Portraits of the Artist

Apr20

I’m working on a commission, presently. A long-time friend who appreciates my work recently commissioned me to do a self-portrait. An interesting commission, and I undertook it enthusiastically, without giving the matter any hesitation at all – now I’m mired in it. lol Self-reflection is deep on a thing like this, but it’s not as if it is the first time I’ve done a self-portrait. They’ve changed over the years.

“Rage” acrylic on paper, 1985, my first self-portrait, at age 22. 12″ x 16″

In the 80’s and early 90’s, when I was still “finding my artistic voice” (still a work in progress, as it turns out), and painting in both watercolor and acrylic, I found emotional safety in abstraction for self-portraiture.

“Portrait of the Artist’s Tears”, 1987, acrylic on paper, 5″ x 7″

I didn’t “stay in that place” indefinitely, things sometimes felt better, sometimes they felt worse. It was a complicated journey, artistically, and I often found that painting was a way of saying what I did not have words for at that time in my life.

“The Night Before Christmas”, 1990, acrylic on paper 8″ x 10″

Some of it I still lack words for, and I’m happy to be in a very different place in life now. My feelings about these works, and the experiences they represent, remain very complicated.

“Marriage” 1991, watercolor on paper, 8″ x 10″

When my first marriage ended, in 1995, I fought hard and went through much to keep a small painting that remains one of my very fondest pieces, and it hangs in my home even now. I’ve never managed to take a decent photograph of it, and I guess I’m okay with that.

By 2000 I was painting exclusively in acrylic, and doing a lot of 3D mixed-media work, abstractions and pieces that used a lot of glow, glitter, ceramic adornments, and often working quite large. There were certainly pieces I could call self-portraits in the years between 1995 and 2014, when this next piece was painted, but they weren’t necessarily intended that way. (I think art as a form of self-expression of necessity says something about the artist, one way or another.)

“The Price We Pay” 2014, acrylic on canvas with glow, glass, and ceramic details, 11″ x 14″ (the inclusion of the artist’s reflection intentional)

The last self-portrait I started on is still “work in progress”, and I don’t know that I’ll ever finish it. I’ve moved on from that moment. I don’t feel the way I did then, and I’m not sure I can finish it in an honest way because I have changed.

“Chained” acrylic on canvas with glow, ceramic, and chain, 18″ x 24″

So, here I am, now. This person, this woman, this artist, reflecting on self, and preparing to do one sort of self-portrait I’ve never done before; a work on commission for someone else. It’s an interesting project, and it is prompting me to reflect on details of the answer to a question in life that is simultaneously quite deep, and also quite mundane. Possibly one of the least useful questions one can ask oneself; because we already know the answer, however reluctantly we choose to acknowledge it. Self-reflection has value – but does it have hue? I chuckle to myself as I consider how best to portray the woman I see in the mirror every day.

Bald Peak Viewpoint Misty Morning

Apr2

I sought out this location with some plein air painting in mind, but what I actually got was a rainy day with muddy trails and mist-obscured views. It was beautiful in its own way, and worth the trip. I’ll go back again, when the weather is fair and try to get a look at the view this spot is known for. There are lovely spots with picnic tables convenient for lingering awhile, and I can see this location becoming a favorite spot to paint.

“Bald Peak Viewpoint Misty Morning” pastel on pastelbord 7.5″ x 9″, 2025

This piece was done using a combination of Blue Earth and Sennelier soft pastels, and inspired by the dense mist, and rain-drenched early spring landscape of grassy slopes and mature hemlock trees.

Spring on the Clackamas River

Mar26

My week scouting inspiring locations for a bit of plein air work took me out to the Clackamas River. I enjoyed a chilly morning of hiking new trails, and scouting likely spots to sit alongside the river somewhere taking in the view. I finally found “my spot”, and I know I’ll be going back there. The chilly gray day threatened rain, but I did manage to get a bit of painting done before heading for home.

This piece was painted with Sennelier and Blue Earth pastels, on Ampersand Pastelbord.

“Spring on the Clackamas River”
7″ x 9″ pastel on pastelbord, 2025

There and Back

Mar25

Inspiration is powerful stuff, but plans don’t always lead to the hoped for outcome, and that was certainly true of my recent time spent scouting beautiful places to do a bit of plein air painting. It rained. It rained like all the rain ever was going to have to fall on those days I was out on the trails and exploring new locations. I can’t be mad; I got some great hiking miles in, and took some useful pictures for later work – and I did find some great spots to paint on some future, less rainy, days.

What I mean to say is that it was time well-spent on new trails, seeing beautiful places, and being inspired, and it met my needs pretty well, in spite of not actually doing much painting. I managed two new pieces, one plein air, one in the warmth and comfort of home. More on those another time.

Funny thing, I found myself equally inspired in my own wee garden, and spent some of my time there, happily working in the Spring soil, and there’s probably a lesson there.

Inspiration & Adventure

Mar16

It’s been a couple months since my last new work came off the easel. Honestly, I’ve been feeling a bit cynical and gloomy due to the current state of things in the world and in the United States. It’s less than ideally inspiring. I need to get away from all that, and expose myself to new paths, new sights (and new sites), and I’ve decided to take a few days away from my “day job” to devote myself to creative endeavors, and get a bit of plein air work done here and there, places I’ve yet to visit, or passed through once upon a moment, intending to go back. Seems a good time for such things.

My thought is to begin each day quite early, go to my selected location, get a hike in and maybe some photographs for other work, some other day, and once the morning chill has eased a bit, get set up and paint for awhile. Maybe take a break in the afternoon to make coffee or enjoy a picnic bite and watch the light change before painting awhile longer, then make my way back home. I’ve got 4 such days planned, each with a different location (and a different “plan B” option just in case I’ve got to account for something unexpected). Should be fun. It’ll at least be time well-spent on creative things and self-care, and a momentary break from the day-to-day routine.

I’ve got a day planned for a riverside location, with good views, and convenient spots to work from. I’ve never been to this specific place, only passed by a couple times on my way elsewhere. I’ll be starting with this one.

A fairly poor picture of a very lovely spot.

The next day, I’ll head up into the hills (mountains?), to a creekside spot I’ve picnicked at a couple of times, and always thought I’d like to come back to do some plein air work, there. The view is pleasing, and easy to get to although quite out-of-the-way. The risk here is weather; it may have snowed up there. If that’s problematic, I’ve got a beautiful meadow location I’ve wanted to visit, with a pleasant easy hike I haven’t yet tried as my “Plan B”.

Another day, I’ve got planned for two locations rather near to each other, and not too far from home, that I’ve simply never gotten around to, but I’m eager to visit them. One has a spectacular view across the valley; I glimpsed it once as I passed it on a drive some time ago and have wanted to return, managing never to get around to it. The other is, so far, only a mark on a map – a place I’d like to visit.

My final day is planned for a State Park known for its waterfalls and trails. This is another that may have snow (and although I enjoy a snowy landscape, I dislike plein air painting with cold fingers! lol). My “plan B” for this one takes me quite the opposite direction, to the coast, to a picnic table nestled in a forest, very near a small rather private beach.

I’d share more pictures in this post, but in all but one case, I’ve never been to these places long enough to take a picture! Modest adventures, to be sure, nothing especially exotic, but lovely opportunities for painting and enjoying some solitary time with my thoughts. I look forward to sharing new work with you!

Frenzy

Feb16

Many years ago, during a difficult period in my life, and living (and painting) on very limited means, I found myself deeply inspired (and also very broke). It’s been rare to experience inspiration that overcame my senses to the point of painting “in a frenzy”, but there I was. It was an intensely creative few days of steady (mostly sleepless) work. I used up most of the paper and pigment on hand for three series of thirteen smallish pieces, varying a bit in size (I was in some cases working from scraps, but most of this first Frenzy series are roughly 5″ x 7″). I drank too much coffee, and washed my hands too seldom. It was, as I recall, 1997, in Fresno’s notorious Tower District.

I initially began with a notable focus on UV pigments, and interference colors, and any other similarly visually intense pigments I had on hand at the time. The series of work used a specific technical approach to creating the pieces throughout that resulted in a somewhat “Rorschach test” inspired set of images, which nudge the viewer to bring their own thoughts and impressions to each piece. I welcome your comments.

Frenzy XIII – “At the End, Whatever is Left Over”

These pieces are available for sale (each original, no copies or prints are available). Please contact me by email if interested.

Hard Times, Great Art

Jan21

I am thinking about art, feeling inspired, but too sick to paint today. It’ll pass, it’s not a big deal, just a cold or virus, or whatever. The local “ick”. So I look over old work that has not previously made it into this blog that I might share, and look for some theme.

Trying times, culturally and politically, in the USA. Hard times often produce some great art – which is not any sort of endorsement of hardship or chaos, it’s just a thing that occurs. It often seems the world is burning (wildfires, warfare, social upheaval)… I guess I’ll need more hues of red, orange, yellow… maybe some organic hues, and hues of violet and magenta? I look at older works that reflect other hard times…

Returning from deployment (Desert Storm) took me awhile to “sort out”. It was strange and difficult to come home to civilian life.

“Don’t Remind Me, I Can’t Forget” watercolor on paper, 16″ x 20″, 1992

Emotional pain, physical pain, cultural pain, violence, warfare, and hardship; it’s not the same sort of inspiration as I feel when I am inspired by love, or a beautiful sunrise. Painting just happens to be the way I communicate what I don’t have words for.

“Mea Culpa” watercolor on paper, 16″x 20″, 1992

A lot of living, a lot of memories, a lot of inspiration – some of it quite personal, some of it less so, are reflected in a lifetime of painting. I have done most of my painting in times of hardship, sorrow, and pain, because I didn’t have language for those experiences (and few experiences of joy in earlier years).

“All I Am” tinted linseed oil on paper, 8″ x 10″, 1988

We grow, we move on, we experience more and different and other, and we live again. I’m grateful that there have been more moments of joy than of hardship, and I’m grateful to be able to paint when I don’t have words. Hard times come and go, the art remains.

“Be Like Water” acrylic on canvas with glow and India ink, 12″ x 14″, 2018

Art and the Artist

Dec30

The year is winding down to a quiet finish. A new year is just about ready to begin. 2024 was a big year for me, artistically – I changed mediums after decades working in acrylic (and mixed media). I tried soft pastels for the first time and found myself utterly in love with them.

Newness being what it is, it has been a learning process with its own unique challenges, and this gets me thinking about art as a process (and a practice), and the artist as a being and a creator. There’s an “open question” here, and we each have to answer it our own way; do we seek out education, study independently, or just “do the damned thing”?

A stack of books, a holiday, and a path forward.

I was delighted to receive some books over the Yule holiday very much focused on art, two quite practical and technical, two that were more “depth of knowledge” oriented and less specifically focused on my needs in this moment. I’m content with that; I find my inspiration in a lot of places, including books. I’m eager to dive into each one – there’s so much to learn!

I’ve been surprised how deeply social pastel as a medium seems to be – so many groups and societies! I’ve had the opportunity to meet several well-estalished pastelists in my area – mind-blowing talent and amazing work. It’s quite humbling. Often. So many of these well-established artists are also credentialed professionals with impressive MFAs and CVs that read like grocery-lists of juried shows hither and thither. Amazing. I’m suitably impressed, no doubt – but is it my path? Hasn’t been. It’s not my way. I’m also not wholly inclined to just stumble about doing this-n-that discovering too late that it is a poor practice to mix this medium with that one, or to use X product as a fixative because it is known to damage the paint. Things like that are already known – and available to learn from well-sourced material. Artistically, I’ve tended to fall somewhere between; not particularly social (and less inclined to join things), unlikely to to enter juried shows (it’s quite a lot of work, and I’d rather just paint)… and as far as education goes? It’s a lot of time and money to spend on classroom instruction when I could read a book and spend more time at my easel. That’s tended to be my approach over a lifetime, and it has served me adequately well.

I’m not dissing artists with MFAs – for those with the commitment, time, and money, it’s an impressive and likely quite satisfying achievement. I’m not looking down on artists who “just do the damned thing” always learning as they go, mistakes and all. Those artists sometimes discover amazing things that we can all learn from and make use of. The art itself does not care one whit whether the hand holding the brush is an educated one.

What I’m really saying, I guess, is that it is a new year – a new opportunity – if you’re feeling inspired, create something! Buy that first set of paints and brushes, give it a try. Sign up for that course. Join that group. Be the artist you are, yourself, your way. We all benefit from that. Here’s to an exciting and inspired new year. ❤

Urban Warfare

Dec6

This piece is inspired by recent world events, global warfare, and the unsettling sensation that the world is on fire, which has begun to seep into my dreams. It’s not a coincidence that it is similar to “The Nightmare City”; it is a place I see often in my dreams. In my PTSD-fueled nightmares, I find myself on this street, looking up the road toward…what, exactly? The distance? What is beyond, I never quite find out, however long I walk – or run. Sometimes it helps to paint these images, sometimes it doesn’t.

Fireside II