I was born in the shadow of the bomb.  My earliest memory of making pictures was at about four years old.

My tool was a stick and my 'support' was the dirt in front of our house.  I've been drawing pretty much ever since.  


Among the formative events in my life were the electrocution of Ethyl and Julius Rosenbergduck and cover exercises, the deaths of Marilyn, Martin, JFK, Bobby and Malcolm...and the big one, for me, the war in Vietnam.  


When I was 17 or so I read Sartre's trilogy.  I immediately walked into an army recruiting office and asked about about joining up.  The army eventually sent me to a place called PhuBai, just south of Hué, Republic of Vietnam. (this was a really dumb idea.)


I went to college on the GI Bill..... (smart idea.) I've worked as a fruit picker, graphic artist, furniture mover, architectural drafter, wedding photographer, art gallery owner, college professor, gas station attendant, and picture framer.  Those are  just the most memorable ones.  


Today I live on an acre in a place north of Reno unofficially called Black Springs, just east of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I try to grow food in my garden and I work in my studio while taking time to pick on my guitars, watch Scandinavian and Brit who-dun-its with my wife Imelda, hang out with my dog, take short afternoon naps, pull weeds, and try to figure out solutions to the big questions in life over good coffee with family and friends.

The shadows (and weeds) are as dense as ever.