I grew up where the ocean is cold, rough, and the skies are often cloudy. The coast is mysterious and majestic; in my opinion one of the most beautiful places on the planet. My hometown was a modest blue-collar place full of loggers and fishermen located on the Southern Oregon coast.

On my tenth birthday my parents gave me my first bodyboard and also a life jacket (?). They resisted buying me a wetsuit because they thought that surfing was phase that I would grow out of. By the age of thirteen my parents started letting me head to the beach with my friends. We were first generation Southern Oregon breed surfers, embracing the little exposure we had to the 80's, neon t-shirt surfing culture.

The place where we ventured into the ocean was not a typical surfing spot. It was often a murky windblown shore break with waves coming from three directions. Surfing there was more akin to riding an angry bull, or maybe a pissed off goat (the waves we were riding weren't that big). We spent every possible minute we could at that beach challenging this mutant wave.

Out of these experiences my story was born. It isn't extraordinary; there are no tales of riding sixty-foot waves or discovery of world-class surf spots. The importance of sharing my story lies in my early excitement for my friends, surfing and the ocean. These elemental experiences I had in my youth are what motivate my artwork today. Child like discovery, beauty, and reverent joy of creation are abundant themes through out my paintings. Surfing was a part of the catalyst for these life qualities I commonly portray through visual art.