I spent thirteen months in Antwerp, Belgium after leaving the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. I followed my mentor, Jan Cox, to his home country. There I felt painfully cut off in a myriad of ways: living alone an ocean away from home during the post-Vietnam period when a hatred of Americans was widespread. I spoke no Flemish and few would speak to me in English. The artwork I created during this period was my first professional body of work. The paintings showed barren labyrinthine plazas wherein stood individuals with a part of their body cut off. The leg or arm lay next to them pooled in blood.
In retrospect, these works from my early artistic career are transparent in their gestation.
To my horror, after shipping everything home, all paintings and artworks of this period were destroyed.