There are times when I am inspired to draw the likeness of a face. It's fascinating to observe the diversity of facial features in people around me. It is also interesting that under the face our bone structure and our skulls are so similar. We like to claim our idenity with individuality but underneath our skeletons and in our human behavior,we have strong resemblences to each other.When I draw a person I sometimes like to do so undetected with no self consciousness on the model's part. Isn't that when we see who people really are...when they think no one's watching? This incognito approach allows me only a quick glance. Just as it is with first impressions, it is possible to gather a picture of a person after short introductions. The discipline I apply is to afford myself a brief look at my subject and then I depend on photo memory to sketch a quick caricature. On the other hand, a more serious portrait involves commitment and it must be felt. Details of a person on the surface, within the soul and behind the light of the eyes are familiarized with time and great care. Just as it is with making a friend we invest ourselves with some transparency and a measure of love. It's then something beautiful is captured and hopefully a lasting impression as well.

In passing I unwittingly catch myself in a reflection in the glass and in that split second before recognition I view a man with a frown on his face. I quickly put on a more agreeable face and continue on walking. It's the same thing with us that while we're together I'll glance back at you to see you mask a sad expression with a snap on smile. I'm standing in front of someone and though I can place the face I don't recall the name.Before I apologize that I'm bad with names and in doing so quite possibly make the person feel unimportant, I continue in half minded conversation. The other part of me is on speed search through my memory files while I veil my cluelessness with a smile of familiarity. Apart from the obvious social awkwardness I'm also thinking this strange space of limbo has other implications. How many masks and how often do I wear one to spare the hurt feelings of others or more exactly to hide my own..?

From an old photograph I was wearing my once favorite shirt. The look of my face has changed and the shirt long since gone even from the rag bin. I remember but I ain't sentimental. I recall but I ain't nostalgic. There are whole chunks of early childhood I can't place. Maybe if I" draWrite" with my left hand I may get in touch with that kid. I live in my head a lot. Home has no address. There is no old neighborhood. Life has been one very very long street of households and people. This road started as I was growing up and picking up to move on all too often. It did not pay to get close to anyone 'cause I wasn't staying put. A loner yes but I developed a rich internal life that has sustain me even til now. There's a big difference between isolation and solitude. Time alone doesn't bother me, it's essential for what I do, art. Life is transient at best. I hold all things loosely including relationships and I love all of you from a far.

By all means possible I'll drag the beast out of the cave warts and all. It's not a pretty picture this ugliness inside. My howling self destructive voice must be silenced. I will not be mistaken for this evil twin one moment longer. Though the black waves of warfare never seem to subside, I will exorcise tonight's demon accordingly.By the Sword and red ink I'll nail it to scrap paper on which I'll describe it, recognize it, name it, own it and condemn it. I'll set this certificate of death ablaze out where it'll bring no one warmth. Lastly I'll beseech the rain to turn the useless ashes into mud and be done with it...