Previous issues:
Summer 2005 | Spring 2005 | Winter 2004/05
Fall 2004 | Summer 2004 | Spring 2004 | Winter 2003/04
Fall 2003 | Summer 2003 | Spring 2003 | Winter 2002/03
Fall 2002 | Summer 2002 | Spring 2002 | Winter 2001/02
Fall 2001 | Summer 2001 | Spring 2001 | Winter 2000/01
Fall 2000 | Summer 2000 | Spring 2000 | Winter 1999/2000
Fall 1999 | Summer 1999 | Spring 1999 | Winter 1998/99
See the Gallery for some exciting detailed images of the artist's work.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005Here we are, three weeks later, and the winter solstice is upon us. I've been back at home for a week, but not back to work yet. I'm still pondering some of the profound things that occurred to me during my trip to Thailand. Everything is different now. I feel that many things will never be the same, and it's a good thing.
Here are my notes from the plane ride home:
Arrived in Bangkok, strange new views of the city, not sleeping at all on my first night, the sky grows light, so many people, everywhere I turn, so many faces, so many people, so much noise, so many cars. The crush of humanity, it's almost too much. On the third day took a bus trip into the mountains, to another city, I knelt in a temple, in front of a huge reclining Buddha, the buzz of the jungle blended with the buzz in my ears. Was driven through an endlessly winding dirt road in the deep forest, to find a coffee shop overlooking an open valley, over a vast reservoir, amazing view. Met more people at dinner, more food, more food. Back to Bangkok, now feels like home, more food, and then one night among the tourists, and I was ready to disappear again. Noticing so many dogs, thinking about Frank, so much food, I don't ask for the food to be mild, putting more chilies on everything, hot chilies on my eggs in the morning, everything needs more heat, nothing is hot enough anymore. One night, trying to get a cab, the cloud of exhaust from the line of accelerating buses, the thick yellow haze, I could feel it on my eyes when I blinked, choking on the thick smoke, feels like hell, looks like hell. The days smear together, time slows down, I don't know what day it is, what time it is, who I was, who I am, where I'm going, time slows down...
Flying over the Alaskan tundra, western Canada, endless snow, lit up by moonlight, so much distance, so far away, vast and cold and empty, so much darkness between me and where I've been, and who I've been, and where I'm going.
Coming home.
Read on...to Winter of 2005/06
Thursday, December 1, 2005Time is rushing by, washing over me like a great tide, pushing and pulling, day after day. Another week is gone, and I'm packing my bag, leaving in a few hours, for two weeks kicking around in Thailand. Some things are in place, and other things will be finding their place.
All in good time.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005I finished the new painting of white tulips.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Monday, November 21, 2005And the journal seems to have screeched to a halt, and the email started coming in. What is happening? Where are you? What are you doing? I've been working on the house, the yard, applying to shows, living life, getting websites up an running, yesterday I mixed colors and started throwing paint on a smaller study of white tulips against an off white background, for yet another commission. Today I managed to hammer down a refreshingly fast and solid painting. I'll have a final look in the morning to see how it looks before leaving with Frank and my mother to visit my brother and his family for a few days in Chapel Hill, NC.
Monday, November 14, 2005The new painting of white tulips is finished.
Saturday, November 12, 2005The painting of white tulips is almost about to begin to be finished, but not quite. Nothing seems to be happening easily, and I'm endlessly frustrated with circling around and around the surface hoping to eventually resolve this study. At this point I would welcome any help, and if anyone wants to come by and help me finish this painting I would be endlessly grateful.
The big side project right now is the construction of a great loft in my living room, extending the floor space of the second floor landing into a great cantilevered platform, overlooking the painting studio, and the lake below. It will be exciting to see such an ambitious addition to my living space.
Thursday, November 10, 2005I've been working on a new painting of white tulips against a very light blue background. The surface is coming up nicely, the entire thing is looking like a bit of a nightmare. Tomorrow should see things start to come together.
The cam hasn't been running, or at least not aimed at me, for about a week now. For some reason I'm barely sleeping, and probably for the same reason I don't feel that I'm ever really awake. This morning after an intense windstorm last night, the entire world looked so strange, as though I were viewing it through a series of colored filters. Even Frank looks strange and foreign to me, and I'm not sure if I've even seen Ojisan for more than a few minutes at one point today. I'm not sure where he's setting up camp, but I'm sure he's getting some good sleep. Some things are falling into place, other things are continuing to pile up, like all the leaves outside, like all the paperwork inside. I don't remember where it all began, I'm not sure if I ever even imagined an end. I need some sleep, I'm going to bed now.
Monday, November 7, 2005I started mixing colors for yet another giant study of white tulips on light blue, only to find that my reserve of tulips is looking a bit dodgy. I immediately placed an order for another shipment of tulips. For now I'll keep mixing colors and be ready to start throwing paint as soon as the delivery truck arrives on Wednesday.
Sunday, November 6, 2005The painting of white tulips is finally finished.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Saturday, November 5, 2005And sometimes there is no part of what I do that comes easily to me. All week I've been hammering away at this new large study of white tulips, and all week I've been generating a massive piled of shards of paint as I scrape off every brushstroke I lay down, trying to carve out a believable image. Sometimes I wish that someone else could just step in and help resolve things. Maybe I just need to walk away, maybe I need a break from it all, maybe I just need to go somewhere really far away, for a few days, or maybe even a few weeks. I'm open to suggestions, anyone?
Tuesday, November 1, 2005Today I started throwing paint down on a large study of white tulips against a light blue background. These past few days I've been trying to straddle so many moving parts. I've been shooting new promotional images of the work for a new ad campaign I'll be starting, as well as getting the yard ready for the last blast of autumn.
Last night while taking out the trash with Frank I heard the most heinous noise, so horrific that it made the hairs on my neck stand up. Frank and I froze, and a giant fox bolted across the driveway right in front of us, chasing something that had an aversion to being killed. The desperate screeching continued into the distance as predator and prey continued down to the lake, and further back into the woods. It was fitting on Halloween night that I be so thoroughly unnerved by things that shriek in the night.
Monday, October 31, 2005I mixed paint for a new study of white tulips, and stretched a big canvas, and took care of paperwork.
Thursday, October 27, 2005After going a full day over schedule, I finally managed to finish this study of white tulips.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005I'm all but finished with this new painting of white tulips against a yellow background. Tomorrow I should see this study resolved without too much duress.
Apparently the website has been down for a few days. As it turns out, hurricane Wilma has knocked out all the power in Boca Raton, shutting down the servers that were running the website. The weather has been dark and dismal for a few days, also as a result of the hurricane, but I've been managing to slug out this painting nonetheless.
Sunday, October 23, 2005I started throwing down paint on a mid-sized study of white tulips against a dark yellow background.
Saturday, October 22, 2005The painting of white tulips is finished.
Click on the image to see a larger version.I immediately started mixing colors for another study of white tulips against a dark yellow background
Friday, October 21, 2005The painting of white tulips is all but finished, I'll have a final look in the morning to be sure.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005For the second day I've been throwing paint down on this new study of white tulips. The painting seemed to be at a standstill until late afternoon, when suddenly I realized that things were taking shape, and the end may soon be in sight. Tomorrow should see this painting almost finished. With my face to the canvas these past few days, I almost missed seeing how perfect the weather has been.
Today I was reminded of how I am too close to everything to appreciate what I'm really doing. There is so much pain and sadness in the world, and what I think looks good enough to be signed and called finished has the power to give people a break from their routines of grief and hardship. I should try to remember, and see what it will also do for myself.
Monday, October 17, 2005I'm back from a blustery weekend in Bethesda. On Saturday night I had dinner with Marshall Burns and David and Sue Brown Gordon, and last night I sat down for sushi, with Richard Harrington and John Harris, comparing notes on the ends of our exhausting show seasons. I saw many more old friends, made a few new ones, and made a few good business contacts for the future. The end of the final Sunday night dinner after a show always has a certain bittersweet feel, as everyone says goodbye and scatters in different directions. In the cool air of the final show of autumn, the sense of loss and ending is so much more profound. The short drive home seemed to go on forever.
As I sift through the rubble of my past six weeks on the road, I'm preparing for this series of commissioned paintings of tulips. I started mixing colors for the first study, a giant canvas of the white tulips against a blue background. Tomorrow I will start throwing paint.
I took Frank to the dog park tonight, the sky was clear, the sunset was just a perfect fade of blue to orange. By the time I picked up groceries and got home, the full moon was brilliant, hanging over the horizon like a searchlight.
Friday, October 14, 2005This new painting is finished, I'm framing the last few paintings, doing laundry, packing, and racing to get out the door for Bethesda.
A shipment of 72 white tulips arrived today, so I'll be very busy when I get home, for weeks to come.
All is good, I'm out of here.
Thursday, October 13, 2005Not much to report today, it was very overcast and poured heavily again, so I didn't paint. I did manage to see the doctor today, concerning this nagging cough I've had for the past month or so. I came home with a bag of free samples, for congestion and allergies, and I immediately feel so much better. Ah yes.
And Joyce, if you're reading this, happy birthday to Hannah, and all the best to you and Joe, and the new little one.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005I mixed colors and managed to get a good start on a study of two of the same green apples I've been painting for months and months now. Paint is laid down and brushed out, and I should see things take shape tomorrow.
I feel like I'm in a haze these past few days. I'm not sure if it's allergies or exhaustion. Maybe seeing the sun shining for a change would help. Who knows.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005It's dark and grey today, and I'm moving very slowly. Recap of the past few days, on Thursday I finished the tryptic and started a small painting of the same three apples, on Friday I finished the painting and drove through the driving rain to Greenwich, Connecticut, on Saturday I set up my display at the show in the heavy driving rain, and strangely had a good first day of the show despite horrible weather. I slept well on Saturday night, and managed to find homes for a few more paintings on Sunday. I made it home on Sunday night, and spent yesterday finishing paperwork, making phone calls, studying the dim light for a chance to paint. My friends Paige and Jeffrey Cannon arrived last night, coming from the same show last weekend, on their way to the same show where I will be exhibiting next weekend.
It may not be sunny again for another few days, so I may decide to paint anyway. We'll see.
Wednesday, October 5, 2005I'm so close to finishing this tryptic of green apples, but the light seems to be gone too quickly. I'll nail this down easily tomorrow.
Today Frank managed to get a smear of fuscia on his fur from some berries in the yard. Crazy freak that I am, I decided to grab handfuls of the berries and crush them into a sludge, and rubbed it into his entire coat, making him a really bizarrely colored dog. These are the small things that entertain me so.
Tuesday, October 4, 2005I'm back from the show, and now I'm starting to mix colors for a tryptic of apples.
Friday, September 30, 2005The two paintings are finished, and I'm heading out the door.
Thursday, September 29, 2005I'm back from Kansas City, and I managed to get called to take the place of a cancellation at the Armonk Art Show this coming weekend. The fall season kicked off with me trying to get my palette up and running again, and getting started on some rude little studies of the coffee cup and saucer. I'll have to build a surface up and then nail these down in short time tomorrow, so I can leave in time to get set up for the show tomorrow night. It's good to be painting again, but the autumn light is harsh and strange. I'm struggling with finding some of the colors, but it's just as well, as nothing seems to come easily to me lately.
If you find yourself hungering for yet more dramatization of the angst of a painter, see Summer 2005 for the previous season's struggles.
Home - The Gallery - Exhibition Schedule
