A Short Bio

For most of my life, from the age of 12 when I wrote my first poem up to the present day, I have been a wordsmith, fascinated by what can be conveyed by words, and joyously dedicated to all manner of wordwork in plays, poems, journalism, social essays and so on. That writing binge included nearly two decades as a theatre/film critic for the San Francisco Chronicle. However, I was burning out fast. I felt as if I was being drowned in the ocean of verbiage; I even had nightmares of being forced down into a deep, dark pool of words, struggling for breath.

My psyche was telling me that my life was wildly out of balance. My creative side, my brain, my soul, needed another way of relating to the world, one that would use a different part of myself other than my intellect and a different way of communicating, other than solely through words. 

It seemed obvious that I urgently needed a new modality for creative expression. I seemed to possess no talents as a musician, painter, sculptor, potter. But then I remembered that as a young child, I had liked taking snapshots, so a few years ago I bought myself an inexpensive point-and-shoot Canon.

As it turned out, I seemed to have a "good eye." Shortly thereafter, I was invited to join the Photo Forum at the O'Hanlon Center for the Arts in Mill Valley, California. After absorbing information and tips from my more professional colleagues, my work began getting accepted in juried competitions, some of my photographs were winning awards, and I even was selling my photos to strangers outside my supportive family-and-friends network. And so began a new chapter in my life, as a "fine-arts photographer." (I'm not sure what that term actually means, but I think it has to do with being serious and being possessed of the creative drive to grow as an artist -- and, by necessity, as a person.)

As I suggested above, my creative life is much better balanced these days between continued experimentation with words and with visual images. I hope you will agree and will enjoy both.