Here are a collection of random works that don't depict any of the characters I've invented or zombies. They were just paintings that needed to be done.

The painting above is a portrait done from a photo of a high school friend, Nathan Healy.
He's no longer with us, so this work has sentimental value to me.

Zombies!

Usually when I paint a portrait it's a zombie. I've always gravitated toward the undead. There's something about unnaturally animated corpses and skeletons that speaks to me as a medium for self expression.

Early Thugs Bunny Paintings

Thugs Bunny was a character I created after my first year at the Corcoran. He became a vent for my frustrations. He showed up regularly in my work. I've tried to incorporate him into a couple of stories that I haven't finished yet. I don't paint him anymore. I do sketch him every now and then, but he's taken a backseat to another character of mine."Swing" 30"x40" Acrylic on Canvas 1993

"Thugs on Steel" 25"x24"acrylic on steel panel 1994
"Thugs Bares his Sole" 14"x18" ink on paper 1993

I was started down the path of becoming an artist from a book about personality traits I found waiting in line at Giant with my mother as a child. It was one of those little books amongst the crossword puzzles and word games. The thing that struck me was it said people who have messy rooms tend to have artistic leanings. I had already started to sketch and doodle before this, and my room was always a mess, so I took what it said to heart. I went to art school because I felt it was the only place I could fit in. I painted because it was the only thing I knew I could do well. I'm not the best by a long-shot, but there are people who enjoy my work.

I've always been fascinated by the undead. As long as I can remember drawing I've drawn skulls. Even before I knew what zombies were I was drawing them with pen and ink after reading "How to Draw the Marvel Way".

I find life confusing and I try to put that in my work. My apathy, my frustration, headaches, fear, manic joys, silent wonders, obsessions,ect. go into my paintings. They don't always go finished, sometimes I'm the only one who knows.



Another day of having the empathy, sympathy and compassion scraped raw from the core of my being leaving nothing but bitterness, apathy and despair.