I 'm working in the downtimes: abandoned streets lit by sodium lamps, afterhours bars wreathed in illicit smoke, half-remembered parties spilling into urban landscapes. I'm using my painting practice to preserve this fleeting moment, the moment before the sun rises, before the neighborhood gets gentrified, before we sober up or get too old or run out of cigarettes. This moment in between lets me flirt with disaster and offers me the best hope of living free.

I've lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn for six years. In this short time I've witnessed various social forces drastically remake the neighborhood. Some of the changes have been very good, others ill-advised, and some detrimental. Whatever the result, something is definitely being left behind. These paintings describe a quickly-fading thing very precious to me: Williamsburg as I knew it.

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