a printmaker and musician based in Philadelphia. He works mainly in etching and serigraphy, pulling inspiration from absurdist literature, mythology, and modern culture. The Sisyphean nature of the printmaking process mirrors the underlying message of his work.  

A printmaker toils endlessly over the same processes to heed similar results, with pleasure. One must imagine Sisyphus happy. 

Copper will always be copper. Unless it’s something else. A blank slate. A work of art. A world can live inside it. You can scrape away the old world to welcome the new, but the scars will always remain. They can be revealed with a little bit of ink.   

Each thing you see lives in the wake of all the things that came before it. It is both just like everything else and completely unique only because it exists as its own entity. 

There is always something underneath. The body does not know good or bad. It knows some things very well.  You exist underneath. Internally, tucked neatly into a skull. You can spend a lot of time there. You can get lost in there. People often do. Walking around, fuzzy headed, looking at everyone else. Not quite sure what they see. You can never quite be sure of what they see. You can never quite be sure of anything.  

You are seen constantly, willingly or unwillingly. A sea of eyes staring from behind sunglasses and recording to a CCTV cataloging you by date and time. There is a piece of you distributed into the grey matter of every brain you meet. Sometimes, that is a good thing. There is a lot to do. A lot to avoid. And a lot to fear. It is easier to fear a monster than a man. It could be easier to be a monster. But it would be lonely. Then again, you can feel alone in the middle of a crowded room. 

 Everything is right in front of you. Each day you wake up it’s all still there, until one day it’s gone. Anything you may want to see or not see pictured on a blue screen shining back at you is there.  You see yourself in stories you read. The movies you watch. The music you listen to. Sometimes, the villains are more enticing than the heroes. Maybe you even see yourself in them. 

Does it scare you? To look upon horror and see your own reflection? 

It can be loud to live here. There is always everything all the time. Right there outside your door. It waits for you out there and each time you don’t know why. You didn’t expect it to get this far. After all, it was almost over. There is war outside the door. Even if it is far away, it waits. It seeps blood and oil deep into the soil and if they wait long enough, they could sell it at gas stations too. You can find violence easily, if you choose to look. You can find joy easily, if you choose to look. There are a lot of choices. They are not mutually exclusive. They are all happening together all the time. You are reading this because of everything else you ever did, in some way or another. It gets loud a lot here.