Pre-Dawn Thoughts

Cobie ready for his run
He scouts the area for possible targets

The sun has not yet shown his face.  With hands folded on my chest, I am lying here in the cool darkness of morning.  Thoughts run through my mind and I wonder what it is that I would be doing if I could do anything that I wanted.  I think about other people; the famous ones who have thousands of photo flashes illuminating their faces.  Are they happy?  What do they do when they are not on exhibit before the masses?  If camera flashes are a measure of one’s existence, then it appears to be a very hollow existence. 

But the question again returns: with what would I like to fill my life?  This is what I have been pondering of late and it seems that I have narrowed it down to two general categories.  One is in the area of play; the freedom to be able and to have the means and time to do whatever I want, when I want to do it.  But how do you define play?  I think I just did, at least for me: “freedom to be able and to have the means and time to do whatever I want, when I want to do it”. 

But wouldn’t this be likened to just killing time?  If there is no purpose connected to the act of playing, what good does it do?  Yes there must also be a purpose thrown into this mix. This brings me to the second general category of what I would like to fill my life with: helping others.  Helping others makes me feel useful.  It brings me pleasure when others around me are happy and smiling. 

There are many ways to help others.  You can help financially, physically lending a hand with some chore or even just a smile or an encouraging word.  Producing goods that people can purchase to save them time or to bring them enjoyment is also a way of helping.  As I see it, the problem for me is to find a way to play that also helps others in some way.  Whatever I endeavor to do must be financially sustainable.  I need to make enough money playing, so that I can help others.  This in turn, supplies the motivation and desire to play some more. 

For me, just sipping a pina colada on the beach under an umbrella doesn’t make it.  The journey on the way to the beach that tired me out in the first place is what makes the umbrella and the drink so satisfying.  Without the sweat of achievement, the reward is empty.  Like ying complements yang, so does effort complement reward.  

Now that I’ve pretty much laid out the objective, it’s time to devise a plan.  I must formulate a way to make play profitable.  But how can I do it?  Answering this question will take me to the next plateau in my journey.  

Presently there are two areas that I enjoy working in (ouch did I say work). Not including eating breakfast, one is writing and the other painting or drawing.  My immediate goal is to write and paint or draw every day until they become second nature to me; until they become as natural as, dare I say it, eating breakfast.  This goal might be realized or it may lead to new and different goals.  And this is all right.  It doesn’t matter how I get down the road to the beach.  With the proper amount of sweat and effort, that umbrella and pina colada will be mighty refreshing.  

Tell the Story

It is ironic that while a visual artist is in the business of producing images he or she is endeavoring to grasp something that is quite elusive: something that dwells in an invisible world.  The portrayal of emotions, ideas and desires is the necessary target; the painted image is merely the vehicle to express this invisible idea. 

Isn’t it interesting how autos are depicted in television commercials; radiantly happy individuals racing up winding picturesque mountain roads with the wind blowing through their hair.  You won’t see them stuck in traffic on a sweltering summer day or thumping down a road of pot-holes after the spring thaw. 

They’re not selling the car but rather they’re selling a romantic vision of you enjoying what the car might possibly be able to offer.  And people ultimately buy, not the car but the vision.

In a like manner, viewers are not captivated by the paint on a canvas.  They are captivated by what it represents to them.  The painting could be a financial investment, a status symbol or a good color match for the décor of a room.  It could be reminiscent of a familiar place or person.

This is perhaps why it has been so difficult for me as an artist to find subjects to paint, why I agonize over the composition or why I go for extended periods without painting anything.  I search for some subject that will resonate within me.  But, I now believe that this approach is flawed. 

Everything in this world has a story to tell, for all things are unique and beautiful in their own right.  It becomes my job to search out what that message is and to convey it to the best of my ability.  Hopefully, even with my limited ability I will be able to grasp a glimmer of its story. 

C.M. with drum and beater

You see, I am merely a storyteller and colored pigments are my words.  My ultimate goal therefore is to tell a story in a way that will move the viewer; it is in essence that I improve and become the best storyteller that I can be.

MC visited us again last week and graced us with stories and smiles.  He sported his kilt and played the drum.  By the way, MC is an artist himself.  He makes a nifty little aid which helps you judge values (the Value Viewer).  This is a link to his site.

Ah - The Good Old Summertime

Where does the time go?  Summer arrived and ushered in a slew of distractions.  Distractions are always present in one form or another but sometimes it seems that they team up for a concentrated assault. 

I have been suffering a dry spell as of late.  It is tough to stir up enthusiasm and dive into a project.   The blog goes without a post.  Production is near a standstill.  I envy those dedicated souls who can work through any obstacles and paint every day in spite of them. 

But I won’t give up.  Sooner or later I’ll pry distractions’ nasty fingers from my throat and find myself painting with passion once more. 

The other day I found myself in front of a live model; finally a break in the lull!  Is the worm turning?  Will things now be getting back to normal?  What a joy it was to be back at the easel.  The drawing flowed effortlessly.  It was one of those happy times when you watch in amassment as the drawings appear on their own right in front of you.

I suppose it is similar to how golfers relate to their sport.  They speak of the disheartening anguish they feel hitting 19 sub-par shots in a row.  Then, that 20^th shot rockets perfectly off the club head and lands in the middle of the fairway.  The euphoria they feel will carry them through the upcoming pitfalls until that next perfect shot. 

Oil on board  4" X 5"

Will drawing always be an emotional roller coaster for me like it is for the golfers or will practice eventually bring me to a point where I am virtually always in charge?  I have my doubts.  I think real life points toward the roller coaster scenario. 

A friend once wrote me “but for great sadness there can be no great joy.”  If we carry this idea to art we could say “but for great failures there can be no great success.”  Yes I’m sure that in one way or another, in the long term, it will be a great ride.  Tighten your seat belt and hang on; the coaster is rolling!

Live Model

Oil     8" X 10"

I so love working with a live model. Unfortunately, that has become a cause for problems because the opportunity to paint from a live model doesn't always exist as often as I like.  So when that happens, instead of shifting gears and painting a still-life or painting from photos, I sit and brood.

Today I have an opportunity to paint plein-aire with a group from my art association but the weather looks pretty bad.  Two days ago I also could have painted plein-aire but life got in the way.

I guess I'll really have to make an attempt to be more flexible.

This painting was one of two sisters posing in a studio last week.  They were playing chess at the time.  This is a good setup because even though they move, they still come back to the same positions often. I painted and drew several views of both the girls but liked this one the best.

Bubba

This is our dog Cobie.  He is a big Bubba.  After we first got him we thought we had made a terrible mistake.  While petting him he would let out this low growl as if preparing to rip you apart!  However we soon learned that this was the way he spoke and that he was a very gentle soul.

Going home with his new family

Things were not always pleasant for Cobie.  He lived in a no kill shelter for about a year.  He was sent there after being picked up off the street at about one to one and a half years old.  One shelter worker we met told us that as she would lock up for the evening Cobie would cry louder than any other dog so she would often take him home to spend the night with her and her children.

When we adopted Cobie we found that he was extremely aggressive toward other dogs.  We found scars on his back and realized that he had been attacked by other dogs in the shelter and was suffering emotional trauma.  He would fly into a frenzy even if he saw another dog walk by the house.  Well, after two professional dog trainers and many lessons later (and lots of family love poured upon him) he is a thousand times better.

His one hang-up though, is with the UPS trucks.  For some reason unknown to us he wants to tear them apart.  And, he can tell the difference between UPS trucks from other trucks.

Well, we have had Cobie now for about five years and he is an integral part of the family.  Although he will probably always have issues he will have them with a loving family around him.

Conte

Conte 24" X 18"

I tried working in Conte again the other day.  It was quite fun.  Been sticking with charcoal for so long that I forgot just how fun Conte is and how forgiving it can be if you start off with a light touch.  This drawing is on white paper although it looks rather gray.  

Oh oh.  Our Bubba dog is insisting I take him for a run.  He huffs and puffs and drools on me till I give in.  I tie him to the bike with a rope and run him while I ride.  THIS CAN BE VERY DANGEROUS!  He has augured me into the ground several times.  He has dragged Chris across a yard; perhaps the element of danger is appealing.  Anyway, I now have most of the bugs worked out and can complete most trips in relative safety. 

Cobie AKA Bubba

 This is Bubba.  DOWN BUBBA...DOWN!!

I'll show the bike hookup on a later post.

Every summer for one month on the weekends an event called the Renaissance festival is hosted not far from here.  I believe that most areas across the country have something similar.  A great many people get dressed up in medieval attire (or any form of costume for that matter) and reenact the days of old.  There is a King and Queen, jesters, jugglers, actors and almost everything else imaginable.  Chris and I try to go once a year to get reference photos and enjoy the festivities.

This is a place to get some really neat pictures.  All the participants are always in a good mood and seem to really enjoy having their pictures taken.  But, this can also be a source of difficulty.  You see when they see you with a camera pointed their way they pause and smile.  What would have been a beautiful candid shot now seems contrived.  When one is using a point and shoot camera as I do this will be a constant problem.  I need to upgrade to a better camera which would make use of a longer lens.  A longer lens would allow me to stand further away and zoom in discretely and get that more candid shot.  Ah well if wishes were horses beggars would ride.

Fur Hats  Oil 6" X 6"
Photo by Artist

I love the fur hats on these to girls.  They look like two Siberian beauties.  The weather was cold on this day and I'm sure the hats felt comfortable.  The other gal in the tricorn hat falls into a different era but why should I be judgmental.  I could have painted her out but maybe there is a nifty story in this just waiting to be told.  I'll look at this painting from time to time and it might trigger an imaginative idea.  Who knows?

Home Brew

As I write some of these posts I realize just how much fun my Friday drawing group is.  I recall several months back at one of our sessions; the studio was packed and everyone was in good humor.  During the first break the model informed us that he was into brewing beer; not just any beer but exotic brands.  He quickly listed some half dozen types.  There were ales and stouts and the list went on.  He really knew his stuff and took great pride in his hobby.  I was impressed!

But more importantly he had a sample with him; not too much but an adequate amount.   He would be pleased for each of us to test some.  And several of us did test it: I included.  Now, how could you beat this:

• An excellent model
• Thoughtfully adjusted lighting
• Pleasant music
• Friendly company
• And a glass of delicately brewed barley.

The sample glass of brew tasted great.  What an enjoyable few hours.

Round 2
Charcoal  17" X 15"

My drawing took on a less insistent mood and the charcoal seemed to flow more easily.  This is one of the drawings from that session.  It brings back pleasant memories every time I look at it.

Take That Shot

I’ve been attempting to paint seven paintings a week at Studio Lally: fat chance.  Still, I figure as long as I’m headed in that direction eventually it will happen.  In the meantime though, a lot of paintings are quickly piling up.  What to do with them all?  It seems like a good idea to keep a record of them (that pesky left brain asserting itself again).  The better ones that might have more potential can go to the professional photographer.  The smaller, more numerable ones can be handled more easily in-house.  It’s a lot cheaper this way also. 

Voila!!   Le Box

Right now I use a six mega pixel point-and-shoot Cannon Power Shot camera.  I fabricated this light tent from a cardboard box: cut the sides and top out and draped it with a linen sheet.  It works all right except that I find it somewhat awkward to use.  Later I’ll get a professional tent but this one is good for now.

When the sun is shining, or even on overcast days with sufficient light, I prefer to just go outside to take the shot.  One tripod for the painting and one for the camera works well.  Just try to stay out of direct sunlight and watch out for those nasty reflections from other objects. 

Highly technical stuff!

 As long as the camera is perpendicular to the painting the quality is good.  Another thing I do is to set the two second delay to eliminate camera shake.  Next, I take about three consecutive shots at different exposure settings and later pick the one which looks the best.  Finally, the picture gets cropped from the surrounding background.  Piece of cake!  

Fencing With a Brush

The scene unfolds at the Friday paint session.  The usual suspects have arrived. Social chatter accompanies the unpacking of paints and equipment.  Supports are on the easels and, with brushes at hand, we we are ready to begin.

Enter the model.  He looks great!  He's dressed in Italian Renaissance attire (although I'm not too sure about the boots) and exudes a confident swagger.  He works the group like a carnival tent show caller.  He has all of us relaxed and loose.

Oil 20" X 16"
Photo by Artist

The leader of the group sets up the lighting and arranges a chair for the pose.  But he doesn't just sit in the chair;  he owns  it.  One leg hangs over the chair arm, and one hand holds his sword.  He sits so commandingly that you could envision a servant about to bring him a goblet of wine.

It might be the boots, but me thinks he looks more like a pirate than a renaissance man.

I have a 16 by 20 inch canvas and four hours to fill it.  I begin painting but soon realize that the pace must be picked up.  I throw more paint onto the palette and I throw caution to the wind.  I'm starting to have fun!

After a while, I notice that we're singing to the music in the background (not too loudly of course and not Pirates of the Caribbean).

As the time begins to run out, my intensity increases and I see myself fencing with the painting.  I am jabbing and swooshing like I have a foil in my hand.  I am racing to put on the last few touches and in an instant it is all over.  I put down my sword, I mean brush, and step back.  I don't always get a chance to fight like this with a painting.

I love working with a live model.  Some days, like this one, hold a special significance.  I believe that you learn more when you're pushed for time and not allowed to think.  Thinking and planning are better left for the studio.

An Irresistible Force

British Regular
Oil 14X11
Photo by Artist

I love it when the model is in authentic apparel. This man represents the threat which the United States faced at its founding.  He carried an impressive rifle; he had my attention.  He also carried himself with a confident attitude.  He plays the role so well that I get an unsettling feeling like I'm in a time warp (beam me back Scotty).  I can't wait to see him in action at the encampment which his group holds each summer.

I start a lot of paintings monochromatically.  Sometimes the color seems to never get added.  I just keep rendering and there is always just one more thing that needs touching up.  Before long time runs out and there still wasn't enough to get to all the items I wanted to.

However, this is a good thing.  I believe that more can be learned with one color and a time limit.  Time limits keep me more focused; there is no time to allow distractions to have a foothold.  Too much time allows me to get out the small brushes and start to fuss.

But the best thing about a time limit is the challenge.  You attack the painting.  You become involved at a higher energy level.  You're in a race.  I feel like I'm running, but my feet are standing still.  And when it's all over, I let out a long breath and take a look.  It's a fantastic mental and emotional workout.

Voyageur- Top Hat

Oil 5X7
Photo by Artist

This guy looked pretty interesting.  I wonder if top hats were really worn commonly in the 1700s.  Everyone I met at the encampment had such a knowing look; one of knowledge and confidence.  It was as if they were sizing me up; assessing my character.

I wonder if I would get the same feeling if I encountered this guy on the street in contemporary clothing.  I wonder which is his true self: the one who drives a car or the one who sits by an open fire with a top hat and a piercing stare?

Voyageur -With Bow

Oil  5X7
Photo by Artist

He paused and gave me a look.  The tomahawk in his hand looked like it could do a lot of damage.  Imagine walking through the woods two hundred years ago and coming face to face with this man.  This would have been a common sight in early Michigan forests.

Kilt and Drum

Kilt and Drum
Oil  11X14
Photo by Artist

This model posed in authentic clothing.  His left hand is flat on the back side of the drum and he alters the pitch by the pressure he exerts on the stretched hide.  The drum stick is rather short and both ends of it are used in playing.

He gave our group a memorable demonstration.  I can only imagine how a large group of Scots would sound.  I hope he graces us with a return visit soon.  It was enjoyable painting him.

Quite a few years back my wife and I went to a highland festival;  Scots with bagpipes in full roar.  It was awesome!  This year I'm going to make an effort to locate and attend another highland festival.

Coureur de Bois -Voyageurs

Micki
Oil 12 X 16

This sketch was done with a great model.  She is a member of a group called Lac Ste Clair Voyageurs.

Each summer they host several encampments, with period dress (I think around 1780).  They camp along Metro beach in Harrison Township, Michigan.  Also, they camp in Chesterfield and in Port Sanilac.  Their mission is to teach and experience the rich history of the French and Indian Fur Trade Era.  They also portray the people of the Great Lakes Region known as the Coureur de Bois and Voyageurs.

They are a great and friendly group.  I look forward to visiting their encampments again this summer.

Master Gardener

Flower Girl
Oil 16 X 20

This is the sister of a fellow artist who came in and graciously posed for our group.

 At one time I thought of putting color into this painting but decided against it.  I like it just the way it is.  

Perhaps one day I'll put her in a paint program and add color to see the possibilities.  

Glob On the Paint

Oil 5X7
Photo by Artist

I'm trying a new technique.  Trying to loosen up a bit.

I read once where an instructor stated that no student had yet approached him for help on how to paint tighter.

Why is it that painting looser is such a challenge?

Still have a ways to go.  I am never satisfied. Then again, I hope I will never be satisfied; satisfaction stops growth!

I used an extremely limited palette for this one: three colors and white.

Open Studio: Plan of Attack

Charcoal
Photographed by Artist

When I’m preoccupied by something, the drawing suffers.  I can’t do anything right.  It’s as if I completely lost any skills that I acquired.  It takes strength to keep pushing through these tough spots and not doubt myself.

Conversely, over time it became apparent that drawing while happy produces better results.  On a few rare and magical occasions, lines flow from the charcoal in my hand while I just watch in amazement.  Drawing is effortless when happy and mentally in the zone.  So the first goal is to relax and have fun.

Now that my mood is relaxed, I choose a subject of focus for the current session; a plan of attack if you will.  This can be any of a number of items.  It might be contour lines, shading, composition, making the figure fill the page, or placing lines accurately.  It might be working in vine charcoal, compressed charcoal, conte, ink or any number of others.  This helps me get over the persistent need to produce a finished drawing (although this in itself might be my subject of focus).

Ah….those pesky finished drawings.  Don’t they just drain all the momentum and energy from your soul?  They cry out, “Slow down and start tightening up!"  But we don’t listen because we are focused on the plan of attack.  So now the pressure is off.   Instead of juggling ten different skills, we have only one to address. 

Improvement, or lack of it in just a single facet of one’s drawing, becomes more apparent.  Narrowing one’s focus is such a basic truth that it doesn’t need stating.  But then again, it seems that it’s the basics which are the most elusive and which must continually be revisited. 

Focusing on one item at a time lets the process of drawing take the front stage.  It lessens the need for a finished work and it improves confidence.  When one single skill improves, everything else is influenced. 

And then when it happens that you find yourself in the mood to tackle that finished drawing, proceed with an attitude.

Harley Brown, a pastel artist whom I admire, reminds us in his book  Harley Brown’s Eternal Truths for Every Artist that we merely need to "Go for it!  Show the paper who's boss!"

The Tell Tale Fridge

Gesture (Photo by Artist)

If your painting area is in or near your kitchen, imagine this:

 You have been wrestling for a while about what to paint.  No subject seems quite right.  Finally a germ of an idea begins to materialize.  The idea grows in your mind.  It still isn’t just what you were wishing for, but it’s better than nothing.  You collect your materials: paints, brushes, mediums.  Now before your easel with tools in hand you ponder where to lay the first stroke. 

 And still you ponder the first stroke.  You stare blankly wondering why you can’t begin.  Then you notice that you are not alone.  Off to the side it’s the refrigerator, and he is sending you messages.  “Come over here”, he taunts, “I have a treat for you”.  As you casually glance over in his direction, he looks away.  He is so sly.  You know he’s fishing.  He’ll set the hook and just reel you in.  But you don’t take the bait.  You renew your focus on the work at hand.  Minutes go by.

Unwillingly, your thoughts return to the refrigerator.  Anxiety becomes frustration and frustration produces weariness.  “Maybe just a peek,” you murmur.  Slowly you saunter over to the fridge.  As you pull the handle, he gloats at winning.  You pretend not to notice.   Even worse, after rummaging through the shelves you find nothing good inside.  Heck, you didn’t really even want anything in the first place.  You’ve been had! 

This might not be too bad if it was a one-time occurrence, but it kept happening to me over and over again.  It was like I was in an Edgar Allen Poe novel:  “The Tell Tale Fridge”. 

But honestly, was it really the fridge?  No.  Was it really the munchies?  No.  Was it me just trying to avoid rolling up my sleeves and getting to work?  Yes.  Am I really good at letting distractions get in my way?  Yes.  But, little by little the distractions have been slowly subsiding.  It takes focus and finding something that I really want (not just like) to work on. 

I have a sneaking suspicion that I am not alone in this.  I wonder how many others allow distractions to reel them in and away from their work.

The scene of the crime

Open Studio Dangers: Slider

Pout

Another dangerous type that haunts the studio I call the Slider.  He usually appears at an inopportune moment to spoil someone’s fun.

At a certain open figure drawing session one day, all the participants were busy setting up, eager to get started.  Chatter filled the room.  It was a packed house.  We stood shoulder to shoulder circling the model-stand like Indians facing Custer.  To my left was a polite and quiet woman who had been coming now for a few weeks.

My eye caught a movement by the door:  a latecomer.  My gaze followed him as he circled the perimeter of the studio.  He was sizing up the situation, deciding where to go.  Finally his meanderings stopped at my left side.  I was ready to move so that he could get in line but he did not ask.  He quietly took his easel and slid between me and that gal to my left.  He paused and then slid further forward.  He paused again, adjusted himself and moved to the left.  Now he was completely blocking her view.  Slider was picking on a woman:  what a coward.  By moving to this position he was in essence telling her, “I am more important than you”.

I looked around the room.  Was I the only one to see this drama unfolding?  I waited for her to say something but she remained silent.  She moved back further to where she could peer between heads.  It seems that most artists are just gracious people who don’t want to make waves. 

What is wrong with some people?  Where is the simple respect?  If someone asked to squeeze in for a better position, the other artists would gladly have made room. 

Between characters like this, insensitive art critics and entry rejections it’s hard to persevere and maintain good humor.  This is why artists need to acquire such tough skins.  But keep at it.  Keep pumping out your art and defining your voice.

P.S.

I still have a nagging guilt that I should have said something in the woman’s behalf.  But was it my place to do so?  Should she have spoken up first?  If anyone has any advice or words of wisdom please share them.  I would be very grateful.

Open Studio: Ego Man

Correll Bois

The open studio for drawing and painting can be a wonderful way to develop those needed skills or to maintain sharpness in those already acquired.  Most of the artists I have met in the studio have been kind and generous, both in sharing knowledge and even supplying tools or paper (just for beginners though; a veteran forgetting his own supplies is like forgetting his pants and showing up in his underwear). 

Occasionally, there are dangers lurking in the open studio.  One of these dangers is Ego Man.  I encountered him upon entering an open studio setting a while back.   Ego Man had gotten there early (this is one of his tactics).  Before anyone else could set up, he placed his easel two feet before and slightly to the left of the seated portrait model.  Placing a large canvas upon the easel and oblivious to the others behind him, he happily waited for the session to begin. Had there been a breeze in the room this canvas would have undoubtedly sailed away.

Immediately to his right was Ego Gal seated at along table.  The table took up the same room that three artists could have occupied.  The entire table surface was covered with an array of watercolor equipment.  Ego Gal seemed content.

All the remaining artists were compelled to find places behind these two Ego People.  The monitor seemed oblivious to what was going on.  I gazed at the huge white billboard obscuring the model and my blood boiled.  What should I do?  Do I walk out or place my own easel in front of Ego Man and begin a confrontation?

In my headstrong youth, I probably would have created a scene. But now, wiser and calmer, I gathered my bag and left quietly.  The stress is just not worth it.  Life is too short.

Fast forward about one year to the present.  Out of curiosity, I called the studio and found that the open draw was still in effect there.  I also discovered that others had complained about the same issue.  I was assured that Ego People were no longer tolerated and all participants would now be treated respectfully.  I intend to go back soon and check it out.  Maybe I’ll have another place to paint now. 

I’ll Never Grow Up

Near the Field

I never wanted to grow up.  There didn’t seem to be any benefits to being an adult.  It was great to hang out at the creek not too far from my house.  Entire days would be spent there walking the trails and exploring.  I can’t count the times I crossed to the opposite bank balancing on a dead tree that spanned the water.  One winter I spied a sled stuck just below the thin frozen surface of ice.  I wanted that sled so I jumped up and down to break through the surface; cracks began to form.  I was so close to success, when finally, gravity again instructed me in her mysterious ways.  The ice opened and down I went up to my waist.  A disgusted, soggy kid walked about a half mile back home with no sled.

The passing of time gave me bigger muscles, more hair and a deeper voice.  But the kid remained.  Then a remarkable thing happened just when I needed it.  Effortlessly events fell into place, which allowed me to be fireman.  It was great!  I played with fire and hoses.  I climbed aerial ladders and chopped holes through walls and roofs.  I raced fire engines down streets.  At night the alert would sound and the guys would slide down the engine-house poles to mount the apparatus and race to an emergency scene.  And best of all, the kid in me remained alive and well!

Well I finally reached the age of mandatory retirement.  Being a fireman is now behind me.  Now will I finally become an adult?  Heck no!!

A few years ago I became reacquainted with art.  I found that I could play with paints and charcoal.  I could splash gesso onto canvases and plein air paint.  My wife is also an artist so we enjoy this journey together. 

My wish for you is that your inner kid is alive and well.  And if he hasn’t been visible for a while, wake him up!!  For the kid inside never completely leaves; he just reluctantly sleeps from the boredom of adulthood. Let’s all go on this journey together, splashing paint on our canvases and painting in the open air.  Let’s all be kids.

Journey Begins

I’m standing on a cliff looking over the edge.  What shall I do?  Go forward or back?   Behind me is the familiar terrain of the things and ideas that were instilled in me over my lifetime.  They were comfortable and predictable practices one could always count on.  Not too many surprises back there. 

Before me spans an ever changing way of living and doing things. Have you noticed how quickly the language has changed: words with cryptic meanings?  The impossibilities of just a few years ago are now taken for granted.  The world has gone Hi Tech and it has left me behind… me!  How dare it?  I thought by now it would have slowed back down and come to its senses and reassess where it went wrong.  I was mistaken.  Not only is it not slowing down, its accelerating! 

I’ve been lurking here on this cliff for quite some time pondering my options.  I could go back; take the blue pill and wake up in the morning or take the red pill and see how far down the rabbit hole goes.  The way ahead is intimidating. Many monsters lie in wait eager to smash my ego to bits, many dangers strewn in my path to scuttle my dreams and ruin my life.  However, the internet has provided much information and support.  A great many people who comprise it demonstrate knowledge, compassion and an unselfish willingness to share with others.  Should I remain where it is safe or should I jump into this uncertainty?

I jump!  What the heck!  Let the journey begin!

I have been painting for a few years now and have been entering works for competition through local art associations.  Now I will expand into the electronic world with a commitment to be honest in my art and in my dealings with others.  I also commit to help others who ask for it and welcome any advice, constructive criticism or suggestions offered.