This is an oil on canvas from 2012. The late afternoon was cold and right after we saw this we walked the Golden Gate Bridge. I wanted to show the cold atmosphere, notice everyone is bundled up but at the same time the colors are very rich and warm. The people were not very social with each other but instead kept among themselves in small groups of families.

I really appreciated the activity, as in the suburbs it seems to be a bit of a ghost town, I love tourist areas because locals and tourists tend to be all around even if no one actually socializes amongst themselves, I still enjoy the energy and activities of community and family.

The new series is well on its way, with manic excitement in the in initial sketches, great under paintings that really gave me a great overall idea of what the series would say and than the long and labored creative block and suddenly I can see the ideas clearly again.

So here is the first of the series, it is an image of a shrike, also called the butcher bird because their habits with their prey, they tend to hang grasshoppers and mice on thorns and barbed wire. I had originally planned on adding the prey but felt it might detract. The concept here is the beauty and warmth of an open field at the height of summer sunflowers and hidden along the hedgerow the shrike surveys its territory.

This image is the first time I had ever used oil sticks, as I wanted a rich somewhat abstract feeling of the weeds and sunflowers, the background was left open and barren. I hope there is a bit of strength in the power of a predatory bird and a bit of sadness in the distance with the impending storm. This scene is something I see pretty much every day-the shrike came to me as a harbinger of something perhaps violent, I aimed for simplicity and left only the detail for the birds and bit of the sunflowers.

My colors have changed in recent, especially in
some of the water scenes, more greens in the emerald hue inspired by a visit to the Florida coast.  This painting of the shrike quickly clarified my direction with the contrast, limited color palette and the somber grey bird with a violent reputation as a small but effective predator. I am eager to paint more birds, wildlife and probably people, I want the landscape to stand on its own to create the atmosphere but the wildlife and the people will bring a voice or personality to the empty landscape.

My first love is nature, something that has been a major influence as long as I can remember. I love the hedgerow, I love the silence of being in the middle of a field during the most dramatic seasons of fall, winter and spring, a time that I seem to paint the most, maybe because its cooler than but more importantly the atmosphere of the landscape is more distinct and says more in its reference to death in autumn, the deep thought of loss and redemption of winter and the chance for the renewal in spring. I want my colors to be true and my shapes to almost allow an abstract feel mingled with realism.

My next paintings is of a cat at the window with the moon and trumpet flowers on the fence outside-I concentrated on the blues and oranges of the night garden contrasting with the shadows of the cat as it stares out of the dark corner of a window scene. I am very excited to see this series progress and am also happy to include more pastels which were a bit absent in the last series. I hope you will enjoy the series.

I woke this morning to a frozen landscape outside my door. I was very excited about having a nice cozy afternoon with no place to go, watching movies, having hot chocolate-one problem changed our plans-we had no power, in fact most of the area had no power. It was one of those days that you really appreciate the simpler things, like being able to cook, make coffee, surf the web, oh and lights and heat would be good. The fish tank was beginning to get cold too-the fish were at the bottom almost in a stupor. Our first position was waiting it out, certainly we would have lights before long but the morning dragged with everyone staring at each other, I’ll make coffee, never mind, let me check the news, never mind and that habit of reaching for the light switch to be disappointed with an empty click and standing in the darkness feeling foolish. 

After a great walk around the block where my son and I discovered an oasis of donuts, coffee and Kolaches, we walked back through the treacherous streets hoping the many falling branches wouldn’t fall and kill us. It looked like a war zone, there were beautiful tall trees split at the trunk and the glass branches glittered in the gray afternoon bliss-okay I’m an optimist. After drinking the tepid coffee and eating the cold kolaches-it was a long walk in the cold-again we looked at each other with a bit of confusion. So now what do we do? 

I just started a late morning nap when my son blurted out-board games!!! What about board games? So the first game we played, as I reluctantly resurrected myself from the warm blanket and my peaceful slumber, was scrabble. You just can’t turn down a fifteen year old actually wanting enjoy a game with you-even if is the fact that we were captives to the ice storm. Just as we were into the game and really enjoying it and questioning why I ever hesitated my brother and his family stopped by, they too had no power. They brought some coffee, it was actually hot. My son and I went out and got some needed comforts, all ready-to-serve and bought yet another board game which I’m not sure you’ve heard of-“Monopoly”. How many hours have been spent playing that game and yet now with television, video games and internet-we barely remembered how to play. So just as we get home to a house where the heat is starting to hum, my son said something that struck me-“I hope the power is still out.” I just thought it was sad how far we had come where the only way we were forced to play a game and not be distracted was with the most fortunate ice storm.I considered it a bit of an addiction to media and decided the power would stay off for the length of a game of monopoly. Okay we didn’t play in the dark, we’re not savages and we weren’t having to bundle up with the blessing of having heat but the television stayed silent and the computers never opened and the Xbox missions were all postponed for my son to literally monopolize the whole game and steal every last cent I had. I think he’s going into business for himself next year and I think I might invest in what ever he starts as he’s quite a mogul.

On the left is the original from a point and shoot camera, the middle is just filtering and adding a bit of saturation to colors and shadows and the final is just playing with colors and saturation.

I remember just starting to use Photoshop, every week I  would discover a new filter to use. One specific filter I remember and definitely have witnessed its overuse is the lens flare tool. So why not use the tools you have? Why not go crazy with colors and effects, throw in some multiple fonts and maybe some shapes and you have a work of art right? Here is my problem with filters, they can often make the simple pure act of capturing an inspiration contrived or overdone.

lens flare versus same filters with more subtle effects.

I have spoken recently about an image having just enough, nothing more or less, a complete and final inspiration stands on its own and the viewer enjoys the piece as a whole. A poorly or overused filter can cause more of a distraction than an improvement on a work. I am impressed when the viewer who knows how to use filters and is aware of their effects can not pinpoint what filter was used but the image is cohesive There is a beauty to purity and capturing something the way you actually envision it and even more amazing is subtlety especially when creativity tends to strive for all the bells and whistles.

A well used filter will allow just the right amount of highlight or low light to a scene or work and allow the over processing or under processing of an original, it gives the creative professional an opportunity to push an effect or allow more options to the original image. Of course this is all subjective and my idea of overuse or contrived is anothers’ masterpiece so allow for opinion and personal style to dictate what is too much. I happen to love subtlety and I believe there is not much that we can improve on  images of nature which are to me, pretty amazing and perfect in their own way. For the abstracts and non-representational creatives, of course you decide what is perfect and what is too much but we have all seen the overuse and cheesy effects it is up to creatives and their own vision to decide what is over the top and where cheese becomes genius.

I have had the chance to see much photography and art over the recent years and have come to the point where I don’t necessarily see what I inspires me to create, instead I realize what I don’t want to create. I have tried in the past, especially with black and white, to capture the artsy shapes and patterns that seem interesting to me but not necessarily to others and I would think on most times I have failed to capture the inspiration that begged to be photographed. I have just recently admitted to myself that the inspiration might never have been there and logically I was thinking that the shape or pattern would be seen as that iconic image-enter the realm of artsy.

Inspiration is very intangible, you don’t create because you think it will be seen as deep or interesting, you create because the image practically jumps in your lap. The painting or photograph that is truly inspired becomes the image in its time, it naturally appears from out of chaos and is obvious to the artist eye, it does not attempt to be interesting or dramatic, it just is.

The creative process has stops and starts, the flow is not controlled by the artist although it can be easier digested if the creative has time and silence to be open and aware. Inspiration comes suddenly and dramatically but it is also somewhat like a puzzle that gives up its secrets with subtle cues. Being creative is a rapidly changing point of view that speaks of pictures in words and words in pictures. I believe the most amazing creative endeavors are those that speak from some supernatural place where the viewer or reader takes something from the piece that is not clearly written or executed. The feeling of sadness from a pastoral scene that invokes a feeling of ones’ childhood, the realization of ones’ own qualities or weakness only unlocked from a piece that speaks nothing specific or tangible; these are those supernatural moments where art speaks beyond its medium.

In the realm of photography I seek images that haunt me, if it is a portrait, I want the person to be saying something to me without a sound. I want to feel haunted by the subject and feel as if I have just interrupted an important moment in someones’ life. I would rather the viewer hate my painting or photograph than leave it empty, it is all about feeling something, anything really.

Another difference between the artsy and the true inspiration is that the feeling of artsy fades very quickly, inspiration is not hampered by time or style and fashion of the day. You see that which is inspired and it grows and changes every time you see it or remember it. Inspiration has depth much like a complex wine that gives up its qualities and flavors only over time and nothing is constant, everything changes, grows and lasts the test of time. You remember and go back to an inspired piece and the artist or writer doesn’t have to explain what they were thinking or feeling.

True inspiration becomes less of the artists’ and more of the viewers’, the creative gives up ownership of the piece as the viewer creates their own idea or feeling, an inspired work can be explained and dissected by many and the artist never has to say a word because there are no right or wrong answers. The viewer is left to discover the piece and it changes and grows depending on the viewers’ point of view.

This is so subjective and would love to have others opinions, this is my opinion, how I see art and the creative process but just as I mentioned-it is the viewer who describes it for themselves and this writing only attempts to lead the reader to make their own decision on what is artsy and what is true inspiration.

Upcoming painting of Turner Falls Oklahoma

I have usually worked on paintings that have been on a list of paintings to do for often years before they actually see paint. I always think of this as the fermentation of an idea or inspiration, probably the reason why the edges are often soft and the thought is open for the viewers’ interpretation instead of the realistic, straight forward landscape. Recently, I was able to finish many of the paintings that had been on the list for a long time and now the work that is being created are fresh and most of the inspiration is very recent and still very clear in memory.

So you would think this recent series would be so quick and easy but that is just not the case with creativity. One canvas that you see on Tuesday is often completely a different canvas when you look at it on the following Tuesday or even the next day for that matter. No, there is no magical change of the actual form and no, there is no magical metamorphosis of the image over time but the eye of the artist is always changing and can often be extremely critical. When you start a painting often the excitement of the direction you are going become almost intoxicating and after the initial rush you are left to a painting that it seems like some one else started and you like it enough not to want to damage the essence that make it attractive to you and yet as the artist, I feel incapable of moving forward.

View of the autumn foliage from Tucker Tower

This series started quickly and with great enthusiasm and yet it stopped just as suddenly. I have several large and small paintings in different stages of completion but they are all suddenly like a train wreck that I can’t seem to find the path through the execution. Even the feeling of the entire piece is barely discernible and yet it started out so clearly. I believe you take the image out of memory when you start the work and than there is the insecurity and doubt that follow and often haunt the artist through the creative process.

My theory on this whole process is don’t ever get attached to any single painting and realize that you can recreate the same painting over and over again and each time you will see it differently. Be bold with color and welcome failure, every process of painting is a learning process and only after getting past the original fear and insecurity does the true beauty of the piece become true to itself. The next two days I have off and plan on working somewhat furiously on the paintings and while I am in the process of painting the landscapes that are in process, another group of paintings have appeared on the list. One painting is of the waterfalls at Turner Falls and another looking down from the tower at Tucker Tower on Lake Murray, with this season comes the cold atmospheric breeze and the perfect atmosphere for the kind of landscapes that seem to haunt my imagination.

In recent years we suddenly discovered a new species of people-the bully. Schools create dances and songs and processes to defeat this unfortunate foe as if we have only just realized that they exist. Bullies have existed in one way or another for centuries as long as there have been differences in strength differences in skin color, looks, egos and tolerances there have been and always will be bullies. The government can not legislate their extinction no more than dances and songs can wish them away.