My interest in what my father called "architecture" was instilled early on from as far back as I could remember. My creativity was clearly identifiable as my family watched me design in detail, large snow and blanket forts as a child. My father was the first to acknowledge my talent and presumably associated it with architecture. A frequent trip every so often with my dad to Chicago on errands was also influential. I remember as a child sitting in the front seat with my head tilted looking out the window, curious of the tall buildings. In time I adopted architecture as my profession through unintentional default. It also seemed to be a convenient answer to the question my aunts and uncles would always ask, "What do you want to do when you grow up?" This seemed to make my father proud, since his dream at one time in his life was to become an architect.

As an architect, my sketches are typically done quickly on most vacations. My pencil and sketch book are my human camera. When I feel I need to capture a moment of beauty or memory I am quick to grab my sketch book and take down any thought or creative idea that comes to my mind. My sketches are real to me. They speak of a memory in time. I am now on my third sketch book since 1998, and continue to quickly and simply absorb what ever I feel. My sketches are not suppose to capture detail, but form, feeling, emotion, and memory. They are my personal polaroids of joy, sadness, and beauty. I beleive that through form you can understand calmness, see color, feel happiness, and hear sounds. I thank you all for taking time in enjoying my experiences.