Along Pennsylvania Backroad

Along a Pennsylvania Backroad, oil on panel, 9 x 12 inches.

With the snowstorm of the season dropping down on us, this study takes me back to a late afternoon last summer.

Following Finn

Weekend Update

After ignoring my website for a while, I spent time this weekend getting the two galleries updated and current.
Genesee River at Letchworth, 34 x 44 inches, oil on canvas. The study for a much larger piece from last springs Artifact show.


Five Sugar Maples, 18 x 22 inches, 23 x 25 framed, oil on canvas.


New Day II, 24 x 24 inches, 31 x 31 framed, oil on canvas.


Under a Brilliant Moon, 30 x 30 inches, oil on gallery wrapped canvas.

Early Snow

Early Snow, 8 x 10 inches, oil on panel.

Just in time for an end of year thaw, I put the last touches on a small piece, reflective of the first snow of this year.

Uly's Barn in Snow

Arrived at it's new home in Denver in time for Christmas.

WInter arrived...

this past week, with a quick dump of heart-attack snow, and the arrival of some favorite winter neighbors.


I love to watch the Short-Eared owls, often arriving as a pair, arcing crazily around the fields. Staying low and close to the ground, they'll wheel acrobatically and drop on something small and unseen in the distance.


Darby prefers the Harrier hawks, with their slow, gracefully rocking flight, also low and quiet above the winter turned field.


The cold is sudden, and not altogether welcome, but I've already found a painting in the harsh arrival. Something small, but atmospheric, should be done in a couple more days.

The pursuit of happiness.

I look forward to my wife getting home from work.

To time spent with our kids.

To the company of our dogs.

To work.

Somewhere in a book by James Lee Burke- maybe Jolie Blon’s Bounce?- he writes that the secret to being happy is really just a matter of having something to look forward too.

I look forward to fall.

To the woods, carpeted with leaves.

To the rain.

To the rumbling echo of the river inside the hood of my jacket.

To the light, quick flight of a scandi line.

To the deep, slow, into-the-cork load of a skagit head.

To flies the size of the palm of my hand.

To the flow of the river.

To the tug of a steelhead.


The art season was grueling this year. And it continued into steelhead season, my favorite time of the year.







But steelhead season always brings me back to ground. Last week I met a guy along the river, and we talked, about fishing, work, and life. He picked up on me being frustrated with work, with being tired from the season. And he said, I have the solution for you, from Mark Twain. He said, When you are tired of working, start back when you feel like it.

Permission from beyond.

I am ready to get to work again.