Hay Barn, Winter

Hay Barn in Winter, 44 x 58 inches, oil on canvas.

Bright Evening Sky

Bright Evening Sky, 9 x 6 inches, oil on panel.

Adding and Subtracting

Some color added, some removed.

So there I am sitting at a show, and I get to visiting with a friend of mine- we'll call him Dr. D. He's a good friend of my friend and one-of-these-days fishing buddy Dr. Z. Anyway, we're talking about who knows what, and all of a sudden this guy says, HeyMan......areyoufamiliarwithMondrian???Nothisgridstuffbuthisearlywork ........beforehecameupwiththegrids .....youknowwhatImean? No.Youshouldlookhimup ....it'scoolit'scool. Hedidabunchofarchitecturalstuff...strongcolors...Ithinkyou'dlikeit ..mmmmmmm...........How'boutTurner?Hiswork,youknowit?

I said, Yes, I love Turner's work.

Yeahyeah,Ithoughtyoumustmsutthewayyoulayerthecolorsputtingonelayeroveranotherwiththe
underlayersshowingthrough.

And I said, Yes, that is one thing I think I have in common with Turner's work. I think it was Turner that worked with meglip medium. He would often put a blob of medium on the canvas and float colors into it, and mix them in that fluid surface. I often work that way, but then I'll go in and take paint off the surface. I think what you remove is just as important as what you ad.

We were all quiet for a minute, and then the guy said, Cool.......loveyourworkmanthecolorrocks. And he was gone.

Dr.D and I were quiet for a minute and then he said, So who was that?

I have no idea.

Really?

Yeah, no idea.

And D. says, You said something I thought was interesting. That what you remove is just as important as what you ad. Do you know how a hand is formed, a baby's hand? (Keep in mind this is me paraphrasing/relaying what the Doc said, and my version should in no way be mistaken as a verbatim take on what he said, on your med-school neonatalogy final, or rephrased into a question for your final Jeopardy answer.) From the body of the infant a bud emerges and extends to form an arm, and then a small paddle or fin like appendage on the end. And then the cells between the the fingers die away, and the fingers are left. A bud forms on the front of the head, and the cells that fill the nostril cavities die away, and the nose is left.

What is removed is just as important as what is added.

Damn. Why didn't I have Dr. D. for biology class. I might have ended up as Dr. R?

Of course, I'm pretty happy as R the artist.

Spring in the north

Just home from a few days in the Adirondacks. I'll get back to work, then fill in a bit more on my trip over the next week or so.

It was just what I needed to reconnect with myself, after being set adrift by the demands of April 15th.

Earth Day

River in Evening Drizzle, 4 x 6 inches, oil on panel.

To stick your hands into the river is to feel the cords that bind the earth together in one piece.

- Barry Lopez

Spring, maybe.

So I headed to Florida figuring winter was about through with us. When I got home I was lulled into complacency with a few warm days, one of which I went fishing. And then winter came back again. We had a few cold snowy days, much to Molly and Finn's delight, but I am really ready for the season to change.

Hendricksons should be hatching in a week or so. And the trout season really gets started.


Evening in Spring, 16 x 20 inches, oil on linen.

Evening Glow

Evening Glow, 10 x 15 inches, oil on panel. Private collection.

Another from the ongoing river series.

I've had to drop back to three paintings per week with the Small Work project. Getting ready for the first show of the season, the Winter Park Side Walk Art Festival, has me buried under a couple dozen partially finished pieces. I'm hoping to finish most of them, but running short of time, trying to figure out how to best spend my time.

Managing work flow. Not really the sort of thing a person thinks about when they think of a working artist, but an important part of the job. I can't finish all of them before the show, so which will help present the strongest body of work?

And I'll finish the rest as soon as I'm home.