Themes
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Every year I get a little misty-eyed about Christmas and what it means to me. And so I get to share my feelings with friends and loved ones in the form of a little vignette captured in the form of a Christmas card. This year’s card is a linocut of Sasi and me surrounded by…
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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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Logan’s enjoying his favorite bubbly water soda and keeping Ben company while he cooks up another amazing concoction in the kitchen. Napoleon races into the living room to hang out with his pals, Snug and Lula, and to watch the family hang lights, light candles and decorate the tree. Lina completes the finishing touch by…
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Step 1: On the day after Thanksgiving, wake up, sigh deeply, then make a sketch or two Step 2: Paint the image on the linoleum block Step 3: Carve and carve and carve some more Step 4: Ink it, spot the errors, fix ’em, then ink again Step 5: Print it, mail it, post it…
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Ichabod Crane the Fourth rode into the neighborhood, parked his bike under a shuttered window and followed the sound of a rockin’ beat into a nearby bar known as Louie’s. Never to be seen again? Naw, he just stayed for the first set and then went prowling around the French Quarter for a decent roast…
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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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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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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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This is the bike linocut I made. This is the basic black and white image, but I’d like to explore other possibilities with color.
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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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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!”…
Angels on Bikes 