I live in a remote farmhouse on land that is being reclaimed by nature.  The few remaining dairy farms in the area are rapidly being encroached by the growing forest. A few miles away, in the small town that holds our post office, there are the remains of factories so long out of use, it doesn’t occur to most people that they had ever been factories at all. Remaining from better times are a bank, a small grocery store, the post office, a barbershop and a coffee shop housed in the former hardware store. Just outside of town, a new restaurant, country store (think local Cracker barrel), and gas station cater to the interstate highway exit. No red lights.

This contrasts starkly with my native Amsterdam and Tokyo, Japan the last places I have lived. Now I long for a life with access to a wide variety of art, music, food and people; one that is full and vibrant.  Living in a place of solitude where civilization seems to be losing its battle with nature has forced me to to explore my personal experience with Place. My work can be regarded as a traditional presentation of coarse and challenging rural life, beautiful in all it’s ugliness with run-down barns and dilapidated houses, framed by nature’s vibrant onslaught. At the same time, it is a very personal presentation of the duality in truth. I seek to share opposing and conflicting emotions in my subjects, finding excitement in the mundane, goodness in neglect, consolation in sadness, and beauty in decay.  

These themes mirror my life experience over the past decade of finding growth in what is maddening, safety in embracing risk and celebrating diversity in the face of ignorance. It is my evolving understanding of these truths that underpin and drive my current work.