African-American culture is rich in color, texture, history and value. I use my paintbrush to represent and document all that I can recall. It’s my way to resist black lives being forgotten, rewritten or marginalized. I paint ancestors who stayed behind, those lost in the passage, those who survived and possible futures.

My paintings are our story.

I hope my art will connect you to collective memory, purpose and joy.

About Me

Early Life. I was born in Newport News, Virginia where I attended John Marshall Elementary School and Huntington High. My earliest art memories are of sibling coloring contests supplied by cast-off coloring books and crayons from my grandmother’s job as a janitor at a whites only elementary school. Cast off National Geographic magazines, encyclopedias and other text books filled my grandmother, Beulah Fox’s, home. My vibrant colors, upcycled materials and connection to African-American culture is directly influenced by those early years.

At 17 years old I escaped a future of working in the Newport News Shipyard Drydock and ran toward the bright lights of New York City. From there I started and crisscrossed the country living a hustler’s lifestyle for more than 10 years until a foreboding visit from my deceased Grandmother scared me straight. I found a square job selling shoes, settled down, married and started a family.

During this time and since my coloring days, my only art was doodling.

Art Mentor. I was attending a party in our building with my wife when she introduced me to an artist, Mark Morse. Mark had ‘tagged” a building in our neighborhood with his artwork and was desperate for the work to be seen. We took a look and became friends. Mark convinced me my doodles were art and to go with him to an arts supply store. He showed me canvas, brushes and paints.

I was over 40 years old at the time.

Making Up For Lost Time. Over night I became an artist. Something, somewhere, deep down inside that I knew I was all the time. I painted with a fury not only on canvas but on anything and everything I could get my hands on: doors, ironing boards, chest of drawers, refrigerators, vanities, chairs, picture frames, mirrors, musical instruments, aprons, coats, hats, shirts and tuxedo jackets. It was all a blank canvas awaiting my hand. Including our black pleather sofa. That was a temptation I could not resist.

Knocking on Doors. I was still painting on furniture and ready to share my work. I knocked on gallery doors and finally a big Chelsea gallery said they wanted to see my work. I convinced my wife that we should rent a U-Haul. We loaded it up and drove down to the gallery. Of course, the gallerist never stepped outside of her office to meet me, let alone cross her threshold and peek at my brilliance in the U-Haul truck.

Daily Art Show. We’d purchased a brownstone in the New York City Harlem Sealed Bid Auction that required a gut renovation. While the space was clearly still under renovation I found a 10 foot canvas, wrote Gallery on it and hung it from the a second floor window. I used the broken steps and concrete sealed door of our home as my easel and gallery wall. I was going to give the thousands of people enroute to work and their daily routine whether on foot, in a car, on a scooter, bike or bus a Daily Art Show.

Heath Gallery Is Born. It took more than 15 years to complete our renovation and move in. That’s not a typo. 15 years!!! Our oldest daughter was already in high school so we decided to create a studio where I could work and use the first floor to show my work. All a gallery needs is one wall, right? We used several. Our living room and dining room became the art gallery during the day. I stopped knocking on gallery doors and hosted my own exhibits, signed our house up to be a part of neighborhood house tours, open studio tours and made the space available for community events. We hung my art, built a mailing list, and created buyers and collectors one event at a time. We stuck to limited hours and shoved our sparse living room and dining room furniture in closets, the basement and even the back porch when we needed to get it out of the way.

My work is in private collections around the country and part of the permanent collection of the Downing-Gross Arts Center where I recently showed more than 20 pieces in an exhibition, “Beutiful Irony” honoring my Grandmother Beulah Fox.

Publications include, “The Long Rode Home” by Crystal Britton, Newsweek Magazine and the New York Times.