Previous issues:
Summer 2007 | Spring 2007 | Winter 2006/07
Fall 2006 | 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.
Saturday, December 22, 2007 Winter SolsticeThe study of red tulips is indeed finished, and on this shortest and darkest day of the year I've managed to find some brilliantly bright white and color.
Click on the image to see a larger version.In the past three months I finished barely a handful of paintings, but I spent so much more time and energy examining the content of what I'm doing. On top of short days, November proved to be the north american version of the rainy season, with endless days of fog and darkness and rain. With this newest study I'm learning some exciting things about the power of white, both in light and in brightness. I continue to be endlessly challenged by the people in my life, both near and far. I will start seeing the days grow longer, and I will continue to search out that place that lies just beyond comfort in what I do. Today I throw my bags together and head out to visit my father for a few days in warm and sunny Florida. I'll be back soon, and ready to get back to throwing some paint.
Read on...to Winter of 2007/08
Friday, December 21, 2007Yesterday I managed to almost finish the study of red tulips, and I would have seen this piece finished and signed if I weren't sidetracked by trying to finish a new magazine ad layout before today's deadline. I did manage to put the painting on the easel for a few minutes before sunset, just to work a few details, but the light was too dim to make any big and final decisions.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007Suddenly the new red tulips study is snapping into shape. My challenge is to see the spread of leaves as a fragmented mass, and not only a scattered pattern. I'm seeing something that evades my ability to capture, in how the pattern of light across the leaves can sculpt an arc in space. Tomorrow should see this study coming down the home stretch, and possibly close to completion.
I have a few thoughts on the upcoming holiday. When was the last time there was actually a holy day in the United States? What ever happened to the modern western world that there is almost no spirituality, no time to actually pause and reflect on how some ritual we perform can actually touch something inside us? New Year's Eve has more potential to bring people to pause and reflect, and to feel some greater force at work as the machinery of time turns over, and more because of it being a reminder of our own mortality than any actual milepost or measurement of what we've become. The legacy of a seemingly holy and mysterious event two thousand years ago has lost focus as it resonates year after year. Aside from the leap of faith that the events were of a divine origin, the story could be kept alive, even if only of a story from a time when such simple and profound things could be such strong compass headings for a humanity that sought a higher purpose, and a deeper meaning. We could refer to the revelation of answers, when people felt lost, and looked to the stars for signs, and when people actually needed a heading to answer the troubling mysteries that challenged us. The dark unknown is what keeps children awake at night, and we carry that fear of what lies beyond what we know throughout our lives. To believe that comfort comes from faith in what comes from above winds up being in the form of a bearded man dressed in red to deliver happiness and fullness in the form of toys. When the myth of Santa is dispelled, suddenly the magic of the spirit is gone. All the pagan symbols soon replace the cartoon characters, and our earliest memories of the holiday are the smells of the glue and paper decorations we assembled in grade school. Dreams of Christmas include snippets of the Grinch's heart swelling to three times its normal size, or of Yukon Cornelius tasting his ice axe with disappointment. Every time we try to find anything more, there is no reference other than even more symbolic rituals to represent some ever more abstract aspect of something as evasive as actual spirituality. I'm challenged to find an answer. As the years go by, I continue to find a winding path in the silence of this studio. We are all empty vessels, and we shall all strive to fill the empty vessel of our lives with meaning. This is what we do when we're alive, it is the natural and innate reflex of being human. To feel lost is part of our nature, to ponder the mysteries of what lies beyond our short lives is what makes us who we are. The answers don't come from above, they come from within, we are the light, we are the answer. As simple as looking into the eyes of an infant, with our eyes and our hearts open we can understand so much more. Maybe in these basic building blocks of awareness we can understand that within us is the magic, and the warmth of being together with family and friends is the truest celebration of everything we really need in this life.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007After a few starts and stops I began throwing down paint on a new study of red tulips. Things are a bit haphazard, and I have yet to even get the surface started on this. No part of it feels easy, but I guess that's how it's supposed to be.
Monday, December 17, 2007Today I built some canvases, and started mixing colors and thinking about things for my upcoming study of red tulips. Tomorrow things will start to happen.
Sunday, December 16, 2007A final look at what was supposed to be a finished painting wound up turning into another three hours of work. Now I can safely say that I've learned all I need to learn from this study of eleven green apples. By the end of yesterday's session, things were becoming fairly tight and polished, so today I spent some time backing things off a bit. Some curves were too smoothly articulated, so I scraped out a bunch of stuff and then blocked in some simpler and stronger descriptions. I believe "stuff" is a technical term used to describe any number of different compositional elements.
Click on the image to see a larger version.I have a pile of new canvases to build for the next series of studies, and I'm looking forward to what will happen tomorrow.
Saturday, December 15, 2007This new study of eleven green apples just about done. I'll have another look tomorrow and be sure.
Friday, December 14, 2007The study of eleven green apples is now coming into focus, and tomorrow will be spent tightening up some of the edges and building up some more surface. There is a good chance this painting will be finished tomorrow, or at least very close to finished.
At the grocery store I picked up a bouquet of red tulips, so I'm excited to dive into a new tulips painting.
Thursday, December 13, 2007This morning the rain was freezing in the trees, and the forest looked as though it was made of glass. So many people in other parts of the country are suffering from the disaster of ice building up on every surface, and taking down trees and powers lines from the weight. However, here in West Chester, Pennsylvania, it was just perfect and lovely.
The study of eleven green apples continues. I finally managed to cover this entire canvas with some serious amounts of paint, so now things are really underway. It's an interesting detachment at work when I paint a subject like this. I have to keep my eye and my mind moving over the whole surface, and this is an exercise in working an entire canvas without ever fixating on any single aspect of the composition. At a certain point I manage to get into a mental state that feels like nothing more than a consistent flow of observation, measurement and execution, and almost as simple as reflex and response.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007I continued to throw more paint down on this newest study of eleven apples. It's good to be working again, and the sun even made a brief appearance at one point in the middle of the session. Tomorrow will see this piece start to tighten up and begin to look like something, and then I can grapple with trying to resolve and coordinate so many different random elements. On and on, it's always an adventure.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007Today I started throwing paint down on this new study of eleven green apples. It feels like a huge painting, and every single square inch of it feels like it will be substantial and challenging. It started easily enough, as everything is rough and rude, and I only just managed to cover the whole surface before the dark and cloudy day turned into a dark and foggy night. I put off painting while waiting for the sun for long enough. The sun will not be coming out again, but I need to be painting again, even though my shadows are all dull and colorless. Something will happen, it always does.
Thursday, December 6, 2007After almost a week away from the easel I started mixing colors for a large study of something green. I've been arranging some apples, and I'm thinking about a nice prime number, something like an eleven.
The first snow fell yesterday, muting the sun into a dark and tarnished silver while I was all over the wilds of New Jersey to show some work. Today I was accepted to my first show of the new year, and for the first time I'll be exhibiting in Atlanta, Georgia at the Atlanta Dogwood Festival. As we begin the plunge into the coldest and darkest part of winter, I'm already planning for where I'll be to enjoy the first warm days of spring.
Friday, November 30, 2007Today I decided to start and finish a small study of a pomegranate. I'll try to get a good picture of this when the sun isn't fading from yellow to red in the final minutes of the session. It's an interesting subject, with just the right amount of curves and angles, and a nicely saturated quality of color.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Thursday, November 29, 2007The study of the coffee cup is indeed finished, and I'm indeed out of practice for this thing that I do. I'm not sure if it's how to see, how to understand, or how to capture, but something is falling short. I'll continue looking, and maybe something will start to work. Some day I may actually learn how to paint.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007For another day I carved away at this small study of a single coffee cup. At this early point I'm just feeling the paint, and exploring varying shades of some fairly muted and muddy colors. Things aren't snapping into place, but going through he motions feels like something, like a meditation of some sort. Tomorrow I will have to call this study resolved and move on.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007After weeks and weeks of time off, I'm finally back to work. Today I started a small study of a coffee cup and saucer. Everything feels strange, after so many consecutive days of fog and rain and darkness, to finally see the sun again. Of course mixing colors feels strange as well, and the paint had a funny smell, and the music sounded odd, and even my clothes felt a little weird. Needless to say, the sense of displacement was deep and profound.
North Carolina last weekend was amazingly bright and sunny, and it seemed to only grow dark again when we crossed the Mason-Dixon line on our drive north. Once I'm warmed up on some small studies I'll be excited to get started on some large and ambitious tulip studies again.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007Endless days of rain and darkness have totally trounced any plans I might have had for painting for the past week. I guess this is typical November weather. Right now I'm racing out the door to drive to North Carolina to spend some time with my brother and his family. I shall return on Saturday night, and maybe on Sunday I will be able to start painting again. We shall see.
Thursday, November 15, 2007Suddenly the week is blasting by. Day after day of rain and fog has the studio looking as dark and murky as the lake under the steel gray November sky. Yesterday I was on the road to deliver another painting to a client in Washington, DC, and today I put together a new magazine ad layout. If the sun comes out tomorrow, I may start painting again.
Monday, November 12, 2007I spent today in New York City, placing a few more paintings into a good home overlooking Broadway. The crush of humanity is a stark contrast to the serenity and seclusion of my haven here in the woods. It's nice to get some variety, just to ponder a few more colors of the world around me.
Sunday, November 11, 2007For some reason, I don't believe this rooster study will ever be finished, but I did decide to stop working on it, and I'm giving some thought to starting another one. This won't be a rooster phase, but just a need to figure some things out.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Saturday, November 10, 2007For two days I've been revisiting the rooster study. After a chorus of outcry and my own ongoing observation, I've decided to find a little more depth and saturation in some of the areas of color. At any point it feels like it could be done, and at any point I can so easily keep working. Strange thing, those dots.
Thursday, November 8, 2007The study of three apples is indeed finished.
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Wednesday, November 7, 2007For three days I've been trying to finish what was supposed to be a fast and easy study of green apples. For three days I've been struggling with the glare of the yellow sun that screeches through the studio in the late afternoon, lighting everything up with gold. It's all so beautiful, but I can't make any progress on this painting. Tomorrow will be the day I either finish this, or I wind up reworking everything with more and more and more layers of paint. So much for fast and easy, maybe next time.
Monday, November 5, 2007The study of two apples is indeed finished.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Sunday, November 4, 2007For some reason, I didn't feel as though I had accomplished very much by the end of yesterday's session. However, in the fresh new light of today, I could see that I had indeed made some headway. I carefully scraped out and swapped one color after another, defining the shapes and reflections, and before I knew it, it was finished. Some things are really rough and nasty, but for some reason it all feels right to me. I'll have one more look in the morning just to be sure.
Saturday, November 3, 2007I proceeded with great thought and premeditation, and wound up getting very little done on this new study of two green apples.
Friday, November 2, 2007 All Souls DayI started throwing paint on a giant vertical canvas to study two green apples. I'm not sure why I'm still studying two green apples, you would think I've learned a good enough amount of information after only several hundred studies of green apples. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I'll just keep painting and see.
Thursday, November 1, 2007 All Saints DayI started and finished a small study of two green apples. This is a warm-up for what will be a giant canvas of the same subject tomorrow. I finally shot pictures of the past 4 paintings, and I'll be getting them posted in the next few hours, if all goes well.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007 All Hallow's EveToday I finished the commission of three golden apples, after bringing it most of the way to completion by the end of yesterday's session. I started today by not doing anything at all, but just looking and studying all the things that didn't need to be done. In the name of efficiency, I'm attempting to accomplish more articulation with less marks, or at least have it look like there are less marks. The contrasts I found yesterday were rounded off to create more light within the shadows today. The study could have been finished before I even started today, but something about it being a commission made me believe that it should have a bit more sophistication in the handling of the shifting tones of light across to the dark. I'm tempted to throw down another study of the same golden apples, just so I see how it feels to set the brushes down once it reaches that magical point where all my observation is evident in some big simple movements of color. I started mixing some colors and looking at some things. I'm not sure what I'm doing next, but tomorrow I will definitely find out.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Monday, October 29, 2007After a week of dismal grey days and endless rain, the sun is shining strongly, and I'm throwing some paint again. I started work on an odd sized commission of three golden apples. It all feels so familiar, but in some ways it also feels so very fresh and new.
The trees have been stripped of most of their leaves in the wind and rain, and now the cold snap will quickly bring a colorful fall to a close. The light in the studio is so much stronger now, and I'm finally getting used to the painting day ending right about the time most people are driving home from their day jobs. I'm excited about tomorrow, to see what happens next.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007Almost a week later and all the dust is finally settled. The show in Bethesda was terrific fun, and many paintings found new homes. I saw so many friends from the show circuit, and after the show everyone scattered to every corner of the country to regroup until next spring. It's such a familiar fading feeling as the show season draws to a close, suddenly the deadlines are over, and all roads are open. In some ways, this is where the adventure begins.
Today I prepared an odd sized canvas for an odd sized commission. If the golden apples have turned golden enough by tomorrow, I shall be throwing some paint to get this party started.
Thursday, October 18, 2007I started and finished another small study of the same two pears, just to see what happens. I'm still not sure what happens, but I did it anyway.
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Wednesday, October 17, 2007Finally after more than enough angst and frustration, the new study of two pears is finished. Just when it's almost easy, the pears suddenly change from green to yellow, and all the dark reds flare up to brilliant orange. Suddenly the paint is as thick as Wayne Thiebaud cake icing, and there is no chance at all of this painting being dry in time to go with me to Bethesda this weekend. I'm reminded of how difficult it all is, and how little I really know about painting. I think I'm finally figuring out some things about it all, and I may actually be able to paint someday.
Click on the image to see a larger version.I immediately started and finished a tiny study of these same two pears, just to see if I can't make more sense of it all in miniature. Maybe it's something, maybe it's not something. We shall see.
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Tuesday, October 16, 2007Almost.
Monday, October 15, 2007I spent yesterday on the road taking care of some business stuff, and today I'm back at it, furiously slamming paint down on this new study of bartlett pears. Suddenly it seems as though I can't get any closer to resolving this piece, just circling around and around as the paint gets thicker and thicker. Tomorrow should see this piece resolved, or maybe not.
Saturday, October 13, 2007The new study is finished. It's an exciting piece, but I started careening on the edge of losing objectivity as I carved out the finish.
Click on the image to see a larger version.I immediately started mixing colors and throwing down paint for a giant study of two bartlett pears. I'll see if I can continue my current series of the study of depth and atmosphere with this difficult subject.
Friday, October 12, 2007This new study is almost finished, but I had to stop myself from plunging ahead without proper observation and consideration. I'm reminded of the figure studies I did in art school, in white and black pencil on gray paper. Etching in the white of the background in the triangle formed by the bend of an elbow would create more form in the unrendered gray of the figure. Defining the negative space would define the positive space by default of the nature of the focus of consideration. The more you look and see, the more you can understand, and every mark can support the form and space. Of course I'm being accused of being a graphic illustrator as my marks are less the product of my hand than composite elements toward cultivated depth and atmosphere. I'm straddling several motives in this new series of works, so we'll see where I wind up.
Thursday, October 11, 2007Today I put down the foundation for another atmospheric study of green apples. I'm excited to see how this piece comes together tomorrow. It's been raining for days now, sometimes falling so hard that I wake up to a rushing roar on the roof. Suddenly the leaves are coming down quickly, and the forest is growing brighter with each passing day.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007Today was exciting, as I took this study of green apples in a bold new direction. I managed to reduce the veils of atmosphere and light into one level of a patchwork of varying colors, over top of a more traditional framework of form and structure. The underlying first resolution of color provided a good departure point to experiment with some interesting layers of colors, with some pushing the light, and others pushing the shadow. A random pattern of gray over the entire surface almost appears to be a trick of shifting color, despite the fact that there is no variation in the color relationships. It's hard to see, as though I'm standing too close to a tv set, and only seeing the pixelated points of color. My work typically snaps together at a distance, and this piece requires a little more of a leap of perception to see how it all ties together into a fairly cohesive and realistic image. I'm excited to try another similar study tomorrow, and see what else I can learn.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007I'm back from the weekend in Greenwich, Connecticut, where several more paintings found good homes. Upon my return, I immediately started preparing a large canvas for my next painting. Yesterday I figured out how to mix my background colors with an cordless drill, with a paint mixer attachment. Suddenly I'm able to make huge color decisions without wearing down my arm with endless whisking with a palette knife. Today I started throwing down paint on a new simple study of three green apples. I have some ideas of a direction I'd like to take this study, and we'll see what happens.
Friday, October 5, 2007The new study of mixed apples is indeed finished.
Click on the image to see a larger version.I'm throwing my bags in the truck, and leaving for this weekend's show in Greenwich, Connecticut.
Thursday, October 4, 2007Yesterday and today were spent building up the surface and defining the colors. I keep reaching and passing certain points of completion, circling around and around the surface resolving all of the different areas. Today I spent more time looking than painting, just to make sure I did just enough to tie it together, but not enough to push it too far. For the first time I stopped myself short of making mud, as most of the paint was setting up but still not dry, and I wanted to work in some more color without resurfacing the entire canvas. I inadvertently started learning about the process of scumbling, of dragging a wet brush across an almost dry surface. It will be interesting to see how this dries, as some of the layers are of the same color, but different qualities of application. I imagine with several weeks of working on one painting I could build a fairly lively surface this way, trading the wet brushes for the sticky brushes.
In other news, the brilliant young London painter Michael Lang just made the announcement that he is indeed pregnant. I'm just relieved that those skin-tight pants he always wears didn't impair his abilities. My thoughts and prayers are with him and the charming Miss Dean.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007Today I started throwing down paint on a giant study of the same three mixed apples. It's almost fun to work large again, although it truly does take a huge amount of effort. It's a nice challenge to work three completely different ranges of color for each apple on this piece, while still having them tied together with a similar sense of light and atmosphere. In the final minutes of today's session, everything was starting to really snap together. I'm excited to get back to work tomorrow.
Sunday, September 30, 2007The study of three apples is finished.
Click on the image to see a larger version.At one point in the afternoon, I almost dared to stop working on it while edges were still undefined and everything felt like a composite of points of reference that didn't really unify anything. After several more hours of carving out edges and resolving rough areas, I felt that I beat some of the life out of this piece. I pondered the notion that an incomplete and unresolved painting creates a certain dialogue with the viewer, even if things don't sit well, it engages an involvement with the eye. Of course what I consider to be finish and polish might still be seen as rude and crude to most people, so maybe I sell myself short on believing that I painted the life out of this subject. As before, I'm going to try it again, and this time I'll try to bail out right at the sweet spot.
Saturday, September 29, 2007Today I started working on a study of a red apple, a yellow apple and a green apple. I've never done something like this before, mixing three different apples together. As I continue to recover from my allergies, I'm basking in a blistering hotbed of artistic creativity and audacity here in the forest. Lately I find myself returning again and again to the idea of asking people to find it within themselves to not define themselves by what they've done, but to explore what else they might be able to do. Yesterday, I was not a person that would paint three different colored apples, yet today I'm a different person. I was tempted to line them up in the same order as the lights in a traffic signal, but I decided that red should separate the complimentary and analogous colors. Of course the notion that we each have a certain "nature" of behavior might dictate that dogs will be dogs and cats will be cats, and non confrontational people will always take a passive route, and artists that carry the weight of their own imagined legacy might never be free of the obligation to serve a greater purpose than to merely explore and communicate.
I'm excited to see what happens tomorrow.
Friday, September 28, 2007When the sky is overcast in a certain way, my windows become invisible to birds. This usually happens only once a year, and I'll hear a few birds whack against the glass throughout the day. Every time they would be stunned, wake up on the deck, get their bearings and fly off. This morning one bird smacked the glass harder than usual, and I watched it shudder and grow still. I went out to find its little neck was broken. I solemnly picked it up and apologized, and I returned it to the forest. The sky grew bright, and the windows became visible again. I haven't been painting all week, in the beginning it was to finish my new magazine ad layout, but quickly I succumbed to seasonal allergies. Aching all over and feverish, unable to sleep or breath without coughing, I spent the week taking it easy, tweaking details on the website, and brainstorming some new ideas. When I was very little, maybe three or four years old, I used to crawl under my father's desk and wrap my little fingers around the plug to his desk lamp. With it pulled halfway out of the socket, I could just touch the blades of the plug enough to feel an amazing vibrating jolt through my hand. I remember doing this all the time, fascinated with this strange sensation of mild electrocution. For some reason I thought about this while I was mixing some colors this afternoon. Tomorrow I'll be starting something, I think it's time. I'm either used to feeling ill, or I'm getting better. Or maybe I'm just hungry for the thrill of mild electrocution.
Sunday, September 23, 2007 Autumnal EquinoxThe day and night pivot on a fulcrum, for a fleeting moment in perfect balance, until everything starts leaning toward the deep and seemingly endless darkness that will be winter.
I celebrated this first day of fall by slamming down a quick and tiny study of two bartlett pears, and taking a moment to enjoy some food, some music, the golden light of the day, and some time spent with Frank running around in big circles like some kind of wild animal.
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If you find yourself hungering for yet more dramatization of the angst of a painter, see Summer 2007 for the previous season's struggles.
