I've been a choral singer since I could first read. Mom was the music director at our small church, and her only requirement for joining the junior choir was the ability to read. Like all boys, I had a soprano voice, and it turned out that I really liked singing. Mom and Dad drove me across town each week in fourth and fifth grade so that I could sing with (to my knowledge) the only boys' choir in San Antonio. I was hooked.
My voice started changing in sixth grade, but I was unwilling to give up singing soprano, so I became what my choir teacher, Mrs. Murphy, called "the boy with two voices": a high soprano and a nascent baritone. Fast-forward through the ensuing (gulp) thirty years and we speed past scenes of singing all four standard voice parts: soprano, alto, tenor, and bass -- occasionally all within a single concert -- to this day.
I came to painting later than singing, but with no less enthusiasm. Like with singing, I want to stretch all portions of my range. You may see narrative works on this website alongside abstract ones. You will see portraits and nudes and landscapes and cityscapes and non-objective works.
I'm an architect, too. I'm suspicious of architects whose work is instantly recognizable due to what can only be called style, like Richard Meier or Bernardo Fort-Brescia. It seems to me that restless, searching architects like Frank Lloyd Wright produce a wide array of work that transcends any single style. Compare his own home in Oak Park to the Usonian houses, Fallingwater, and the Guggenheim. It parallels the ongoing development of artists like Picasso through various periods: Blue, Rose, Cubist, Primitive ...
As I look at my own work, I wonder about my voice or voices as a painter. Perhaps I am overly self-compassionate, but I hold the work lightly, choosing not to constrain my range. Just as there are different kinds of singing for different occasions, and just as a house design differs from a hospital, I find myself stirred to work of varying characters at different times, scales, and media. Still the boy with (at least) two voices.