THE LINE

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It has been many years since I seriously and consistently worked with the line as the primary means of expression in my art.  It has a limited role in my architectural renderings in watercolor, and none in the clay monotypes or acrylic paintings, where composition and color are the means to creating drama and mood.  But, when properly executed, the simplest lines can evoke powerful and dramatic images.

It was during my first four years working in emergency rooms that I learned to appreciate the power and subtleties of line drawings, expressed exclusively in my on the spot sketchbook entries.  (Studio work at that time was always with watercolor.)   I recaptured some of the spirit of on the spot sketching during my trip to Italy in 2010, but have done little to sustain it since my return.  Yet it remains lurking in the back of my mind as I remember the joy and satisfaction I would feel when I successfully captured my subject in a few well-placed lines.  Maybe 2013 will be the time when I recover my pen and sketchbook.

Here are a few of what I consider the best of line drawings.

For an excellent example of the power of the line, I recommend a book by Gabrielle Vincent called
A day, a dog, a moving story told only with simple drawings.  It is wonderful.

CHRISTMAS EVE

It has been 20 years since I spent Christmas Eve with my parents and children.  My mom died 20 years ago this month, and my dad 3 years later, in the fall of the year.  For the first 53 years of my life, with one exception, I spent every Christmas Eve with my parents, a tradition that survived all the twists and turns in my life, until their deaths.

Beforel I married, this festive affair was spent with aunts, uncles, cousins and friends; later it was with my family, as it grew and evolved, surviving a divorce, a new family, and emerging adult children.  Year after year, it was arguably the most consistent event in my life.

Like so many Italian-American families, we celebrated the night before Christmas with the incomparable 7 fish dinner, something my father, in spite of his anti-religion views, thoroughly embraced and enjoyed.  As for me, I could usually find 3 or 4 dishes on the table that I liked…especially the pasta with anchovies or clams.  The shrimp was always good, and the deep fried smelts were OK.  The hardest to take was the Bacala…salted Cod that was served in a variety of ways.           

A few years ago my wonderful wife worked very hard to recreate that 7 fish menu for a Christmas Eve dinner with friends here in Paducah.  I thought she did a great job, but I can understand why, after spending all day in a kitchen full of smelly fish she vowed “never again”.  I still consider that an extreme act of love.

Our Christmas Eves are quiet now; the 7 fish diner has been replaced by linguine with anchovies, and if I remember to buy them, a shrimp cocktail.  The children now have their own families, and are busy transitioning into new traditions, which is as it should be.  I enjoy sitting in our living room with a glass of wine, the lights low, and Christmas music in the background, fondly remembering what was, and looking forward to what will be.  Christmas Eve has become a time when I am most intensely aware of how blessed my life has been.

Winter...acrylic...24x30...20019

Two Barns in Snow...acrylic...24x24...2009

Snow Pond...acrylic...24x24...2012

Reflections II...acrylic...36x48...2012

Snow Field...acrylic...24x24...2012

Winter Field...acrylic...30x40,,,2013

Winter's wonderland

The current cold front coming through and driving out the unseasonably warm temperatures has prompted me to search for paintings of mine with winter themes, particularly snow.  It turns out I've done more of them than I remembered, but still not very many.  Going way back into the 1980's  I've posted several of them here today.

Snow Fall...acrylic...6x6' 2009

Moore's Farm...acrylic...4x4"    2009

Red Barn in snow...pastel...15x20"   about 1998-9

Snow Field...watercolor...7x9"   2010

Snow on Broom st....watercolor...20x30"   1992

I'll post several more tomorrow, because I know you can't wait to see them.

I expect this to me my last landscape of this rapidly ending year.  This was a commissioned work, based on a photograph taken during the last days of the autumn colors.  

 

This is a theme I've used an a number of paintings over the past several years,  Sunlight striking a storm darkened sky.

Behind the Storm...acrylic...12x24

Storm front...acrylic...16x40

White Farm House...acrylic...30x40

Must be Summer ...acrylic...16x40

 

WORK THAT CALLS

My entire life has been defined by my work.  From my school days, working on our farm, and in the local pharmacy, through college and medical training, to my careers in medicine and art, I have defined myself, to a great extent, by the work I do.

I consider my very fortunate to have had a sense of “calling” regarding medicine, and later, art.  I have always felt that this was the work that I was intended to do, and thus they have provided un-ending meaning and purpose to my life.  They chose me; I did not choose them.

Medicine and art have allowed me to be who I am, without the need to conform to the standards or requirements of the “work place”.  They have given me the opportunity to express myself to others, in a manner of my own choosing, whether it be through a bedside visit or a painting, calling on the gifts that have bee granted me.  Both, over the course of my lifetime have enabled me to exercise both sides of my brain, in medicine and in art.

Medicine was never a technological exercise or a business enterprise for me.  It was always about people, serving them and being present to them in all circumstances.  It was a privilege I will always be most grateful for.

I left medicine ten years ago, and since then art has been my life’s work, even as it has continued to evolve, surviving the periodic crisis of confidence and self doubt.  In recent years, new work has begun to emerge, in some ways bridging the gap between art and medicine…writing.

I have been writing for myself for years, in my journal and in letters to my children and friends, but it began to assume a larger role when I started my blog five years ago.  My “style” has always been the short, personal essay, in which I can share my reflections on current issues, write about my art, and share memories of my past. Or to explore almost anything that I find interesting.

I don’t know if my writing will ever be anything more than it is now.  But I intend to pay very close attention to it, and listen carefully…just in case it calls.

If it doesn't?    There is always food and wine!

The first thing I got to do is slow down

I’m getting ready to wash the breakfast dishes, standing at the sink, when I realize I left the ceiling fan on in the studio.  I quickly run across the breezeway into the studio, turn off the fan, and hustle back to the kitchen.  Why?  Why did I move like I was facing some time deadline?  There was nothing I absolutely had to get done and nowhere to go; the entire day was ahead of me, to do or not do whatever I wanted. I catch myself rushing to get somewhere or complete some task all the time, and it is not just physically hustling...it is mental.  I’m always hurrying to get some little thing done.

I am convinced that life would be so much better - more enjoyable – if I would learn to mentally and physically switch to a lower gear and remain mindful of the fullness of each day, grateful for the opportunity to design it as I see fit.

WILD EYES...CLAY MONO TYPE....20X14"

THE MARKET

Grocery shopping has never been a chore for me, and in recent years it has become a rather pleasant task, one that I look forward to doing.  Over the years I’ve fallen into somewhat of a routine, doing most of my shopping at one of our local Krogers super markets, as well as our seasonal famer’s market.  I suppose I averaged 2 to 3 visits a week to either one.

During our “year of pasta”, the shopping became somewhat predictable; there were the usual staples that I kept on hand, fresh, frozen, or canned, often in excess of our actual need.  My reasoning was, it would eventually all get used.  Everything changed this summer.

Two things were responsible for the change: first was our decision to go to a plant based diet, and second was the opening of the Midtown Market, about 29 blocks from our home.

Our new eating habits, motivated by not so desirable cholesterol numbers, is basically vegetarian, with limited seafood, no red meat, and limited dairy and fats.  We are even developing a taste for whole-wheat pasta…at least for selected brands.  Since we are eating so much fresh produce that has limited shelf life, it is necessary to buy only what will be used in the next 2 days, especially for the greens.  The root veggies allow us more time.  I suspect I could make the shopping more efficient if I planned a careful weekly menu…and followed it.  But that is something I’ve never been able to do, thus the frequent trips to the market.

For a long time I’ve harbored a fantasy of walking to a market in our neighborhood every day to buy the fresh foods for our evening meal, something not very practical in our circumstances.  Driving the 2 or 3 miles to Krogers would not be the same.  Then, in the spring of this year, a young man opened a new food market, featuring fresh produce, meats, and a variety of organic and non-organic gourmet staples and specialty items.

The locally owned Midtown Market is a short 22 blocks from our home, and the quick, easy drive there brings me one step closer to my fantasy.  I love shopping there, and I do just that, at least 5 times a week, getting only what I need for the evening dinner…OK…some times I buy impulsively, but that only supports a local enterprise, right?

ABOUT THIS PAINTING III

The WINDOW series:

Windows #1...12x12"

Several years ago I was playing with different ways of applying loose acrylics on to a panel or canvas, applying and removing paints with fabrics and paper.  I ended up with the background on
the above painting.  I knew I wanted to use it, but initially did not know how, until the approach seen in the above piece occurred to me.  The idea was simple, select a color theme for the background, and use similar or complementary colors in the composition contained in the "window".

Of course I had to expand on this, and the Windows series was born, which eventually grew to over 20 paintings of various sizes and shapes, but all following the same general guide lines.

Windows #12...the largest in the series...48x36"

Windows #21...extreme horizontal format

Windows #24...36x36...with a variation on the window

They were fun to do while the series lasted and I haven't gone back to this format since then.