My current style began in 2004 with simple doodles that slowly grew into tribal-inspired animal drawings. At first, they were mostly something I did for fun—raw sketches made in spare moments between sci-fi blueprints, superheroes, aliens, and whatever else had captured my imagination at the time. I enjoyed them, but I didn’t yet see them as a serious art form. Over the next couple of years, though, something started to shift. The drawings became less about making a flat tribal or geometric image and more about trying to capture a living moment in an animal’s life. That realization changed the direction of my work and became the beginning of my artistic journey as I understand it now.

2006 became my most prolific artistic year and one of the most developmentally important years I’ve had. It started with a higher focus on the geometric aspects of a subjects physiology, then grew more stylized. I then realized that geometry and movement were not at odds with each other, but often complemented each other. I began using a mixture of the movements of a scene along with the geometry of the subjets and this gave a sense of soul or purpose to the “skeleton” of the creature. My Flamingo picture first captured stylized geometry with a touch of its presence in a special place and my scorpion has all the feeling of striking. The year ended with a spider suspended from a sticky web.

Life started to pull me in a lot of directions during these years. Work, friendships, marriage, and the responsibilities of adulthood all began taking up more of the space that art had once filled so naturally. I wasn’t producing as much, and in some ways I think I lost the steady rhythm I had found in 2006. But the work didn’t disappear. It was still there, moving more quietly in the background. The three pieces I completed during this period show that even when I wasn’t fully focused on the craft, the style was still developing. I began adding more subtle detail, allowing the movement to become more fluid, and refining the balance between structure and life. The Nautilus especially stands out to me from this season because it shows a cleaner, more mature direction beginning to take shape. Looking back, I see these years less as a pause and more as a slower chapter in the journey—a time when life was changing, but the artistic language I had started building was still finding its way forward.

The work from 2017 to 2019 grew out of a more personal place. Instead of drawing only from documentaries, imagination, or outside references, I began working more directly from my own photography and trying to translate those images into my artistic language. That changed the process for me. The subjects were no longer just animals, plants, or scenes that interested me from a distance—they were moments I had noticed, framed, and carried with me first. Because of that, the artwork felt more connected to my own experience of the natural world. This period also became one of my most experimental seasons. I started trying new textures, more varied line work, and finer details, looking for ways to bring more depth and presence into the pieces without losing the clean geometric structure that defined my style. Some attempts worked better than others, but each one taught me something. The sunflower and goats stand out from this chapter because they show a more mature direction beginning to emerge. There is more confidence in the lines, more attention to the character of the subject, and a stronger sense that the piece is trying to hold a real moment rather than simply describe an image. Looking back, I see these years as an important bridge in the journey—a time when the work became more personal, more experimental, and more clearly pointed toward the artist I was still becoming.