Throughout the 1990's I continued working in this vein (much of which was exhibited as The Undertow Series), even as painting grew to be the main focus of my work. And while painting seems to be what I really want to do these days, there is still a need to channel these images and emotions--things that are just on the tip of my tongue, so to speak--into art.
What are these pieces about? Good question. When I was in college, I was talking to a very wise professor of mine and telling him about all the art I wanted to make. I was rambling on, telling him I wanted to do political work, stuff that was about this and that and so on, and he stopped me and said, "Well if you know what you want to say, then why don't you just make a sign that says that?" That one sentence has probably had more of an impact on me than anything anyone else has ever said to me (thanks, Van McElwee).
From that moment on, I have tried to make art that is about everything I can't put in to words, everything I can't "just make a sign" about. And if I can put it into words, I do--these pieces are chock full of words and phrases, much of which deteriorates or stumbles into a frustrating rhythm as the eye follows its path. The imagery is often less arbitrary than in my paintings, and a good deal of it is reactionary and personal in nature. For example, the image in Hatred and Forgiveness is a high school yearbook photograph of a bigoted/sexist teacher I had in 10th grade who humiliated me and made me cry in front of a class one day. (He was also a Southern Baptist preacher, therefore the "religious comics" with imagery in this piece.) Another easily-explained image in this series is from Now Here's Some Love For the Unlovable; the stark imagery of the boar's head and pistol comes from a snapshot I found in my father's photo albums. I was amazed to find that my father had very few photos of anything other than young men with guns or recently slaughtered animals in his albums. For some reason, this filled me with love. Go figure.