Searching for the simplicity in my art was still elusive, however. I experimented with stencil art and became obsessed with this. Living at the time in inner city Sydney, I would walk the streets taking photos of the newest graffiti creations as they appeared, and then quickly disappeared.
An artist by the name of Fukt was an inspiration, and I fantasized about dressing in a black hoodie and going out at 3am with spray cans. I went to a street art workshop, but I never had the guts to get out and make anything (even though I created the stencils) and I couldn’t use spray in our rented house.
After leaving Australia art took a back seat for a time. Digital art became an outlet, as it was portable and mess-free. The studio is the computer. To keep it real, I’d go to life drawing classes every few weeks. Then the virus hit, and we all need to spend more time at home. It was during this time, of introspection and isolation, that I started playing with children’s toys for some old-fashioned nostalgic fun. I built a city, with red row houses and flower gardens, a Gothic insane asylum, Castle-themed resort, and skytrain connecting it all together. Little people populated the city, including some vagrants that lived in the wasteland under the skytrain. It really doesn’t matter how old you are, toys are still fun, and it’s really the little, simple things in life that can bring the greatest joy. That might be the greatest lesson the pandemic has taught us all.