I have always felt a deep compulsion to create and achieve greatness, leading me on a lifelong journey to discover truth and understand the essence of who we are. I believe that this is God’s purpose for all of us from the very beginning.
This drive—whether we call it a compulsion, dream, or hope—reflects an often unrecognized desire to find and connect with God, who provides us with the necessary tools, skills, and wisdom to realize our dreams. This compulsion shapes us into our true selves. There is a well-known saying, "Seek and you will find." Through my search, I have discovered a peace beyond imagination
Yet, this peace inspires an even greater compulsion to delve into the unknown. I constantly challenge myself with the question, “Can I create art beyond my current abilities?” My ultimate goal is to create art that expresses what I cannot articulate. While I often fear that this goal is beyond my reach, I am compelled to continue seeking and striving. I will not stop.

Artist Statement
Artist Statement
Art, for me, is an act of surrender. I don’t begin with a plan—I begin with a feeling, a rhythm, a whisper from the canvas. My work is abstract, or more precisely, non-representational. It’s born from intuition and imagination, not from sketches or formulas. Each piece unfolds in real time, revealing itself through texture, movement, and surprise.
I paint with palette knives and wedges, not brushes. I prefer the unpredictability, the rawness, the way paint layers itself like memory or music. Texture is essential. It’s how I speak without words. I never know what I’ll create until it’s done—and even then, it may mean something different to every viewer.
My creative process mirrors my experience as a saxophonist in a progressive jazz band. There were no scores, no rehearsed solos—just listening, responding, improvising. The lead passed from one musician to another, like a current. That same energy pulses through my painting. It’s jazz in color. I call it intuitive manipulation. Like music, a painting finds it's own key that guides the continuity of the content. I simply add the melody within that key. If I hear (see) an off key note, I correct it.
Spirituality also shapes my work. Having spent years in ministry, I’ve come to see the abstract and the spiritual as kindred forces. Both dwell in the unseen. Both ask us to release control and trust what we feel. Abstract art invites us to explore beyond the literal—to find meaning in mystery, to see landscapes where none exist, to hear music in silence.
My art doesn’t tell you what to see. It asks you to look.

Member of SOPA: Society of Professional Artists