About
Introduction
Spar Street’s work has been featured in solo and group exhibitions nationally and internationally in galleries and cultural centers, including Art Miami, Miami Beach, Florida; Art Miami Context in Miami Beach, Florida; Hay Hill Gallery in London; Alp Galleries in Frankfurt, Germany; SCOPE in Basel, Switzerland; Gallery 1949 in Aspen, Colorado; the Museum of Contemporary Art in San Diego; the Hansen Galleries in New York City; Gallery Rodeo in Beverly Hills, California; the Pam Driscoll Gallery in Aspen, Colorado; Gallery Duval in Key West, Florida: GRAMMY Art of Music Gallery in Las Vegas; Plaza Galleries, Whistler, B. C., Canada; Artesia Gallery in Vail, Colorado; Richard Thomas Galleries in Park City, Utah and San Francisco; J. R. Fine Arts in Scottsdale, Arizona; International Art in Miami; FACT Gallery in Laguna Beach, California; the Masterpiece Gallery in Boca Raton, Florida; the Rendez-Vous Art Gallery in Vancouver, B. C., Art Link in Sydney, Australia; and Art Gallery Masajiro in Tokyo.
In addition, his work is in private, corporate, and public collections including those of Sir Richard Branson, Ted Turner, Andre Agassi, Richard Gere, The United Nations, The Virgin Group, Bank of Hawaii, Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce, Neiman Marcus Group, HSBC, The Seagram Company, Pan Pacific Hotels, Nike Corporation, Federal Express., the B. C. Children’s Hospital, Columbia Academy, Lions Gate Hospital, Shaughnessy Hospital, Simon Fraser University.
Origin of My Name Spar
Selected Exhibitions
Current
Gallery Biba
Palm Beach, Florida
Avant Gallery
Miami, Florida
Laurent Marthaler Contemporary
Montreux, Switzerland
Avant Gallery
Dubai, UAE
Masters Gallery
Denver, Colorado
Upcoming
Smith Davidson Gallery
Amsterdam, The Netherlands
New York, New York
Paris, France
Past
Plaza Galleries
Whistler, Canada
Rendez-Vous Art Gallery
Vancouver, Canada
Hansen Galleries
New York, New York
Gallery Duval
Key West, Florida
GRAMMY Art of Music Gallery
Las Vegas, Nevada
J R Fine Arts
Scottsdale, Arizona
Masterpiece Gallery
Boca Raton, Florida
Art Link
Sydney, Australia
Hay Hill Gallery
London, England
International Art
Miami, Florida
Artesia Gallery
Vail, Colorado
Richard Thomas Galleries
Park City, Utah
FACT Gallery
Laguna Beach, California
Art Gallery Masajiro
Tokyo, Japan
Alp Galleries
Basel, Switzerland
Alp Galleries
Frankfurt, Germany
Gallery Rodeo
Beverly Hills, California
Richard Thomas Galleries
San Francisco, California
Museum of Contemporary Art
San Diego, California
House of Whitley
West Palm Beach, Florida
Ca’ d’Oro Art Gallery
Miami, Florida
Art Palm Beach
Palm Beach, Florida
Monarch | Arredon Contemporary
La Jolla, California
Art Miami
Miami, Florida
Galerie Zuger
Vail, Colorado
My Process
My artworks are born out of body recognized primordial truth … the kind of honesty that arrives in the body, not as subtle sensation, but like lightning in the chest that leaves every cell in my body smelling like ozone and wet earth. The kind of truth that feels more like daring exposure because it makes my body tremble and tears spontaneously flood from my eyes, the kind of truth that is courageous vulnerability…the revelatory, uncompromising, radically alive center of undefended transparency itself.
I do not make paintings and sculptures. I forge evidence. Within each one of us is an ancient ache and a roar that remembers. The function of my art: to be the space where the untouched ache meets the ancient roar. My art is a lightning rod of that collision.… a chance to feel it so we wake up, knowing what it’s like to live and breathe and pulse from that epicenter. Each artwork is proof that the crossing is possible. That the unbearable power of tenderness and sensitivity of real living can be felt—not with trepidation, but with a fury of love so vast it tears the world apart and puts it back together, shining.
Each piece is made from the body recognized articulation of truth… made for the people who need to truly love and truly live… unabashed… with the audacious unwillingness to let the voice of worthlessness argue with ecstasy… with the joyous, deliberate release into wild abandoned. Every painting and sculpture is made for people who choose not to push down the unbidden, visceral, irrepressible need to be intimate with a thoroughly lived and loved life.
Art is passion.
Passion is life.
Life is art.
The Source Guides My Work
The Source that guides my work is forever asking me to stay awake to the roar that remembers. That source immutably, reminding me that I am not a small story of me and my problems. I am the infinite, loved and cherished, blessed and moving in ecstasy. This source does not entertain the comfort of my illusions. It dismantles them one at a time. I am not worthless, fragile, being drifting through an uncaring world. It reminds me that I am the cosmos itself given form and breathe and the capacity to love beyond measure.
This source does not teach me to avoid pain. It teaches me to go to the very center of it and discovered that it is the alchemy that turns everything to God. Pain is not my enemy. It is the doorway through which the light enters.
For me, this source as me the painting is not the act of putting lifeless paint on canvas. It is the act of making the living flame of life visible, palpable and visceral. And if I let that flame touched me, I do not return to this world the same. This fire has a flame that burns away everything that is not real. It burns everything that is not true. What remains blazes with the radiance of the Beloved.
When everything else has been stripped away. My roles and rules. My defenses. My withholds. A quiet space I am before I become what the world expects me to be. There are parts of me that can only surface when everything else has been stripped away. Deeper than my name. Stripped away of the noise in my mind. The endless brawl behind the first smile I present is made.
Life on Maui
My parents started bringing me to Maui in 1969.
We came almost every year for a month until I graduated high school in 1981. After that, I came back to surf and windsurf for what was supposed to be three weeks.
I stayed three months.
Then I kept coming back. Longer each time.
Until eventually, I moved here permanently.
In my experience, every place on this planet carries its own feeling, its own resonance.
For my body and my soul, I feel most at home here.
Most alive here.
Every single day, I am touched by the beauty of this island.
Not just visually — but energetically.
The scale of it. The power of it. The constant movement between stillness and intensity.
It keeps me awake.
The lifestyle here — hiking, swimming, dancing, surfing — feels like living inside something sacred. Something real.
I’ve traveled extensively around the world.
There is nowhere like Maui.
For living and loving a life that feels full — not just externally, but internally — this place is a vortex.
It feeds my spirit.
And it opens something in me that allows the work to come through.
Living on Maui, the land itself feels alive.
There are mornings when the light comes in soft and golden, and everything slows down enough for me to actually feel where I am. The ocean, the wind moving through the palms, the way the air carries both stillness and power at the same time. It’s not just beautiful. It’s grounding.
Living here has changed the way I create.
There’s a deeper listening that happens. Less forcing. More allowing. The work doesn’t come from trying to make something impressive. It comes from being present enough to notice what wants to emerge.
Maui also strips things down. There’s nowhere to hide here for long. If I’m disconnected, I feel it. If I’m open, I feel that too.
A lot of my work is shaped by that tension between raw nature and inner experience. Between stillness and intensity. Between peace and the fire that wants to move through me.
This island reminds me, over and over again, to come back to what is real.
Life as a Skier
I can ski better than I can walk.
My father was a ski area developer. I was born in Park City while he was transforming it from a mining town into a ski destination after the gold ran out of the hills.
My mother skied with me in her belly until she was eight and a half months pregnant.
I started skiing at two years old.
By six, I was competing — slalom, giant slalom, downhill, moguls, aerials.
By twelve, I was training five days a week. Nights. Weekends. Everything revolved around it.
I wasn’t good at school, and I hated being there.
But the moment I clicked into my skis, everything changed.
That was freedom.
That was where I could fly.
I lived in West Vancouver, skiing Grouse Mountain at night and Whistler every weekend. I competed for years and won many medals along the way.
My best results were placing third in Canada at the Canadian National Freestyle Championships in Quebec and finishing in the top sixteen in the world at the World Mogul Championships at Snowbird, Utah.
Skiing gave me something I still return to in my work —
commitment, instinct, and the willingness to drop in fully.
I learned so much about lines that have power and lines that lose power as a skier. That learning is in my blood and bones and expresses itself through every painting and sculpture that comes through me.
Skiing has been one of the places in my life where I’ve felt the most free.
There’s something about standing at the top of a mountain, looking down, and knowing there’s no halfway. You either go, or you don’t. And once you drop in, your body takes over. There’s no room for overthinking.
It’s immediate. It’s physical. It’s alive.
I’ve always been drawn to that edge. That place where control gives way to trust. Where you have to be fully present or you pay for it.
Skiing taught me a lot about that.
About commitment. About momentum. About what happens when you actually give yourself to something instead of holding back.
That same energy shows up in my work.
There are moments in the studio that feel exactly like that first turn down a steep line. No guarantee. No safety net. Just movement, instinct, and a willingness to go where it leads.
That’s where the best work comes from
Life as a Dancer
I’ve been dancing since I was ten years old.
Jazz. Ballet. Ballroom. Hip hop. Salsa. Bachata. And Ecstatic Dance.
Over time, dance stopped being something I did
and became something as essential as air, food, and water.
Since 2019 Brazilian Zouk is the only dance my body and soul wants to dance. It has become an obsession that has taken me around the world many many times over the years.
Not because it’s popular.
But because it invite me a quality of Flo, Intimacy, passion, vulnerability, power, and surrender like nothing else does. Zouk is a portal into :
Presence. Freedom. Listening. Trust.
There is a moment in dance
where technique disappears
and something else takes over. I live for that!
I call that…
The Deep Dance.
⸻
The Deep Dance
The Deep Dance is not performance.
It is not choreography.
It is what happens
when two people meet without holding back.
When attention becomes so complete
that there is no distance left between me and my partner. Our minds are blown and something larger than life is dancing us.
It begins in the body…
in breath, in rhythm, in connection.
But when it’s real, it doesn’t stop there.
It moves into something deeper.
A place where instinct replaces thinking.
Where presence replaces effort.
Where two people stop trying to lead or follow…
and begin to move as one.
⸻
The Deep Dance is not something I do on a dance floor.
It is something I return to in my life.
In my work.
In the way I create.
Because the same thing is required in all of it:
To show up fully.
To listen deeply.
To hold nothing back.
I was named by my father, a man who loved the ocean.
My brother is named Jib.
If you know sailing, you already understand something about us.
If you don’t… you can still feel it.
A spar is what holds the sail.
It doesn’t create the wind.
It doesn’t decide the direction.
But it is the structure that takes invisible power…
and makes it usable.
Without it…
the wind has nothing to meet.
Nothing to fill.
Nothing to move.
No journey happens.
…
There’s another meaning.
To spar is to train with someone…
to meet them in intensity…
not to hurt them,
but to make each other stronger.
To refine.
To awaken.
To become more honest…
and more prepared to thrive and meet life fully.
…
And in Jamaica, your “spar” is your closest friend.
The one who stands with you.
The one who doesn’t disappear when things get real.
The one who meets you in it.
Your friend in the deep end of living.
…
And in the forest,
the spar tree is the one they choose as the gathering place.
The tallest.
The strongest.
The one everything else is drawn toward.
I don’t know what my father knew…
but at 6 foot 6, I often find myself as the tallest person in the room. My home has often been the place where people gather.
…
At some point, I realized my life has been living inside my name.
I don’t create the force that moves people.
I’ve learned to recognize it…
and give it form…
so it can be felt, harnessed, and lived.
I don’t manufacture inspiration.
But I do have a gift for helping people find it within themselves.
I don’t try to change people.
But for those brave souls willing to orient their lives around what is real and true for them…
I can be a powerful catalyst.
…
I listen.
And I create something that can hold what’s already there.
For the bold and daring…
for the ones who actually want to live while they’re alive…
I am someone who will meet you.
Challenge you.
Stay with you… even when life gets hard.
…
My work is not decoration.
It is an encounter.
A place where something real in you is invited to rise…
to be seen…
to be felt…
to be strengthened.