About Me

That’s me on the left. I have no idea who the other bozo is.

Born in sunny Ireland in the Roaring Eighties, I spent much of my youth dodging car bombs and slipping on potato peels. A fortuitous relocation to London at the end of the decade enabled me to reinvent myself as a pathologically anxious kid who liked to read and had exactly one friend. Years of crippling depression would follow, during which I honed the artist’s temperament and craft, particularly as related to words and images. Now I live in dreary Los Angeles and am totally not depressed anymore. Not ever.

Often, my work examines childhood and grapples with the implications of having lived with poor mental health, noting the profound ways in which our subjectivities mold reality, even when it is shared. I am concerned with evil, it’s nature and origin and the ways in which it finds expression in both the little and the large; with justice, or a lack of it, in the overall order; and maybe most of all, with the challenges of finding meaning in a godless universe, and other light-hearted topics such as these. I swear, it’s a laugh a minute bouncing around in my mind…

For professional services and my commercial portfolio, see the links in the above menu. (Although there’s a very good chance I will have written this About Me long before I actually set anything up on that end).

Kason Espinosa

He thought that in the beauty of the world were hid a secret. He thought that the world’s heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world’s pain and its beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower

Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

William Haines

“…to realize that all your life, all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain, it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream you had inside a locked room- a dream about being a person. And like a lot of dreams, there’s a monster at the end of it.”

Rustin Cohle, True Detective

Renesmee Thomas

“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves, as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language,”

Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet



Los Angeles, CA


(646) 284-1775