My real biography is strewn throughout the pages of this website. If interested, you can glean the truth of my life from the assembled tiles, the amassed broken bits piled behind the paintings as artist’s statements.

But the biography that seems to interest those who peruse such sites is something more formal and tangible than the random stories that float through the painter’s head, the memories that impact every brush stroke. This is the best I can do:

I was born in a suburb of Buffalo, New York. Tonawanda is to Buffalo as Purgatory is to Hell. I think that was the answer to a question on my SAT or PSAT or MCAT, LSAT, whatever. It was so long ago. I forget. I am a product of a white, suburban environment. My taint is that I was raised by Nazis. Wolves would be more colorful and organic. Being ghetto-bred has cache. Even growing up among the fabulously wealthy would have left me with a drug problem and an interesting sense of superiority. Sadly, I am but the spawn of blue-collar, sausage-eating, thick-necked, brick-laying, concrete-loving, shiny, disinfected, orderly, suburban bigots.

My mother – now deceased – was a knife-wielding, red-eyed, large-breasted hausfrau. My father – now equally dead – was sometimes humorous, occasionally charming, rarely engaged.

I have a sister I adore and a brother I abhor.

In addition to the U.S., I have lived in Sweden and India and have traveled Europe pretty extensively. But, in truth, I would rather sit on the beach in Hawaii.

I am a graduate of Cornell University (I like to think of that as my “Ivy League" phase), where I studied animal husbandry (I like to think of that as my “bestiality" phase). I also received a degree in Photography from the Rochester Institute of Technology and did my MBA work at National University – a place of education-free learning. I also did MFA work at Cal State Los Angeles – a place not worthy of comment.

I spent the biggest part of my adult working life as an actor, stand-up comedian and writer. Now, I work for the bus company in Los Angeles. It isn’t exciting, but I no longer run to the mailbox or message machine to see if I am still alive.

I began my art career as a mosaicist. I have only one piece still in my possession.

I learned how to paint at Mission Renaissance School of Fine Arts in Pasadena.

As you can see from the photos, I am ungodly handsome. I am also neurotic as hell, a relentless leftist, and losing my hair.