A Time for Burrowing: And Other Like-Minded Scribbles Regarding the Human Condition

I can’t quite express how much it means to me that you’re holding this book. Thank you for taking a moment to step into my world.

For a long time, I’ve wanted to gather my drawings and paintings into a format like this. The push to finally do it came from a simple conversation in a gallery. Much of my two-dimensional work includes handwritten text—sometimes a poem—woven directly into the image. I was told, quite plainly, that most people don’t spend that much time with a single piece, especially in a gallery setting where there’s so much competing for attention.

I hadn’t considered that before, but it rang true.

This book became the answer. Here, you can move at your own pace—pause, revisit, linger. The experience shifts from passing glance to something more personal.

Some of you may know that I spent over five decades playing in bar bands, chasing the usual dreams of fame and fortune. Eventually, my voice gave out and my knees started making decisions of their own. But the need to create never left—and, if I’m being honest, neither did the need to be heard. Visual art, in all its forms, has been my way of staying grounded.

Even back then, there was always a sketchpad nearby. In that sense, a book like this was probably inevitable.