My father was born in 1913, a first generation Italian-American who came of age in New York during the Great Depression. He never finished high-school. He was hardworking, street-smart, charming with the ladies, and spoke fluent Yiddish. He worked in construction and become a General Contractor, managing large corporate projects for Johnson & Johnson. In the basement of our house in New Jersey, my father kept a workshop full of tools. It was rarely used, but in perfect order, with each metal sheet cutter or wrench wrapped in oil cloth. It was his place to imagine projects, to create and to fix.

In January of 2005, he passed away at the age of 92. A few months later, I moved from San Francisco to Kansas City Missouri. It was a decisive end to my earlier art career and the beginning of a career as a corporate creative director. Each time I moved cross country, my father’s tools, still in their 80’s packing, moved with me.

Fast forward to now… I am living in Los Angeles and am making art again. While I haven’t fundamentally changed, my approach has evolved. Years of creating brand imagery has left me with a renewed love of the tactile and for sculpture, which was actually my major at Rhode Island School of Design.

The new work is in some ways a continuation of old values and interests, but it is more physical. This work is about building, and its construction is part of its meaning, and this need to build has brought me to finally unwrapping and using some of my father’s tools.

Thanks for reading.