
Entangled in emotions deeper than hell itself.
Fear not of the child’s heart that weeps at the sound of bird song
Or the smell of roses
for a soldiers armor guards this heart with with sharpened tongue
And words that sting.
Lay by my side or walk with me in the night and you shall have but a piece of this guarded heart to hold and call your own forever and a day. For I would give it all away I am nothing yet have always been
full and empty, craving yet lack nothing. Neither angel or demon nor child and man,
Forever more…

**original written 2013


The dawn waits for no man, neither does Parkinson’s disease

**This is not poetic, nor happy it’s also not a cry for help. It simply just is.

I’ve come to hate mornings
They leave me broken and tired
Recovering from my dance with the
There was a time when the dawn called my name
with a glorious song and colors flooded my world.
Now I find only pain and the relentless crush of this disease.
There are no words I can give you that truly explain the
persistence of Parkinson’s disease. It simply never stops.
Never let’s go. There are times that I want to just be done
be done fighting. Be done taking pills for pain and pills
to replace the chemicals my brain no longer makes.

There was a time when the mornings song was a gift
the predawn stillness, the first birds of the day.
Me and a strong espresso, dreaming of all the
things I’d fill my life with.
Now its a race, a race for the first pills of the day
a race to stay one step ahead of the pain. A race to
learn the tricks of he brain as my cognitive functions change.
as I sit here and write these words out of my head and heart
placing them in space instead of myself, I feel the sadness settle
in. This sadness tells me its time to go, it tells me I’ve
rested to long in this place of thought and self analyzing
deprecation. So I leave you with these thoughts from a
man who has been graced with a life full of adventure
love and heartbreak. Don’t wait for life to give you the
things you want. You must make them happen. You must visualize
yourself in the place you want to be and make it so. For tomorrow
never comes so must seize the day or forever let it slip away.
The Long Road
Acrylics and Ink
2012 Parkinson’s Series