I was living in an artist's loft space in Brooklyn with my wife and newborn daughter when the owner decided to convert the building into a luxury condo. We needed enough space to live and work and found ourselves looking further and further outside metropolitan NY. We ended up settling about 25 miles north, moving into a modest mid-century home in a town filled with bankers and lawyers and diplomats -- the complete antithesis of an artist community, dirty sidewalks replaced with manicured lawns.

The basement became my new studio. I spent hours at a time in my own world, unaware of my surrounding... until every so often, I would come up for air. Many afternoons, I found myself walking among the virtual mansions right outside my door. I began to fixate on them, my imagination going wild as I wondered about the people inside, my neighbors. I returned to my studio and began combining luscious oils and ironic narrative to invite myself into a world that both attracts and repulses me. Whether this world is reality or strictly fantasy, it almost doesn't matter. They're the neighbours I've come to know.