When I first moved to Tucson in 2000, the desert was entirely new to me - it seemed utterly alien in many ways. I recall describing it as hostile and vampiric at first, but over time learned to appreciate how subtle its’ beauty could be. On my walks through the open land outside of Tucson I began collecting what I thought of as ‘desert driftwood’, the cactus skeletons, skins and remains that littered the floor of the Sonoran desert. I was intrigued by their textures and shapes, seeing an art in them just as they were, appreciating them as raw material. Later, as I began to collect cactus in earnest, I became curious to see what I might be able to coax out of them artistically, they suggested any number of things to me and I began exploring different ideas and themes. I tried to think of what best represented a merging of my heart and intent with all of the material I was collecting.
I feel that by reclaiming and recycling the detritus of the Sonoran desert and approaching it with an idea that it can be beautiful again, that the world needs more beauty in it, that I am able to breath a bit of new life and color into something that may otherwise have gone unnoticed or unappreciated. I feel that I’m learning to not only able to place something new and inspired into the world, but to thread personal values around themes of exploration, redemption, and rebirth as well. I’ve been given second chances in life, and truly appreciated them, I begin each piece of my sculpture with an idea that my work may be asking the viewer to contemplate renewal and gratitude, to offer something pleasant for a weary eye to be surprised by. Each piece is a joy to create and I do my best to portray that emotion with the bones of our unique local flora.