I am proud to say that I was born a fourth generation Montanan in “the shadows of the Mission mountains”, St. Luke’s hospital, Ronan, in 1960.

Over the years I often recall many fond memories of the Big Sky state...  Pioneer Days in Ronan, building hay forts in the loft of my grandparent’s barn, catching trout in the stream that ran through their property east of town, fresh cheese from the Darigold Dairy, hot summer days at the cabin on the lake near Big Arm, picnics at the Bison Range, the Aurora Borealis in the early morning hours, learning to ski at Big Mountain, Christmas at “aunt Pat & uncle Harold’s”, playing football with friends in a foot of snow… the list goes on and on. 

As a child I remember enjoying trips to “the big city”, Christmas shopping at the “Holiday Village” and how at night the lights of that big city – Missoula – seemed to go on indefinitely, winding down through the Bitteroot valley. 

In the mid-seventies my father’s work took our family to Portland, Oregon, which would be my home for my next 16 years.  It was in Portland where I continued my freshman year of high school, developed many wonderful and lasting and – much to the surprise of most of the faculty – graduated from high school with the rest of the class of 1979.

Since moving from Portland my career in broadcasting caused me to take up residence in Los Angeles, California / Dallas, Texas / Boise, Idaho / northern California and now back to the City of Roses, Portland, Oregon.  During this time I’ve had the distinct pleasure of seeing most of this country’s 50 states.  I’ve enjoyed rodeos in Texas, watching a barracuda sun itself in the crystal clear waters off the Florida Keys, eating lobster pie in Maine, football at Lambeau Field in Green Bay, watching orca whales navigate the waters of Puget Sound, being inspired by tribal dancing in Arizona, and felt the energy and subsequent devastation of that ‘other’ big city – New York.

When asked about how I got involved in art, the best answer I can come up with was that I was making too much noise in church so mom handed me a piece of paper and a pencil, gave me a hymnal for an easel then told me to “be quiet and draw”.  So much for a formal education in the arts!

The subjects I enjoy painting are as varied as the locales to which my life has taken me.  It may be a seagull against a clear blue sky, a Native American dancer, a white tail buck sunning himself in the winter snow or my beloved Green Bay Packers.  Each brings to the forefront of my mind an experience I feel honored and blessed to share through my art.