THE LAST OF THE HOT SKIES...

well maybe not the very last. But at least for now. This will be the last PLANNED painting for next month's show. It is sort of a throw back to the windows series I did 2 years ago. I guess I never quite got that out of my system.


Heat...acrylic...24x24

I'm not sure what's next. At times I feel like it is time to move on to something new (subjects, technique, medium,?) and other times it seems there is so much more to learn and do with my current landscapes. What I don't want is to become too comfortable and not push the boundaries.

A NEW DAY

and a new painting. Leaving the flat farms of the mid west I decided to visit some of the landscapes from my home state of New Jersey. This painting was inspired by the marshes and tide water inlets in southern NJ. I have deliberately left out the many dead tree trunks that frequently stick up out of the marshes. (in keeping with my "no barns no trees" policy I established for my last several paintings.) I was also looking for a different atmospheric mood in this piece.


Morning Marsh...acrylic...24x24

PATCHWORK OR PIECE MEAL, (and no barn)

either way, this next painting is a departure from the recent postings. It will be a companion piece to a painting I posted several weeks ago, both in composition and color.


Patch work...acrylic...34x34


Patch work...detail

There are 2 more paintings in progress, and they will be the last 2 pieces for the March show....maybe.

SKY BABY

The title of this post is meaningless. I tried unsuccessfully to come up with an appropriate title but liked the way this sounded, even though it has nothing to do with this painting.


Dark skies...acrylic...24x24

HIGH ON SKIES

I can't seem to help myself. Standing in front of the easel my hand always moves down the canvas to locate the horizon and I'm left with the challenge of creating another large and interesting sky. As is probably evident by now, I prefer to use my imagination to "make up" the skies and clouds. In this painting I fell back on the wet paper towel technique where I brush in the colors, keeping them wet with a spray bottle of water, and then working them together using wads of wet paper towels.


Clouds...acrylic...36x36

I don't believe this is the finished product; there are some glazes I want to add to the foreground.

BURY ME NOT

on the horizon! Looking at all of my paintings from the last 7 years it is obvious I have spent years there already. After every painting I tell myself, it is time to move on, to a different perspective, or composition, or subject, or ANYTHING, as long as it doesn't have a big sky and small foreground. So what am I doing now? Creating work for a show in March with the theme, The Horizon. To my credit, there are several paintings that have a small sky and a big foreground. (I'll take credit wherever I can find it.)

This latest piece is completed, or nearly completed, depending on how I feel after several days of viewing it on the easel. It is done on a 24x24 panel, over a previously "failed" self portrait. My apologies for the uninspired name.


Violet Sky

IN TUNE WITH THE WEATHER

With temperatures outside in the teens it seemed appropriate to try my hand at a more seasonal landscape. The colors were actually inspired by a photo I saw of a whitewashed wall with a black hat and 2 colored foot stools hanging on pegs. It measures 24x24" and will be part of the March show.


Winter Sky...acrylic

SQUARED!

I've decided that all of my new work for a show this March will be square, mostly 36x36" and 24x24" canvases with an occasional 12x12" for variety. I have a pretty good start on the project with the recent completion of a fourth 36x36 and the first 24x24. The focus will be on exploring color and light to create a range of moods in the landscapes. Here is a recent painting currently sitting on the easel for several days of scrutiny and second guessing.


Warm Clouds...acrylic...36x36"

PAINTING FROM THE HEART

It sounds so simple. Just paint “for yourself”, follow your heart, listen to your inner voice, and on and on and on we hear the message. For years I thought I’ve been doing a pretty good job of doing just that, and maybe I have. But lately I’m not so sure Lurking in the dark recesses of my mind are small but significant voices asking me: will this painting sell, will it appeal to a gallery, is it cutting edge and contemporary, what will my fellow artists think, etc., etc., etc.

I find some comfort by telling myself that all artists have to deal with similar issues....they do, don’t they? I have always been willing to compromise, perhaps because what I like to paint is generally well accepted by the public at large, but not by many contemporary galleries. I subscribe to Art in America and ask myself why; my work has no place in their world. I have really tried to appreciate conceptual art, but to no avail, and installations leave me wondering there is something wrong somewhere, either with the artist or me.

I am not one to make New Years resolutions, but will go out on a limb and make one now. I WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO IGNORE ALL THAT IS NOT MY OWN. I WILL NOT SECOND GUESS MY INSTINCTS AND WILL PAINT ALL THE BARNS, TREES, AND LANDSCAPES THAT MY HEART DESIRES (or stormy skies)!

Wish me luck.

CREATIVITY

I can only understand the process of creativity as it relates to my own work, and even then the understanding is incomplete and fragile. Of the many volumes written on the subject, The Courage to Create, by Rollo May has been most helpful to me. May proposes that the basic element in creativity is the encounter between the artist and the subject (or object). The artist’s response to the encounter, which can run the gamut of emotional and mental reactions, and the intensity of the response, is what generates the creativity.

This struck a chord with me. since from the very beginning my art was the result of my response to the urban environment. I loved the busy texture and fabric of the city streets with their storefronts, markets, and curbside signage and paraphernalia. I spent endless hours on the streets of Wilmington and Philadelphia with my sketchbook and camera gathering material for my paintings ( I have always been a studio artist, limiting by on site work to quick sketches.) After all of these years this attraction remains unabated, even though it is now shared with my love the rural landscape with assorted barns, trees, and big skies.

Because of this experience the notion that creativity arising out of an encounter resonated with me. The idea can easily be expanded to include more than the world around us. The artist can encounter a sound, an idea, or a memory; almost anything can elicit a creative response. The more an artist explores and paints the greater his or her facilities become, leading to an expanded area of interest and ambition, and greatly increases the chances for those significant encounters.

Having Fun

This slide show is brought to you by my patient wife, Patience, who rescued me from the abyss of computer frustration.

MEDICINE & ART II

Before I could leave my practice to “become an artist” (that is how I thought about it) I had to secure part time employment to meet my financial obligations to home and family. I approached the director of our local ER who made me a rather extraordinary offer, filling in for the vacation time for the growing staff I could work full time for 3 months, alternating with 3 months off. I quickly accepted the offer and spent the next 4 years alternating between three months in the ER and my studio.

It was an incredible experience, moving readily between two contrasting environments: the chaotic demands of medicine in a busy city ER, and the quiet, peaceful solitude of an artist’s studio. Survival in the first required blocking out the emotional impact of dealing with so much human pain and suffering, while creativity in the studio demanded an openness to my surroundings, feeling and experiencing the landscapes that I wanted to paint. It was more than simply changing hats every 3 months, it called for a complete reversal of my psyche; the 2 states of mind could not easily exist together. Attempts at working in the studio on my days off during the ER tour were totally unsuccessful and I soon stopped trying.

An interesting thing occurred during this time. Being self taught, I was at a very steep beginning of the learning curve, and after advancing my point on that curve with three months of studio work, I anticipated that it would slip back a bit after my stint in the ER. Too my surprise that didn’t happen, in fact upon returning to the studio I found myself even a little further along than when I left. Clearly things were happening internally, the changes that Rilke describes so eloquently in his letters.

Reflecting on those four years, my first thought was I was working both sides of my brain, the creative right side and the rational left side, but I have since come to recognize that this was an inaccurate distinction. Although the descriptions of each role are easily distinguishable, the person performing them remains the same, and inwardly there was no separation. For me, medicine and art are seamless, each one enhancing the other.

Here are several examples of work from my "ER" days.

Philadelphia Merchants Exchange...watercolor...one of my favorite buildings in Philly

The Pennsylvania Academy of fine Arts...watercolor...I love Frank Furness's work.
Behind Quaker Hill in Wilmington, DE...watercolor...I was big time into architecture.
My Sketch book was a constant companion during my ER days.