So yeah, about me now
I live in Oregon, Wi, about five miles away from where I grew up. Making art, whether acrylic paintings, charcoal, pencil drawings, painted miniatures, is one of my loves.... but I do other stuff too. I work in education, because teaching kids is awesome and dealing with other adults is tedious. I love the outdoors and sneak off to the northwoods whenever humanly possible. I am married to an amazing accomplished wife and have three kids, all boys, God help me.
Me, back when I was nice
I grew up in Brooklyn, Wisconsin. Back then, it was like 500 people and a bunch of cows. Now it's like 1,600 people and a few less cows, but still pretty beefy. Anyways, back in those days, I was more or less normal, I think. I liked to draw, I liked cartoons, I loved fishing, and hanging out with my friends, either watching movies or improving the monstrous forts we built in the woods outside of town. I did actually want to be an artist back then, but like a lot of people, abandoned it for 'more respectable' pursuits as I grew up.
Ammunition
I enlisted in the Army in the Summer of 2001 for the extremely patriotic reasons of college money, security clearance, and the opportunity to learn a foreign language. I had notions of being in the CIA if I decided that my primary plan of going to law school proved too dull. I, of course, did not know that half way through basic training 19 members of Al-Qaeda would launch attacks on New York City and the Pentagon, changing my life's path.
Having enlisted as a soldier led me to a year of combat operations in Iraq. Wanting a security clearance and foreign language led me to learning Arabic and becoming an intelligence collector and analyst. This path took me through 16 years of counter-insurgency, counter-terrorism, regime change, and special operations. What was supposed to be a side-quest turned into the primary mission and what I've diluted to a few sentences is actually a mural, patterned in struggle, highlighted in victories and lives saved, and shadowed in the loss of friends and comrades, and 'enemies' killed, who I never forgot were people too. This life provided me with great purpose, but also cost me humanity. Killing is unnatural, no matter your cause, and its price is steep.
Recovery
Coming back is not easy. Memories of failures, even memories of success, can keep sleep away and make days unfocused and restless. Making art is the best means I have found of dealing with the pain. Sometimes it brings peace to feelings of rage, sometimes it brings hope in feelings of despair, and sometimes it just helps release those negative thoughts so they don't weigh me down, at least for a little while. Sometimes, it just provides escape. And once and a while, I think it provides actual healing. The benefits are myriad, but always positive, and the more art I sell, the more time I can afford to spend making it. So here I am, making art for anyone who wants it!
