A Mogul miniature of a lion attack inspired that particular painting. In my version, when I drew the lion and man on the canvas, they were so large there wasn't any more room for another adult to help fight off the lion. In the initial drawing the guy fighting the lion was bent over so he would fit on the canvas. Well, that looked kind of silly so I just made him into a boy.

Then the narrative of the painting just sort of shifted into a painting of my father's lung cancer, and me being brave and attacking it but with completely the wrong tools. And here's where the light breaks through: In the experience with my father's death from lung cancer, I couldn't make the lion bad. I mean the lion is powerful and the lion is terrible, but symbolically the lion is not the enemy. Aside from my intentions, the painting became more about "who is actually doing the rescuing?"

Anyway, that's an example of a painting where I feel like I've walked into some territory that is frightening and dark for me.

There's a lot about life that is horribly dark and there are certainly painters that try to paint unmitigated darkness, but I don't think it's a good idea; I don't think it's useful; I don't think it helps. I think that there are some things that maybe we refuse to acknowledge or allow into ourselves — but I actually think that an artist who's going to rub your nose into some horror, whether you want to or not, is wrong.

There are artists who have handled dark subjects beautifully and reverently. Any subject has to be approached with a degree of reverence, and maybe particularly the dark ones. But the notion of darkness without God is foreign to my worldview. Even though I experience tragedy and pain and sorrow, I cannot look at those emotions and issues without thinking there's hope in spite of it.

When and if I walk into those territories in my work, I have no interest in ignoring the hope. Yet it's not my intention to paint a sugary view of things, either.

DMN: Have you ever had to alter your vision for commercial purposes or acceptance, or do you always hold true to your vision?

BK: From the very start I realized that I couldn't do commissions. The paintings need to be mine until they are sold. People used to come into the studio and want to purchase a painting before it was done. If it's not mine it's hard to work on it anymore. But there have been times where, for practical reasons, alterations have been made. But I won't do them against my vision. There are times when the practical solution is a good one. But money is not a good reason to go looking for visions, so I suppose the short answer to the question would be, nope and yep.

DMN: You consistently employ the figure in your art. What do you think of the use of the figure in some of today's art?