They are complicated, masterfully rendered landscapes of the region between the hilarious and the alarming, between the good naturedly erotic and the post-apocalyptic nightmare, between the churning sea and the boat saving us from the churning sea.

They call to mind an unlikely pantheon: R. Crumb, Max Beckmann, Gustave Courbet, and especially Hieronymus Bosch, in whose paintings you can lose yourself and feel a gravitational shift.