September 09, 2012
August 21, 2012
August 16, 2012
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August 14, 2012
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August 09, 2012
August 08, 2012
recalibration
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6x6", acrylic on cradled wood panel
sold
i'm in transition. the old routes feel limiting, but the new ones don't exist yet. experimentation with looseness feels like i don't care. tightness feels (and appears to me) like tightness. someone said to me "your paintings seem lighter lately" and i thought to myself yes, if lighter equals shallow...the real deal is festering, glowing, surfacing, but i haven't been able to get a real glimpse of it yet.
so i paint. at least it isn't paralyzing me, which has happened before. this time it's as if i need to push through it - show up, as they say, and just move the brush. exercise. no weighty commitment in every piece, no analysis of "is it done?". just paint...and wait for the water to clear.
thanks for coming along for the ride.
August 07, 2012
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August 05, 2012
August 01, 2012
July 17, 2012
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July 16, 2012
checked out
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6x6", acrylic on cradled wood panel
sold
sold
for me, this is the quintessential i-am-currently-unavailable-please-leave-a-message painting. i often consult the water in front of me for realignment, but given the opportunity to look up and see a palm tree swaying, light taking over, and the breeze drowning out everything else, is a true vision of feeling, well...checked out.
July 11, 2012
June 28, 2012
June 26, 2012
May 29, 2012
the outcast
8x10", acrylic on wood panel
nfs
a friend took a photo of this little guy a few years ago as he peered down at her camping group out in the wilderness. i've always loved raccoons and find it interesting how they are so curious, beautiful, and manage to live among us even in cities. it seems odd to me that most of us have a sense of fear and know virtually nothing about them other than that they seem to want our food scraps. i'm pretty sure they know us better.
May 22, 2012
May 13, 2012
nanosecond, kaanapali-time
36x48", acrylic on canvas
sold
water never looks the same way twice. influenced by temperature, wind, light, and the mysteries under the surface, i think as an artist that it's elusiveness is what always appeals to me. that i am never to know all it’s secrets, unable to slow it down to where i can take in every detail of what makes up a scene in front of me without losing something integral, leaves me with a sense of painting a puzzle piece. it may look correct, but it has no sound, and it does not move. our memory and our imagination must fill in to ever complete the scene again.
some would just call her stubborn
20x30", acrylic on canvas
sold
sold
this was painted for cheryl, my (our) hero ... and for those who stand in barren landscapes, risking vulnerability for the chance of a deeper breath.
flow
24x30", acrylic on canvas
sold
sold
when you’re out there – one rotation into the next, the wind rushing past your ears, the ground running under you, no walls or motors or computers or distractions but air and space around you…when you feel like you’re observing but belong - there is no explanation required anymore for doing what you’re doing.
a friend explained to me one day the concept of "flow”. it’s about being so absorbed in the present that time and negative emotions somehow evaporate and there is an exhilarating feeling of transcendence. it’s a mindfulness that occurs when the challenge of activity matches skill level. Csikszentmihalyi wrote in 1990 that when flow is achieved, “...typically people feel strong, alert, in effortless control, unselfconscious and at the peak of their abilities.”
May 12, 2012
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