Over the years, I have produced every kind of art imaginable. When Magic Mountain wanted a steel pole to look like a palm tree, I was there. When The Borgata Casino in Atlantic City wanted a dozen paintings to look like ancient frescoes, they called me.

In 1991, when the Reverend Gene Scott wanted to restore the original United Artist Theatre building in downtown LA and make every plaster wall in the place look just like marble, I got the job.

All told, I faux finished about five thousand square feet of walls from the bathrooms to the balconies. Sounds a little tedious, no? Yes. So, to break the monotony and in an effort to keep my sanity, I started hiding objects within the veins of marble. If you looked real hard, you could find beaches with palm trees, maps of the world, airplanes, sail boats and lots of other things but especially nudes. And, to make matters even more interesting, the building to this day is a church - The University Cathedral.

One morning as I entered the building to begin another day of painting, I saw a crowd gathered around a panel where I had worked a nude reclining woman into the veins. Amazingly, when these folks found her, they loved it. And as an artist himself, Dr. Scott, who was particularly fond of the nudes, thought I was a genius. Not just because of the obvious fascination of the crowd, but because of the beauty that the combination of curvy femininity and cold stone created, I decide then and there to do some full-blown paintings. When the first one was finished, the overall effect was simply breathtaking.

During the process of creation there's a kind of magic that happens when a portion of the central object begins to emerge from within the depth of stone. It's almost as though a natural phenomenon is taking place before my eyes. And it's a dangerous process. Many a painting has been lost when things don't go just right. But when the work is successful, the painting takes on a jewel-like appearance and a mystical quality that, so far, I've been unable to define.

Early one Saturday morning, I had a gentleman call me from a gallery that had my work hanging in the front window. He wanted to tell me a story. A year or so ago, he said, his mother had moved out of her long-time residence. On moving day, he'd found her crying, sitting on the steps of her old home. She told him that she was mourning the loss of a beautiful mural that was being left behind. He thought she was being silly and gently told her so. She replied that someday, if ever he had to leave a work of art he loved, he'd understand. He called me to say that he now thought, after seeing my work, he could understand what she'd meant.

It's my hope that you enjoy the work as much as I have enjoyed creating it.