Previous issues:
Summer 2006 | Spring 2006 | Winter 2005/06
Fall 2005 | 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.
Thursday, December 21, 2006 Winter SolsticeOn this very darkest day of the year, I'm looking out the window, and staring at the dark forest. The sun never came out today, and I'm too exhausted to care. I escaped for a last minute trip to London over the weekend, to pursue some business ventures and to catch up with some friends. In the good company of the adorable Miss Le and the charming Mr. Lang I had a wonderful time. Miss Le made sure I ate well, and Mr. Lang made sure I drank too much and looked at so much artwork I felt like my head was in a vise. We toured the Hermitage collection at the Somerset House, and a smashing Valesquez exhibit at the National Gallery. We were numb by the end of it. I talked to a gallery owner, and visited some gallery spaces, and started thinking about setting up a temporary studio for a new perspective in my work, and in my career. We'll see what happens next.
Yesterday Frank and I drove to Connecticut and NYC for deliveries, not getting home again until very late in the evening. I pushed through the throngs of people in the cross streets of lower Manhattan, and found some tulips for my next painting.
The crush of exhaustion and jetlag is amazing, and soon I will crash.
Read on...to Winter of 2006/07
Wednesday, December 13, 2006The painting of red tulips is finally finished.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Sunday, December 10, 2006I continued to throw paint down on this study of red tulips. Tomorrow will see this piece really start to take shape.
This morning I met with some clients, and we had an enjoyable time talking about everything. My clients always wind up being really nice people, and I always enjoy being reminded of who really is the end user of this product I create.
Saturday, December 9, 2006Last night the temperature plummeted to a brittle chill, and this morning the geese were walking around on the frozen lake.
I started throwing paint down on this newest study of red tulips.
Thursday, December 7, 2006I started mixing colors for the next study of red tulips. The day ended in an amazing blaze of color, I could do nothing but stare at the sky.
Wednesday, December 6, 2006I finally finished the study of red tulips. It went an extra day into overtime, but I was able to tie things together and wrap it up. As always, the challenge is in doing it quickly, and making it look easy. I'm going to try another study of the same red tulips again tomorrow, and we'll see if I can't do a better job of finishing it in a timely manner.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Monday, December 4, 2006Today the study of red tulips started to really snap into shape. This should be all but finished by the end of tomorrow's session.
The weather has taken its first plunge into deep cold, and of course it's only the beginning.
Sunday, December 3, 2006I continued to work on the study of red tulips. I'm building up a surface, digging out some shapes, taking my mind off of so many things while I work.
The year is winding down, the days are growing shorter and shorter, night is falling in what used to be the middle of the afternoon. Frank is almost back to normal, and he can definitely still run as fast as he ever could. Run, Frank, run.
Saturday, December 2, 2006I'm finally back to work on the study of red tulips. Frank got a lot worse before he got better, but as of this morning he is well on his way to a full recovery. It's nice to see his tail wag again.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006I'm back at work, mixing colors for a new study of red tulips. I've been working on getting some booth shots for the upcoming show applications. A few things are coming together, but most things feel like they're falling apart. The things I care about most seem to be crumbling through my hands, no matter what I do to hold on. Nights like this I'm so very aware of all the cold and depth and darkness and pain and tragedy in the world. And to top it all off, Frank is as sick as a dog, violently ill again and again. I'm not sure how much I'll sleep tonight. Whatever he ate I'm hoping he manages to cough it out.
Monday, November 20, 2006Today I'm tying up loose ends, and getting ready to leave for a few days to visit my brother in Chapel Hill, in North Carolina. I'll be home on Saturday, to be back to work next week.
Sunday, November 19, 2006One thing after another seemed to come between me and resolving this painting. The small study of green apples against the odd blue background almost died on the easel, but I was able to resurrect it and pull it together nicely.
Click on the image to see a larger version.Over the past few days I've been busy. One night I met with the conceptual artist Keiko Miyamori and some of her friends, and then had a short visit with the artist David Bielick and Theresa. Frank and I had fun in the city, he was exploring the courtyard in front of the Rodin museum and running circles around The Thinker. One day was lost in darkness as rain hammered down all day. I then met with the director of the Artworks Gallery at the Philadelphia Museum of Art and delivered some new paintings, and discussed an upcoming exhibition of my paintings at the Commerce Square buildings. It's all very exciting, so much to think about.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006With all the leftover paint from yesterday's study, I decided to slam down a smaller version of the same study of three green apples. Inventing colors for the background and the shadows feels like new territory for me, we'll see what happens.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006I'm finished with the large study of green apples.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Sunday, November 12, 2006I made some good progress on this new study of green apples. My mother arrived yesterday, and today decided to clean my kitchen while making an apple crisp with all of the leftover apples. The day started out as dark and dismal, and then the sky turned slate gray and the mist turned into rain. Frank and I went to the park to walk around in the mud as it became totally dark and cold. He does seem to be happiest when it's the most cold and wet and miserable, and I could still learn some things from him.
Saturday, November 11, 2006I started throwing paint down on this new commission of three green apples. The background will be done to match a pale cobalt blue tile, which winds up being very close to the teal backdrop I'm using as a reference for ambient light and reflections. It's fun to be working large again.
Friday, November 10, 2006Today I started mixing some colors, and spent most of the day working and reworking the new magazine ad.
Thursday, November 9, 2006I managed to finish the painting of green apples.
Click on the image to see a larger version.I started building the stretcher for a large canvas, for my next study of green apples.
Wednesday, November 8, 2006Today was amazingly dark and dismal, so I mixed some paint and looked at some things, but didn't get anything done. Happy birthday to Eric Pope, you silly old goat.
Tuesday, November 7, 2006I managed to get some work done on the new study of green apples. Tomorrow should see this almost finished.
Monday, November 6, 2006Today I met with the world-reknowned pop-artist Jeff Schaller to review some ideas for my ad campaign. This afternoon I started throwing some paint for a small study of green apples.
Sunday, November 5, 2006The painting of yellow tulips is indeed finished. Thanks to so many layers of adjustments and corrections, this is probably the heaviest painting I've ever done.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Saturday, November 4, 2006This painting is finished, I think, I'm not sure, I don't know. I'll see in the morning. The sun drops down behind the wooded hills earlier each day, incinerating the sky in a blaze of color, dark red, fading to purple. Everything feels unhinged now, everything that matters seems to be slipping away. The days grow shorter, the nights are darker and colder, and I feel like I'm a million miles away from everyone, everywhere. Frank and I are walking together by the light of the moon, and everything feels like it's upside down. It is as though a great breath is being held, the massive cold wave of winter is slowly rising just over the hills, just beyond the edge of the forest. I never feel like I'm ready for this, the darkness, the silence.
Friday, November 3, 2006I'm very close to being finished with this newest study of yellow tulips.
I'm noticing a certain kinetic and off-balance energy to the image I'm capturing of the sprawling bouquet; the skewed dynamic lines of the flowers and leaves seems to echo a certain unrest I have within me. People suggest that I should vent my emotions through my paintings. I know I disappoint most of them when I describe this work as little more than a reflex, just a job without anything deeper than merely throwing paint, and usually without really thinking very much. Maybe something I never noticed was how my work is revealing some aspect of a mental agitation that isn't apparent to me in my waking world. My bouquets of tulips used to be captured with grace and balance, now the studies seem to be about imbalance and dynamic tension. At one time I believed there was no aspect of what I do that had a shred of imagination or creativity. And then only a year or so ago I realized that I selectively observe, study and capture specific stages of how flowers and leaves will unfurl and flex and reach for the sun, so I am creating a snapshot of only certain aspects of the actual subject. By default of what I decide to use or discard, I suppose I am actually being somewhat creative. From this fleeting decision or indecision can be manifested a certain blueprint of my thoughts and emotions. Or not. I don't know, it makes my head hurt to think about it.
Thursday, November 2, 2006Today I started building up a surface on this newest study. I should be close to wrapping it up tomorrow.
But aside from all this, lately I've been starting to remember so many things from my childhood that some inner defense mechanism decided to blank out. Several friends of mine have been recommending self-help workshops for some time now. As soon as I starting doing research on my own, something inside me clicked, and suddenly I realized what a crucial task I had before me. Suddenly I'm seeing the people around me differently, realizing that someone I met has similar walls of protective insulation built within them. I'm disassembling myself, piece by piece, trying to deconstruct things back to the place where something within me was either created, or was so badly broken. Everyone has their own version of hell in their lives, and I sometimes have a hard time remembering if I was a happy child with a sense of comfort and well being. I can't help but wonder if these things are part of the reason why I'm alone here in this house, in this forest. Were there different choices I might have made, was there something I could have felt, or said, that might have resulted in a different outcome? I avoid thinking out loud most of the time, and so many things are occurring to me in the silence of the studio. Suddenly I see a cascade effect of similar behaviors that over the years have only tempered my resolution to defy certain sensitivities in an effort to maintain some sort of balance that has served me so well. I remember when I was very young, I realized that in the middle of a nightmare, I could reach up, and in the dream, pull my eyelids open, and in real life I would wake up, and the nightmare would be over. Suddenly I had conquered one of the simplest and most frightening challenges for a child, to terminate a nightmare at will. What else did I learn to turn off at will? At what point did I slam a door on trust? At what point are the nightmares of a child supposed to teach them something about themselves, and the world around them? I don't know, I don't know what I'm looking for, I have no idea what I might find next. Every day is something new. It feels like it's almost too much. I feel like I'm retracing footsteps to a place that few people have ever gone in the first place, and I'm going back. I'm not sure if I can do it, I really doubt I can do it alone, I'm not sure what else I can do.
Wednesday, November 1, 2006 The Day of the DeadI started throwing color down today, roughing everything in. The light is changing so much from day to day, everything looks different each afternoon.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006 Halloween DayI started mixing colors for yet another study of yellow tulips in a glass vase.
Monday, October 30, 2006The painting of yellow tulips is officially finished.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Sunday, October 29, 2006Just when I thought I might be hammering down the finish to this study, I didn't. Tomorrow will see the final tightening moves that will send this canvas hurtling into the darkness of the garage like a giant wet frisbee.
The clocks are shifted back today, and everything is now starting the crazy slide into the extreme darkness of winter, in only 2 short months.
Saturday, October 28, 2006This study of yellow tulips is coming down the home stretch. I should be done with this tomorrow, especially if the sun actually comes out for a change.
Friday, October 27, 2006Despite being a dark and dismal day, the study of yellow tulips is coming along. I have to admit, I took too long to get this bouquet out of the refrigerator, and the tulips aren't looking so great. This will be an odd painting, of crazily skewed and offset tulips.
Thursday, October 26, 2006I went to the dentist today, and met mom for lunch, and then came home and started throwing paint. Things are rough and rude, but started.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006I started mixing colors for yet another study of yellow tulips.
The show in Bethesda was fun, although quite cold and blustery. The season slammed shut without a fanfare, and the rain started falling on the last exhibitors to tear down. Several paintings found new homes in and around the DC area, and I saw many friends from the show circuit.
Yesterday I drove to New York City to meet a client and place another painting, and then I met up with my cousin Daniel for an evening of non-stop banter. So much to talk about, so much to catch up, the time is so short. In the early hours of Wednesday morning, it was good to finally be home.
Thursday, October 19, 2006I'm finished with the study of yellow tulips.
Click on the image to see a larger version.As a smart man, I'm refraining from starting on another painting with only one day before I'm leaving for my show in Bethesda.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006After three days of hammering away, I think I'm done with this newest study of yellow tulips. So much for the notion of a series of quick studies.
I'll have a final look in the morning and make sure.
Sunday, October 15, 2006I started throwing down paint for a new study of the same yellow tulips. I'm finding my stride again, summoning a certain stamina that sometimes escapes me. The momentum isn't as necessary to start the next painting as it is to finish the last one. Starting another painting is only a reflex, finishing the last one is a brutal and crucial trial of focus, brevity and panache.
Saturday, October 14, 2006I finally hammered out the finish of the new study of yellow tulips. The painting turned out nicely, I packed the tulips up and started mixing colors for another study of the same bouquet.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Friday, October 13, 2006The study of yellow tulips is almost finished.
Thursday, October 12, 2006I started throwing down paint on this newest study of yellow tulips. At one point in the afternoon, the sun was on the horizon, and broke through the clouds, and everything was lit up in a perfect orange glow. I had to take a break and stare at the colors in the forest, it was just too much.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006Today a shipment of bright yellow tulips arrived. I started mixing colors for what may be a series of quick studies of this bouquet.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006I managed to finish the study of a single red gala apple.
Click on the image to see a larger version.And today is my father's birthday. Happy birthday, Dad.
Monday, October 9, 2006I'm back from my weekend at the Bruce Museum, and starting on a commission for a study of a single red gala apple. I'm exhausted, but somehow I'm managing to make some progress on this piece.
Friday, October 6, 2006The second study of a pumpkin never happened, instead I'm getting ready for my show this weekend in Greenwich, Connecticut.
Tuesday, October 3, 2006Today I started and finished a small study of a pumpkin.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Monday, October 2, 2006I'm finally recovering from the busy and productive weekend. Not too long ago I was challenged to paint a pumpkin, so I was out running errands and found a pumpkin. I came home and started mixing colors, and tomorrow I will start a study of a pumpkin.
Sunday, October 1, 2006My first portrait model showed up today. I was ready to be humbled and crushed by the new challenge, but somehow I managed to throw down a fairly solid painting. I imagine that I may have actually learned how to paint in the past few years of hammering away at still-lifes. I'm excited to see what happens next.
Click on the image to see a larger version.On a side note, I should make an announcement to my vast website readership, that I now have openings for portrait and figure models. Aside from having a front row seat at a painting session, you can possibly learn some things about painting, about me, about life, about Frank, there's no telling what precious pearls of knowledge you may find here. If you're coming from outside this area, I can get you to and from the Philadelphia Airport, and I have a comfortable guest room. You get yourself here, and I'll paint. Email or call if you're interested.
Yesterday my show in Media was cold and wet and miserable. It was nice enough to be outside, and Frank definitely enjoyed himself.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006I threw down a few more strokes of paint before calling the study of sunflowers finished, and left for the day to retrieve my paintings from the furniture showroom in Georgetown.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Monday, September 25, 2006The new study of sunflowers is almost finished, I'll have a final look in the morning and see how it feels. It's a little hard to focus, the light is totally different with each passing day. The trees are letting more light through as everything is drying out, the angle of the sun is so strange, nothing feels the same from one day to the next.
I decided to take out an ad for portrait models, and immediately started getting responses. I'll start a new course of study and see where it takes me.
Friday, September 22, 2006I started the fall season by starting a new painting of sunflowers. As the year starts spiraling down to a close, I'm still turning another page on what else I can learn from the world around me.
If you find yourself hungering for yet more dramatization of the angst of a painter, see Summer 2006 for the previous season's struggles.
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