Art used to be my release -- my personal door into a world of peace or drama or sex. When AIDS decided to land in my lap, art had to take a back seat (as did peace). Almost twelve years later, peace, sex and art get as much attention as I can spare -- virtually none. So when I do get the chance, creating art is my personal door out of a life of drama and into the "real" world.     In "St. Prometheus," the victim of AIDS is bound under an unrelenting sun, represented by the virus. On the left, three doctors walk away like zombies, with hypos in their back. They leave Prometheus on a mound of medication, on the edge of death, picked at by all sorts of scavengers, represented by the vultures.     "St. John in the Wilderness," is a self-portrait dealing with the issues of the death of a lover, and the chaos left in the wake of his death. I attempted to combine religious symbolism with scenes of modern city life, which add to my sense of chaos. In my journey with AIDS, I walk a thin plank over the abyss which could swallow me whole.     These pieces hint at the anger and desperation I feel as a man at the mercy of our medical system, our society, and of AIDS.