Between the hours of night and day, when sleep won’t come, my brain sometimes feels like it empties all of its contents at once into one giant, common pool. Ideas, images, and even reoccurring dreams are dumped together and revealed in a random, senseless parade of memories and thoughts, sifted for hours by me and my insomnia.

This first painting is based on the pondering of a reoccurring dream I’ve had since having my first child many years ago. It seems to surface every few years.
“Pocket baby” begins with me holding a normal baby (not sure why or who it belongs to) Suddenly it’s mine to protect from imminent danger and I have to run with it. Eventually the baby shrinks to a size that can fit in my pocket making it much easier to carry and protect.