I am a San Franciscan, living in the Sunset by the ocean's
edge, and close to what is known to be the Land’s End. The gaping Egyptian mummies, along with Tom Thumb’s tiny
wardrobe, stand watch against time down the stairs in Adolph Sutro’s museum of oddities.
In the still of
the night a chorus of roaring lions and Howler monkeys blends with the solitary peacock's wail, and mingles with the swelling
tide of barking sea lions and lonely fog horns, and with the braying of Laughing Sal from beyond the pair of grey Dutch sisters
standing as sentinels on the western edge of the city I call home. The peculiar cacophony of sound creates within me an unusual
landscape, and a strangely fascinating desire to gaze upon rare things emerges from deep within.
I walk through
secret doors in order to touch the sublime and while wandering behind the wall of the everyday, I find myself the painter
who creates doors for others to engage.