My name is Richie, though I often go by Mick. I was born in Syosset, New York, and raised in a military family that moved often, leaving me with a patchwork sense of home and a deep respect for change. I studied fine art at the School of The Art Institute of Chicago, and today I live and work in Austin, Texas. This is where I make art, raise a wild and wonderful family, and collaborate with my brilliant wife, Suzanna - an endlessly inspiring artist and creative force. You should absolutely check out her interior design work.
I am endlessly curious and drawn to the subtle, the strange, and the often overlooked. My work is rooted in a fascination with the everyday: the quiet magic of glowing objects, hidden corners, furry creatures, the behavior of light, and the delicate line between what is real and imagined. I’m captivated by the interplay of the present with memories of the past and projections of the future by the fleeting nature of experience and the wonder embedded in the mundane. There is an undeniable strangeness in the world, yet we often retreat from it. We wear social masks, protecting ourselves from vulnerability, judgment, or failure. Why are we so afraid of being seen as uncertain or imperfect? Perhaps it’s the fear of losing status, of not being in control, of being the student rather than the master. But I believe we are always both learning and teaching, leading and following, and that this duality is part of what makes us human. My work explores these themes through a process-driven approach that values imperfection, spontaneity, and emotional honesty. I’m especially interested in the creative potential of failure of pushing against logic and convention in pursuit of something more raw and sincere. The recurring figure of the clown or fool serves as a personal symbol of this vulnerability: stumbling through, making messes, and unintentionally uncovering truths. Through layered textures, expressive color, and loosely woven narratives, I aim to create space for reflection, catharsis, and even humor. My goal is not to offer answers, but to invite viewers into a moment of presence where the polished surface gives way to something more human, more true.
