Past
My past has been characterized by a childhood nurtured in fertile and loving soil. I have always felt supported and when not verbalized, it was clear through the dedication of those around me who saw through to provide me with opportunities. I was wanted and capable in varying disciplines, among them athletics and arts. My energies were focused on athletics in addition to my schooling. My family lived on a canal. In my free time, I relished dragging a net along the sea wall to catch aquatic life. I would keep aquariums and study the gobies, flat-fish, ghost shrimps, and sea horses that I captured. Once I drew, under lamp light, a picture of a model race car, and another if I recall. I thought the drawings clever, and I lost them at some point for which I felt a great loss. I drew a copy of a nude that I saw at a garden social gathering that my mother brought me to. Mom put her hands over my eyes but I’d already got a good look, and replicated the image to my abilities when I got home later on. I drew a team of fictional characters, and a design of a bottlenose dolphin which I became preoccupied with and practiced over and over. I cherished these drawings. They conjured so much for so little, and they were personal. Our house was a corner lot up a canal development along the Caloosahatchee River. It was always filled with animals. I got along well with animals, and studied them- geese, cockatiels, bunnies, dogs, cats, gerbils, hamsters, snakes, iguanas, and water creatures. I went from a private secular pre-kindergarten to a private Christian School, where I wore a uniform and went to chapel twice a day. I sang in the third grade class choir, and developed an identity with getting into minor trouble for distracting other students with antics. Mom drove me to gymnastics practice daily after school, in turns with Mrs. Marchildon who was Patrick’s mom. The drive was two hours long. We’d do our homework along the way wether it was me and Patrick, or adding Cami or Lori, or any other gymnasts making the commute. We developed a routine of eating Taco Bell drive through after gym practice. I competed for five years, consistently placing in the fives or threes- at times on the podium and at times not. I traveled regionally thanks to my dedicated mother to compete. I hardly noticed dad. Dad got into trouble, and thus the family as a whole dealt with issues. I practiced some self-harm in the spirit of transcendence. Our family made a move to Montana, where we could be far away from our past and start anew. I stopped doing gymnastics, and traded my beloved inline skates for a skateboard. I wanted to fit in. I entered into fourth grade at a farm school with a class of eight. We lived on the Yellowstone River, and brought along a dog, Papaya. I remember dad being around a lot more, and the river freezing over. Dad participated in hunting, and tried to get me into it. We’d go on walks on the pretense that if we saw a rabbit or a deer I’d shoot it. I killed a deer in the middle of thanksgiving dinner, in a zombie ritualistic technicality. I was upset. I played little guy football, and soccer. I was grateful to be in Montana in times of nature, and I took a sort of solace, as the narrative coaxes, in the ‘falling off’ of it I all. We raised chickens and I kept the incubator and brood box in my bedroom. Some of the chickens attached to me, in particular a healthy chick named Cleopatra, who grew into a hen we called Helen. After two years, the parents decided to move to Tallahassee, FL and Cami and I knew the drill. In Tallahassee I went to high school and continued in much the same path of balancing sports, academics, and creative pursuits. I was a capable swimmer and as a former gymnast, a natural diver. I became drum line captain after four years in marching band. I went to community college while also participating in musical bands in the town. I took up graffiti writing and worked as a lifeguard and as a restaurant server. I went in and out of college, taking four unfocused years to get an Associates Degree. Toward the end of my time in community college, I took a figure drawing course with Ed Toner, then a color theory course and a watercolor course, and illustration, and screen printing. It was clear to me that I wanted to become an artist. I went to Maine for a summer and took a drawing course with Fred Lynch (not RISD’s), and then stayed in Brooklyn for two months. I transferred to FSU as a fine arts major, but it didn’t feel like a solid foundation, so with much distress I chose to drop out. My uncle and aunt died and left me with two hundred thousand dollars, and that cleared the path for me to pursue art however I wanted. I travelled and attended workshops at SVA. I befriended a filmmaker and helped her with projects. I’d met a family through graffiti and they put me up in Amsterdam for a month, wherefrom I traveled to Berlin and rented an apartment for a month, then through Central Europe for a month, and Iceland rendezvousing with the filmmaker. When I got back to the states I called Shaun Thurston, whom I’d met on a mural-oriented residency trip to Jacksonville. He needed help and I moved to Jacksonville for two years, where I lived and worked in a warehouse making paintings for fine art shows in restaurants. I applied to Ringling College after those two years and got in, and went to study illustration. After a year and a half, I thought to transfer to a school with a greater focus on traditional painting. I learned of PAFA and applied and got in, so after two years of Ringling would come two years of PAFA. I finished my first semester at PAFA.
Present
Presently, I am wondering if I have seasonal depression. I’ve eaten two bowls of cheerios, and have been drinking a lot of coffee. In my freedom allotted by winter break, I have opened up many book projects. I care deeply about learning. So much of my life it seems has been focused on doing. I plan to enter into another round of doing in the spring semester, and until then developing and exposing myself to new ideas. I am meditating twice daily. I love to go into the town and meet people- it’s one of my purest joys. I’ve been watching Jordan Peterson videos and have begun to read the Gulag Archipelago, and continuing with Nietzsche studies. In times with little external stimuli, I need to be careful not to become addicted to little does of dopamine affixed to social media pings. I exercise daily.
Future
In the immediate future, I will host Erin Lingard for a few days. I will share with her as best I can Philadelphia. I will attend PAFA’s spring semester, learning and keeping an open mind to new ideas in painting. I will apply for a landscape residency for the summer months, through which I will spend nine weeks in the country outside of Philly making a production of paintings in various sizes and developing styles. The rest of the summer will be spent between workshops, Florida, and Philly, where I’ll find a new apartment that makes better fiscal sense. I’ll attend Fall of 2018 at PAFA, another winter break, then Spring, at which point I will graduate with honors somehow. Upon graduating PAFA, I will finish out my lease in Philly, while searching for next-step opportunities. I will move to France for up to a few weeks to spend time with John in Paris and traveling. I will likely move back with my parents to consolidate paintings, and have some post-baccalaureate thinking time. I will apply to residencies, to somewhere cheap where I can meditate and paint. I’ll make a move to New York City (Crown Heights) and give it a shot- hustling. I’ll foster a terminal dog. After two years, I’ll make a one year study trip to St. Petersburg on a visa for a post-baccalaureate or graduate program. I’ll travel through China and Vietnam, and Japan and South Korea. From there I will get a job, a real one and accrue money and paint for five years. I’ll get a mid-life dog and a cat. I’ll have a small show and sell a quarter of the paintings. I will use the money therefrom to travel to South America for a spell, where I’ll paint pictures in the mountains and a mural in the town. I’ll come back to the states, and move to New York to paint for a year and a half then have a show, in which I will sell ten paintings. I’ll finish a masters program and apply to and accept a teaching position. I’ll buy a house. I hope to live with a partner. I’ll get another dog, and some kittens. I’ll teach and paint for five years, take a semester’s break, and repeat. This far along I will not need to teach or have a job any longer. I’ll trim the school hours in exchange for studio time. I will have a relationship with a gallery and be in a swing. Between school income and painting income, I will plan for retirement and plant a garden and write and paint. I’ll get a borzoi, or a wolfhound and have plenty of land for it to run on, and we’ll go on walks over hills stopping to investigate things at our will. I’ll lay with the dead borzoi for a little bit and think about where I’ve been; about that time I wrote about my future one morning over two bowls of cereal, then I’ll bury the borzoi in the dirt.
