IlluXCon is always a wild, wonderful week—equal parts exhaustion and exhilaration. Held at the GoggleWorks in Reading, it fills three floors with some of the best Imaginative Realism artists working today, and I’m always grateful to be part of that creative storm. 2025 was no exception.
Ever wonder why some images hold your attention while others fall flat? In this post, I share the compositional secrets that make an image unboring—and why our subconscious responds so powerfully to them.
The Manor Mill Gallery in Monkton, MD (say that fast three times!) was the perfect venue for From the Forest. Nestled in Maryland’s rolling hills, the Mill is surrounded by woodland and hiking trails—an ideal setting for a forest-themed show.
Some of my sigil tiles sprouted wings—so naturally, the paintings had to follow. In this post, I share how clay sketches began transforming into small oil paintings, carrying the Eye of Providence and other symbols into dreamlike new forms.
Winter is the third panel in the Seasons series for my friends, a lovely couple who now live in Arkansas. We met several years ago at an art conference and they were there as avid fans of imaginative realist art. They found my work and subsequently invited us to visit them. Sometime after that, they commissioned this series.
I’ve been having a lot of fun with the sigil series lately. I especially enjoy making them in rhythm with the seasons—letting each one echo the mood of the turning year.
Lughnasadh is a time of harvest, of gathering what’s grown, and of giving thanks for all that has carried us this far.
Why do I sculpt so many eyes into my work? It’s a question I get asked a lot—sometimes nervously. The answer has more to do with protection, presence, and ancient symbolism than you might expect...
Scheduled for August 23rd, the exhibition, “Out of the Forest” will be held at Manor Mill Gallery in Monkton, MD. Some works in progress here.
When I made this piece, I started thinking differently about legacy. It’s not just about me lasting. It’s about us. I want humanity to survive this perilous moment we’re living through. I want us to make it to the other side of whatever this is….
The Sigils are evolving a bit into something intriguing and new. I’m planning on offering a set to mark the eight seasons of the year’s Wheel. Litha, or Midsummer, is coming up on June 21st, representing the vibrant season of light, zenith, celebration, and radiance.
I’d never made a yarn bowl before so when a fan of my work asked me to make her some, I was intrigued with the challenge.
Asimov’s I, Robot stories; the idea of positronic brains, the laws of robotics, etc., fascinated me. I loved the mix of complex ancient civilizations, philosophy, and science fiction. His writing made the potential exploration of worlds by future beings seem so vast and interesting.
How is it possible to feel a “continuity of self” when all the cells in my body— with the exception of the lens of my eye— have regenerated more than once? I’m certain that I’ll still feel continuity of self when I’m 75.
What has become pretty clear to me is this: Artists who use their work or others’ work to train an AI to spit out images for them to paint are completely missing the real value of what they potentially could get from working with an AI assistant.
The gallery, Manor Mill in Monkton, MD, has invited me to participate in their group invitational show, “Out of the Forest” this August.
Some time ago, my friend, Marian, asked me to make a sigil tile for her. What the heck was that? I thought. A sigil, or “seal” is a magical symbol of a desired outcome based on a word.
Lately, I’ve been adding videos of my sculpting process on my YouTube channel. I uploaded this one in February after firing a huge batch of mugs.
I’ll be attempting to provide you with shorter blog posts more frequently— once or twice a week — to fill you in on what’s happening in my studio.
Recently, I downloaded the ChatGPT app to see what all the fuss was about and I was pleasantly surprised at how immediately the AI made itself useful…
Recently, I sold this little piece and was quite happy to hear that the buyer was someone who was familiar with my ceramics (they have a handful of monsterpots) but was totally unfamiliar with my drawings and paintings…
Summer is the second panel in the Seasons series for my friends, a lovely couple who now live in Arkansas. We met several years ago at an art conference and they were there as avid fans of imaginative realist art. They found my work and subsequently invited us to visit them. Sometime after that, they commissioned this series.
Can we separate the artist from their output? Can we value the genius of an artist’s ouvre if the artist is a jerk? Conversely, if the artist is a genuinely stellar human being but their work is sort of meh, will their art be as memorable and legacy-worthy? I think this question merits real analysis because I think it sheds a lot of light on how art is consumed by the public. It’s always said that people don’t buy art, they’re buying the artist. But why?
One of the challenges I faced while making ceramics over the past several years is how to re-create something as it was the first time. Someone will say— “Oooh, I love that!” and want the same thing. This is where molds and stamps come in handy….
When I was a kid, I was more than slightly obsessed with little boxes of any sort. Then, I didn’t know for certain why. Perhaps because they held my most important treasures and keepsakes; I stashed….
My oak easel, bought back in the early 90s when I was just starting out as an illustrator, while sturdy, was really only meant for lightweight canvas duty or for smaller boards. So, when I started working on heavier panels, I had a problem with the tray slipping…
Making the award sculptures for ConGlomeration’s Art Show was a fantastic time. Being given carte blanche meant I could just have a blast imagining anything at all…
Having had the span of a 13 year hiatus gave me the critical distance to finally understand this piece which has real importance to me as an artist and is significant to my life as a human.
In 2022, I wrote about beginning to make my own pottery glazes from raw materials. Commercial bottled glazes were convenient, but expensive, and I had an itch to develop something more personal. Over five years of experimentation, I’ve come to understand the qualities I’m after…