Painting
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A long time ago I promised myself that I’d one day return to landscape painting. Have you ever made a promise to yourself? You gotta keep it! A couple weeks ago I bought a French easel, stocked it up with good brushes and paints and took it for a spin in the local landscape. I…
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One of my favorite things to do is to read the Goings On section of the About Town page in the New Yorker. In this week’s issue, I came across the word soubrette in a description of an actor’s role in an Off Broadway play. Loving new words, I looked it up and discovered that…
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I remember reading a story about Jackson Pollock going into a house where someone had one of his paintings and he insisted on making corrections to it. Apparently that may not have actually happened, but it always stuck with me because I feel the same way. Sometimes there are errors that I simply didn’t see…
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Last time I saw an angel I was out on Shore Drive right by the lake. I looked over to a stretch of houses overlooking the water and she just flitted by on her bike. Wish I had a camera, but all I have is my memory to paint from.
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Every now and then we all need a makeover. A refresh. A reboot. A return to who we are. It happened just the other day with this angel. PURCHASE ON REDBUBBLE
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Napoleon House haunts me a little bit. It’s situated in the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans and, to all appearances, is nondescript — maybe even a little bland looking. Old gray walls, a little worse for wear, an ancient sign is the first indication this place is something other than what it…
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I owe it all to Walter Rutkowski. He was my professor at LSU who said something like this to me way back in 1981: “Okay, draw that again 20 more times.” So, I did. Forty years and countless iterations later I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dr. Rutkowski’s instructions stuck.…
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My paintings typically emerge slowly, they haunt me for a day or three or twenty-three until they suddenly freeze in their tracks, say boo! and — eventually — disappear.
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Here’s what I wrote about Fadeaway Bike way back in 2014: It was time to paint a bike fading out and fading in at the same time.
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A note to self from November 2014 “I’ve been painting almost every day for the past few weeks and things are starting to stack up. Here’s a view of the table top where the most recent paintings are being stored. It’s probably time to update my items for sale page or make a shipment to…
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My paintings and drawings are the result of a wrestling match between me and the canvas. During this process I rework, erase, and even turn everything upside down to correct things, repaint and retry. One of the unexpected things that happens is that the lines and layers of the final image give it a history.…
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Be cautious when fixing your work. It may lead to an entirely new piece. I can’t leave well enough alone.
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Just close your eyes Cool Blue Roderick says — or seems to say — “Just breathe.” The Backstory This image was featured in Character Development: Portrait Studies at the Trueblood Pop-up Gallery at Boise State University. Take a virtual tour of the show! PURCHASE ON REDBUBBLE
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“Am I imagining this?” he asked aloud. He leaned his bicycle against the wall. Having no kickstand, the only other alternative was to lay it down on the pavement — not a good choice even though this part of the Mid City New Orleans neighborhood was deserted at this early hour. He heard a distant…
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A luminous figure appears — just in time for Valentine’s day! — and she reads a short, sweet poem to you as you watch her disappear
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I gazed at the far side of Spirit Lake where pines created their sawtooth pattern against an overcast sky. It was early morning on a cool summer day but it was still good to be outdoors.
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Watercolor painting of a sweetgum leaf and its shadow. It’s funny, isn’t it?, that we’re surrounded by a zillion of these and they are all different and all beautiful. That’s leaves for you. Always leaving you amazed.
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A painting of a young woman, standing barefoot in an open doorway, offering a cup of coffee.
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Cara is Italian for beloved. What do you say to your beloved when you see her pausing in the doorway, her cup poised just above the saucer midway to her lips, barefoot, and enchanting? Do you say, “Hey!” Or do you just stand there, gaping, speechless, arrested by her charm? I’m more of the “Hey!”…
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A young woman in a vast castle peers out of an open doorway
Angels on Bikes 