Previous issues:
Winter 2004
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.
Sunday, June 27, 2004A week later, and I still haven't started painting again. I'm coming down the home stretch of painting the studio, and the puppy is finally learning how to be a dog. If I stay up really late tonight, I should be able to wrap up the painting, as I'm overdue to put the studio back together.
I'm learning how to paddle a canoe on the lake, and I'm now prepared for Frank to spill the whole canoe over when he gets too excited about the geese that we're chasing. I've learned that Frank really can swim halfway across the lake, and that I really won't die if I'm suddenly swimming out from under a capsized canoe. I envy anyone that could have witnessed that event from the shore. Trying to master the J-stroke truly is an evasive art form. Leaning forward to pull the stroke seems to put more of the bow in the water, so the canoe cuts the water in more of a straight line, depending on how I release the stroke. It's all a delicate balance.
Frank has learned to sit, lie down, stay, wait, fetch and come, and he can catch a ball out of the air. He's discovered the joy of cat litter and all the treasures to be found in it, and I've figured out how to set up a booby trap of a rubber band and a stack of cans to alert me that he's crossed the forbidden threshold. He hates when I get on a ladder, and we're working on his whining with patience and a spray bottle. He's understanding the concept of going outside to do business, although we're still trying to discern the whining for attention with a genuine request to go outside. Without any shows for the past two weekends, I feel my world has spiraled down to the drama between myself and a cat and a puppy. Working on a painting again will seem easy compared to all of this. Spring is now over, and my next painting session will mark the beginning of summer.
Life here in the woods really is spectacular. The other day Heather and I were having breakfast, and I turned to see what had caught Schwartz's attention. Walking by the kitchen window was a large doe, slowly striding across the lawn. In the afternoon the light from the lake is reflecting in the trees, and on the studio ceiling, like an expensive Hollywood lighting effect. I go to sleep at night hearing the chorus of frogs from the forest. Day after day, time stands still.
Read on...to Summer of 2004
Friday, June 18, 2004I haven't been painting at all this week while trying to get caught up on other odds and ends around the property. The show in Chicago was fun and several paintings found new homes. Frank and Heather had fun as well. Sometimes having a puppy makes me feel like I'm about to go insane, and other times it seems like it might just work out. Tonight Schwartz was attacking a large plastic drop cloth I had on the floor, and I realized that he doesn't respond to "no" like Frank does. Actually there was nothing I could do that would make him stop running and sliding across the plastic like an idiot. Freak cat.
Bit by bit the walls of the studio are getting painted, and the room is starting to really look like something.
Thursday, June 10, 2004I'm finished with the painting, and throwing bags, supplies and dog into the van and leaving for Chicago.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Wednesday, June 9, 2004I started throwing some paint down on this new painting of white tulips against a dark red background. I'll have to finish this painting tomorrow, because we'll be leaving for Chicago as soon as Heather's train arrives tomorrow night.
Tuesday, June 8, 2004I started mixing colors today for a mid-sized painting of white tulips against a dark red background.
Everything is slowly going back to normal after the Rittenhouse show weekend. We took Frank along to the park for the entire show, and he was quite the little trooper. We had Richard Harrington and the newlyweds Jeffrey Cannon and Paige Young Cannon staying with us for the past few days. Richard brought along a pair of canoes, so yesterday I was paddling around the lake with Frank.
Life is good.
Monday, May 31, 2004 Memorial DayI finished the painting of white tulips against a dark red background. It's a solid piece, and I'm glad to be done.
Click on the image to see a larger version.Today Frank discovered the lake and the thrill of water. I tried to teach him some different swimming strokes, but all he wanted to do was doggie paddle. Go figure.
Sunday, May 30, 2004I'm all but finished with this painting of white tulips. I'll go over it tomorrow and tighten things up and call it finished. I feel like I'm hallucinating from fatigue. Frank is getting bigger with each passing moment, pretty soon he'll be bigger than us.
Saturday, May 29, 2004I continued to paint, between stopping to make sure Frank wasn't peeing or pooping on the floor or destroying anything with his teeth or chasing Schwartz. And of course trying to let him know that he's welcome in our world despite him having me up at five this morning.
Friday, May 28, 2004 First Day with FrankI managed to get started on throwing paint down on this new large canvas of white tulips against a dark red background. So far I've managed to stay ahead of Frank's energy enough to keep him run into the ground, but I almost ran myself into the ground while doing it. It's a very strange thing, having this little animal scampering around the studio.
Thursday, May 27, 2004Instead of getting any painting done, I spent all day taking care of errands all over two counties.
And then I got a dog, and Frank shall be thy name.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004I finished the painting of yellow tulips on a dark yellow background.
Click on the image to see a larger version.I immediately started mixing colors for another large canvas of white tulips, this time against a dark red background. Tomorrow I should be slamming some paint down to get started on things.
Tuesday, May 25, 2004I think I'm finished with this painting. I'll look tomorrow and make the final decision.
Monday, May 24, 2004Of course the painting isn't finished yet, and to make matters worse I got stung on the face this morning by a wasp. I was high on the ladder washing my windows when a viscous little black wasp came out of nowhere and attacked my face. Damn that hurt, it was like getting whacked with a hammer. Research told me that numerous stings could induce a fatal reaction to the venom, so I decided to stop washing windows until I have a chance to start earlier in the morning when it's still cool, and when I'm armed with many full cans of wasp and hornet killer.
Sunday, May 23, 2004I continued to work on the large painting of white tulips. Things are coming together nicely, and tomorrow should see this painting finished.
Saturday, May 22, 2004I started on a large painting of white tulips on the same dark yellow background. I managed to mix colors and cover the entire canvas by the end of the day. Tomorrow should see this continue to take shape.
Friday, May 21, 2004I finished the painting of white tulips against a dark yellow background.
Click on the image to see a larger version.When I needed a short break from the painting session, I went out to the yard and cut down one of the dead trees. Crash, boom, yeehaw. And this morning the giant snapping turtle was making his way across the lawn, pausing to raise his dinosaur-looking head up high, looking this way and that, to get some perspective. I went out and poked him with a stick a few times, just to say hello. After a half hour he then turned around and slowly made his way back down the hill to the lake, apparently not finding anything of interest up here. Schwartz didn't find him to be very interesting either.
I, on the other hand, am endlessly thrilled by it all.
Thursday, May 20, 2004I started slamming paint down on this newest painting of white tulips against a dark yellow background. Even as I start, the tulips are wilting badly. I tore through the Chester county phone book and managed to locate more tulips. I'll be picking up a few bouquets tomorrow morning, so once this is finished I should be immediately diving into another painting.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004I'm back to work in the studio, mixing paint for my next large painting of white tulips against a dark yellow background. Tomorrow I'll start throwing some paint around.
The weekend in Bethesda was nice, and several paintings found new homes.
Friday, May 14, 2004I finished the new painting of white tulips on a light blue background, and shazam, what a great painting.
Click on the image to see a larger version.Right now I'm racing to pack and do some final preparation before grabbing Heather at the train stop and cruising down to Bethesda.
Thursday, May 13, 2004I started on a smaller painting of white tulips against a light blue background. I'll have to pull this together by the end of tomorrow's session, because this weekend is the Bethesda Fine Arts Festival.
On a side note, Jeff Schaller and his wife Des just welcomed Nicholas Allen Schaller into the world on Tuesday the eleventh. The miracle of life is a wonderful thing.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004I finished the painting of white tulips.
Click on the image to see a larger version.If you've been tuning in to the live studio cam lately I'm sure you've noticed that I'm painting the studio. It's a huge job, priming and prepping the woodwork of the 20 foot tall windows, just to get started. It's amazing when I'm up on a ladder working, and looking down, and realizing how freaking huge this room is.
On a side note, happy birthday to my brother Daniel and his wife Lisa, who share a birthday through some bizarre and freakish twist of fate.
Tuesday, May 11, 2004The painting of tulips is finished, although I'll have one more final look tomorrow to make sure.
Four more little fuzzy goslings are now following their parents around the lake. At some point this thrill I have over these things will wear off, or maybe not.
Monday, May 10, 2004I'm almost finished with the painting of white tulips against a light blue background. Tomorrow should see this piece finished.
Sunday, May 9, 2004 Mother's DayI continued to develop this new painting of white tulips against a light blue background. Tomorrow should see some things really starting to take shape, and hopefully coming close to completion. It's hard to stay focused on painting when there are so many distractions on all sides. As soon as I woke up this morning, I saw a hummingbird buzzing around the flowers right outside the window. The two goose couples and their respective little broods of goslings came back after disappearing yesterday morning when I mowed the grass around the lake. Another goose is now sitting on the same nest that the other families used, tending her eggs for yet another hatching. I guess it's like a time share thing. And then I saw a massive snapping turtle wallowing around in the mud along the edge of the lake.
Today's session ended early when my brother Daniel showed up with my mother for her first tour of the house and property.
Saturday, May 8 2004I started slamming down some paint on this newest painting of white tulips against a light blue background.
Friday, May 7, 2004I started mixing colors for a large painting of white tulips against a light blue background. I should be throwing some paint around tomorrow.
On a side note, another goose couple has spawned five fuzzy little goslings at some point in the past 24 hours. It's so quiet here I wind up watching and keeping track of these things.
Thursday, May 6, 2004I finished the new painting of three red chili peppers.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Wednesday, May 5, 2004I started throwing paint down on another visitation of my chili peppers commission from over a month ago. I should see this painting finished tomorrow.
Yesterday I bought a lawn mower, and managed to get most of the lawn finished by dark. There is a different realization of owning a place when you find yourself walking over every square foot of a property in concentric circles.
At last weekend's show in Richmond quite a few paintings found new homes.
Thursday, April 29, 2004Somehow this week just blasted by, and I never managed to get any painting done. Monday was dark and rainy, on Tuesday I planted a tree and did yard work, yesterday our new refrigerator arrived and I continued to do yard work. I also received an acceptance letter to the Armonk Outdoor Art Show yesterday. Today I spent the day loading the van and preparing for this weekend's show. The two Canadian geese that have adopted the lake as their own now have four little fuzzy yellow goslings. We're heading to Richmond tomorrow, and we'll be home again late Sunday night.
Sunday, April 25, 2004After several starts and stops, I'm finally finished with this new painting of three bartlett pears.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Thursday, April 22, 2004I continued to work on the new painting of three bartlett pears. I should see this painting come very close to being finished tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004I started another painting of three bartlett pears. In a brash exercise of artistic angst and audacity, I moved another of the three pears forward. We shall see what happens tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004I finished the painting of three bartlett pears, the first painting finished in the new house.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
Monday, April 19, 2004I continued to work on the painting of bartlett pears. It's just like doing a back flip. Only when your feet are properly set can you get the best launch, you arch your back and then kick your feet forward, and only with perfect balance and follow through can you land squarely back on your feet, and not just land on your face. It's just like starting a painting properly, with a solid start, your feet solidly on the ground, the subject comfortably occupying its space, with a solid composition, good start, and then kick your feet forward by carrying through with moving plenty of paint onto the canvas, and only with continually adjusting and adapting and balancing each step of the painting can you get your feet back under you, and see the painting resolved with solid footing. Of course I can't do a back flip, and I sure as hell can't finish this painting as easily as doing a back flip. I'll hopefully finish this painting tomorrow, unless I wind up landing on my face.
Sunday, April 18, 2004Like a child running with scissors, I plunged myself into this new painting of bartlett pears. At first I was having a hard time figuring out how to work with the light in the new house. The living room where I have my studio set up has twenty foot tall windows, from ceiling to floor, and twelve feet across. The view of the lake and the forest is breathtaking, but by mid afternoon there is so much light flooding through that shadows are completely lit up with the glare. I have three massive six foot square shades pulled over most of the windows, and that cuts the light down enough so I can get some good strong shadows.
For some reason I made some great progress on this painting today, despite it being my first day of painting in six weeks. I should see this painting all but finished by the end of tomorrow's session.
Friday, April 16, 2004Ah yes, finally back to work. After days upon days of projects and distractions I've tied up almost all of the loose ends, aside from the 2.6 acres of property that's ready to spring to life and chaos as soon as the warm weather penetrates this dark forest. I started mixing colors for the commission of bartlett pears. I've had a row of pears waiting for me to start painting since last week, and today I decided those pears were ready to be retired. I set them in a row on top of a log on the edge of the dense dark forest on the edge of my yard. By mid afternoon one of them had disappeared. Absconded by a wild thing, I'm sure. On Monday of this week I retrieved the final load of stuff from the Brewery, and turned off the lights for the last time, and dropped off the huge ring of keys I've been carrying around for 20 years. Wriggling out of that dull and loose fitting skin, I emerged shiny and new into the cool dark night.
Last week I received a rejection letter from the Madison show, and yesterday I saw on the Long's Park website that I've been accepted to that show. It all just comes and goes.
I have a delivery to make tomorrow, but hopefully I'll be slinging some paint by late afternoon.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004It's been several days since I've been settling into the new house. Heather has been at her apartment in the city while she's back at work during the week, so I've been here alone, pacing around, from room to room. I can't stop standing in front of the windows and staring at the forest and the lake. Seeing the lake spread out below the house gives me a strange sense of vertigo, like the floor isn't really level, and I could fall over at any minute. I've been listening to some fairly high voltage music on XM radio just to combat the intense silence. Hopefully I'll be set up to paint this coming weekend, and I already have some commissioned projects on my plate. Schwartz is getting settled pretty easily, although he gets totally freaked whenever he realizes how huge and vast his world has become with several rooms and all of the great outdoors.
Tomorrow I'm heading back to Mount Joy to retrieve another truckload of stuff. Walking into the old studio gives me a crushing sense of emptiness. With no cat to greet me, it's just a big and painfully vacant room. It's hard to think as I'm packing boxes, with all of the memories of the different people I've been and all the people I've known flooding back to me. In the past twenty years I've gone from being a young man to a much older man, and every part of me has been weathered and tempered. I've been looking forward to moving for the past year, and this optimism for the future is the only thing that helps me ignore the sense of loss of who I was, that I'm leaving behind in that empty room.
I should be all but finished with moving out by the time I return on Friday morning. Since returning from Florida I've received acceptance letters to the Bethesda Fine Arts Festival in May and the Port Clinton Arts Festival in August.
Friday, March 26, 2004Yesterday afternoon we got back from our long, zigzagging drive home. Immediately I'm putting out fires that have arisen in the three weeks we've been on the road, while simultaneously wrapping up my affairs and packing boxes for the big move to the new house. In the morning, the entire painting studio and office and computer system will be dismantled, to be resurrected in the house in the woods on the hill over the lake on the outskirts of the town of West Chester, Pennsylvania. The idea of moving my entire world is daunting and overwhelming, but step by step everything should be under control within a few days.
Monday, March 22, 2004Suddenly things have become completely surreal. We drove all day, from Orlando to the tiny town of Marion, in northwest Alabama. The final hour of the drive was through the pristine rolling fields that went on forever, lit up like gold in the light of the setting sun. Marion is one of the few towns that Ulysses S. Grant decided not to burn to the ground during his campaign, so just about all of the original houses of the town are still intact from the early 1800s. We arrived at the client's huge old house, and were immediately shown to the neighboring guesthouse. The guesthouse is a huge mansion, towering over the forest. We walked through a long maze of bedrooms furnished with antiques to the one bedroom that opened out to its own wing of the house, with yet another sitting room and kitchen. Suddenly Heather and I were alone in this vast and huge building, and I started exploring the other wing of the first floor. I found myself getting dizzy in the majestic living room, trying to take in everything. Heather pointed out that the wrappers on all of the soaps and toiletries had an insignia with the name of the house on them, showing they were custom made for this place. We just got back from dinner at the house of a neighbor of the client, and we gave a private showing of paintings, and now Heather and I are back here in the guesthouse. This place just goes on forever. I'm so tired that I'm shaking, and this whole place is just freaking us out. I'm going to get some sleep, and finish our private show in the morning before we leave to continue our trip north, and home.
If you find yourself hungering for yet more dramatization of the angst of a painter, see Winter 2004 for the previous season's struggles.
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