Portfolio > LANDSCAPES

You Say Doom, and We Don't Believe You.
watercolor and ink
24"x36"
2015
Don't think I'll Camp Here Anymore.
watercolor and ink
24x36"
2015
I Need a Damn Beach
watercolor and ink
10" x 14"
2015
Catapult.
watercolor and ink.
22"x32"
2013
The Nature of Redemption is not Strange...
watercolor and ink
22x30"
2013
A Place for Mama
watercolor and ink
22"x34"
2013
KNOWING THIS FIRST..
watercolor and colored pencil
10.5" x 30"
2011
WHERE THE HEART LIVES
watercolor and ink
14"x18"
2011
(part of the bulls and cliffs series)
watercolor and colored pencil
14"x18"
2011
BULL ULTIMATE
watercolor and ink
24"x32"
2011
WHOM YE WILL SERVE
watercolor and ink
24"x32"
2011
SEPARATE PEACE
watercolor and ink
9"x12"
2011
CAN'T GET THERE FROM HERE
watercolor and ink
24"x32"
2011
BURIED
watercolor and ink
9"x12"
2010
GONE AGAIN
watercolor and ink
24"x32"
2010
GONE
watercolor and ink
24"x32"
2011
THANK GOD
ink
9"x12"
2009
FLY AWAY HOME
ink
9"x12"
2009
DESERT SOLITUDE
watercolor and ink
24"x36"
 GOTTA GET YOUR MAMA IN THERE BY FALL
watercolor and ink
9"x12"
2010
SLOW BURN
ink
9"x12"
2008
GOTTA WORK THAT MACHINE
watercolor and ink
48"x60"
2006
MEETING
watercolor and ink
24"x36"
THE WAIT
watercolor and ink
24"x36"
2006

ARTIST'S STATEMENT

The cultural and religious landscape of my native Mississippi is forever ingrained, and this influence has become an allegorical part of my drawing vision. My quirky style is fueled by an abiding interest in insect-like, gestural lines and packed compositions, and these drawings are a union of formal concerns, memory, and narrative. They depict a private, delirious utopia.

Re-purposed washing machines, homemade roller coasters, fifth-hand rockets, and refurbished mechanical bulls are just some of the items that are the raw creative fodder for the dubious characters who operate within my drawings. These characters are inventing, fencing themselves in, making a go of things, thriving. In my imagination, the folks who live in these worlds are embattled creators, sovereign over their respective dwellings, fervent.

While no people are actually visible, there is evidence of frenzied life in the landscapes. There are projects underway, cryptic systems, and still smoldering fires. The natural settings, gnarled trees, and impossible cliffs are also living parts of these systems: they are manipulated and incorporated, often functioning as barriers that contribute to the isolation of each locale.

The fragments and detritus of human endeavor are not exclusive to rural southern landscapes: they are to be found in every place where people exist. I have personally observed plenty in New York, where I have lived for many years, and in other necks of the woods, too. So while my visual language is inescapably rooted in my personal experience, in my southern roots, the drive to order, to systematize, to invent, and to make sense of the nonsensical, and the scattered evidence of this struggle, seems to me a universal human characteristic.