I'm a frustrated painter trapped in the body of a photographer living in a suburban neighborhood close to LA.

I'm always curious how the photo will look like. The look is an illusion of time mixed up with our expectation of how a photograph should behave.

These images seem to be less about the photograph than they are about the painting process. Every stroke of color or splash of light is me in front of the camera with a flash light, television, strobe or flame dancing to the rhythm of the exposure.

just as a dream forms during sleep, the camera stands quietly as a witness while the painting assembles itself in my mind's eye.

Only in this case the camera witnesses with eye wide open to remember the story as it is seen.