Aware of my name Fletcher (an arrow maker) from my earliest recollections, it drew me to my Mother’s natural heritage that her adoption by a pious Nazarene preacher all but feel into the shadows and seemed only to exist in this one photo reproduction taken by famous Indian photographer Carl Moon when she was a child. The silence around the mystery made it that much more provocative. I’ve used the arrow to propel my self through the vortex of life.

When shaping the different functional boards that surfers have ridden to hunt waves since the beginning of surfing’s recorded history, I couldn’t help but think how the ownership of more than one board is called a quiver, a case for holding arrows. The geometric images dancing across the surface of the boards remind me of my American Indian heritage that seems to come unexpectedly to the surface when painting these
speeding arrows.