Armed with a brand new degree and ample mental compost from which to germinate the roots of a personal art, life as a painter began with serious doubts about why painting quickly devolved into illustration. This dilemma initiated a 12-year period of abstention from exhibitions, competition and self-promotion. It became necessary to resolve why my love for painting always ended in a frustrating string of destroyed canvases. I finally realized that painting is nothing more than flattened sculpture. In hindsight, this cloistered approach marked the beginning of a long path through sculpture towards an intended return to painting.

Arriving anonymously at mid-career, I chafe under the pressure of being a squeaky wheel, and live as an industrious shunpiker.

                                                     - R. L. Croft