APRIL 27TH 2023

Why am I drawn to old street corners, handmade signage, old buildings, decaying old cars? Since as long as I can remember I would look out of the car window admiring “old things.” I have early memories riding in the car with my mom driving down Foothill Blvd from Fontana to Rancho Cucamonga to go pick up my father from work where he was employed at Schwinn Bicycles. This was in the late 80’s and early 90’s. At the time that road was lined with old grape vines that were willowed and dried out like forgotten old ghosts. Over the years those fields were bought up and soon came rows of track homes and shopping centers. One of the first things I remember was feeling odd and confused why it all looked the same.

A few years later Schwinn went bankrupt and sold to Pacific Cycle. From my understanding, in order to stay with the company we would need to relocate to Boulder, Colorado. My father ended up leaving the company, and we eventually moved to Redlands, Ca. I was around the age of twelve at the time. We ended up living across the road from a Stater Bros. shopping center, and to my surprise the city of Redlands was filled with historic old neighborhoods. Back then my mom and I would take joy rides driving around in the hills of south Redlands, day dreaming what it would be like to live in some of those large victorian homes. Those streets were unlike the neighborhoods I had watched being built in surrounding areas that seemed and felt like they came right out of a box. A few years later I moved to Highland, Ca with my father. That town was filled with such track houses sprawling all across the mountain base for miles. Then I lived a few years in San Bernardino near Waterman Ave. during my early twenties. A few years later in Grand Terrace near the 10 and 215 interchange. During that time I immersed myself in creating art and worked on developing a personal style. I gravitated towards capturing overlooked scenery that felt forgotten or shadowed by the immensely fast development of warehousing and KB homes.

Around 2015 I started taking longer trips with a small camera out to Joshua Tree, Ca. Venturing out in the National Park I felt like I had escaped to another planet. I started shooting photographs of the landscape to use as reference. This process and day long trips was an extraordinary feeling. I was onto a new perspective in life, escaping the changing atmosphere around me back home. Around 2008 is when I moved back to Redlands. Discovering unique places in the small downtown area, such as a little coffee shop that was filled daily with regulars. This downtown truly felt like a small corner that was different from where I had lived in the past. Back then during the years I lived in Highland it seemed like the only place to go out of the the house was a large Christian church smack in the middle of the housing developments. There didn’t seem to be any other places for people to get out and be in a town that didn’t all look the same. No downtown with locally owned shops, no art galleries, nowhere to walk the streets to admire any kind of unique architecture. It felt like lawns and garages was all there was to roam around to see.

Once I moved to Redlands I started taking trips to like I mentioned in Joshua Tree, followed by bike riding to San Francisco, going to eastern Europe, New York City, the Southwest, and India. Focusing all my art from the scenes I captured with a Yashica 35mm camera. All the work I made was referenced from these photographs. I had created dozens of paintings and sketches over those years. A handful of them have been sold, but there’s still a large collection I still have. In 2020 I was set to go on my first trip to Japan, visiting Tokyo and Kyoto. Then Covid-19 hit, and all plans were cancelled.

Not being able to travel during that time, I decided to venture off to downtown Los Angeles then on a road trip to the Coconino Navajo Nation in Arizona. Again, escaping the norm of my everyday surroundings. Looking to capture out of the ordinary scenes like I had in those different environments and foreign countries over the past years. Months later not sure where I would go next, I began to curiously shoot photographs in and around San Bernardino. Growing up nearby, my childhood days were spent visiting places throughout the city. Going to the Mexico restaurant on Highland Ave. or spending afternoons at the Stardust roller skating rink that was managed by my step grandparents, George and Virginia Catone. The wheels in my mind were turning. However I didn’t really realize what exactly I was actually wanting to capture and why. I began feeling a lot of self doubt, thinking that each image had to have some deep connection to my personal life and I had to know the full history of the location I was referencing.

Then before I knew it “normal” life crept up. Back to the office the majority of us went. Masks came off, eating out was of no question, freeways were full again. The pandemic started to feel like a blur of a distant memory.

Commuting to Riverside where I currently work didn’t take long for it to go back to how it was in 2019. Bumper to bumper traffic was back. One day after about a year being back full time in the office, I decided to take a different route on my commute, so I exited 9th St. in Colton, making a left turn onto La Cadena Dr. Then as I drove my car on that road underneath the 10 fwy, the bridges I saw were stacked high into the sky, feeling like I was being sucked down below under the weight of the Inland Empire. At that moment it struck me; this place I’ve known as home is filled with imagery that causes emotions not just to myself, but to so many others within my community. After that morning I went to work on the largest canvas I’ve worked on to date. Fighting against self doubt, knowing I had to focus my painting on this place called home.

As the months went on, and the layers of oil paint were applied. I would periodically share the progress of this painting on social media. Time and time again I would receive messages from friends telling me about their experience with this image. Which is quite the compliment to hear. The more days that went by I started to wonder and ask, “what is the direction of this painting truly about?” Prior to starting this painting I had completed a 30 x 40 inch canvas titled “Park Ave. 92507”. A piece that was an image of the old Tony’s Market on Park Ave. in Riverside, Ca. I would frequently have lunch across the street at El Trigo on Tuesdays. Admiring the hand painted signage and mural on the side of that building. Thinking to myself how special it was to see their sign painted by hand instead of manufactured in a warehouse. This painting was a starting point. Wanting to capture the vibrancy of the moment, and reflect it’s unique quality. But, it just seemed there needed to be more clarity the more I worked on the La Cadena painting. What is the message that I am really trying to get across?

Then one day in the month of March I had a special conversation. One of those talks that feels like turning a page onto a new chapter. Gallery owner Charlie James asked to discuss this new painting I had been working on. As we talked, I shared with him the experience I had in the moment and how it made me feel to process it. Charlie opened up and shared what his perspective was. He talked about the straight lines and industrial structure, saying it says a lot about the current state of the Inland Empire, a place my family and friends know as home. The development is far from what makes a city like downtown Los Angeles or New York City. Here we have large fields filled with weeds, and there have been numerous old buildings that have been torn down for reasons I am not aware. But, I do know some beautiful architecture has been crumbled away, and replaced with something that looks and feels lifeless to me. The roads and freeways here are widening to make room for more families to live in new track houses. One on top of the other, the bridges cross and in come the corporate businesses. Charlie had made it known to me that I have been living in and observing this development my whole life.

I thought to myself, “there it was!” That was the clarity I knew I had on the tip of my tongue. It was like a simple period at the end of the sentence. No wonder I spent close to seven years searching what felt like around the world for imagery I always wanted to see at home. For me the corporate shopping centers and mass produced homes didn’t feel natural. I wanted to see more painted signage, more neighborhoods filled with trees bearing fruit rather than the bushes and grass perfectly in line that have been planted by a housing development. How can the new residents breathing life into this place keep and experience the town’s history? With a final suggestion from Charlie, he said there just seems to be something missing that drives that point home. A contrast if you will.

I spent days pondering this as I continued to paint.

What is it that is missing? What is something that would show the weight that is burying us in these developments? I say all this not to state there is a fault within our cities. I am not a city planner. At this time in our society and where we have gone it is as the saying goes “the nature of the beast.” Fast food changed how we ate, Amazon changed how we shopped, social media changed how we interact. All to some degree an unstoppable force. I guess as an artist, is it my duty to capture it in some kind of form. I worked on this painting for six months. It was quite the journey. If there is one thing that makes a statement about what is changing here, it sure is our natural LAND.

“La Cadena Dr. 92324”

Oil on canvas

48 x 60

2023