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Portraits of the Artist

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.

“Joy” 1994, watercolor on paper 4″ x 6″

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.

Frenzy

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 I
Frenzy II
Frenzy III
Frenzy IV
Frenzy V
Frenzy VI
Frenzy VII
Frenzy VIII
Frenzy IX
Frenzy X
Frenzy XI
Frenzy XII
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

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

Urban Warfare

“Urban Warfare (world on fire)” pastel on pastelmat, 2024, 7″ x 9.5″

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.

Hand of Fatima

A look back a piece from 2019.

“Hand of Fatima” 8″ x 10″ acrylic mixed-media on canvas w/glitter and glow

This piece still gives me a feeling of peace and hope. It relies on a lot of glow, and one prominent “googly eye”.

“Hand of Fatima” seen in darkness after being charged under UV light.

Hard Times Make Great Art

Some folks – maybe a lot of people – are hurting right now. Feeling angry. Feeling devalued. Feeling that their voice doesn’t matter. Feeling powerless. Hard times are… hard. Hard times make great art. Always have.

…The world feels like it’s on fire, and there is war and destruction everywhere…

When I came home from Desert Storm, my painting style had changed (rather a lot), and the things on my mind began to percolate up through my art. I painted the war. I painted the chaos. I painted the things I didn’t have words for. I’ve used art to give voice to the things I don’t have words for “all along” – at least for the whole time I’ve been an artist.

“Kuwaiti Oil Fires” 20″ x 48″ oil on stretched silk, 1991

Shortly after I returned from the war, I gave up oil painting entirely, in favor of acrylic and pursued an abiding fascination with abstraction, and the use of nontraditional pigments and mixed-media elements in my work.

… And events just kept delivering hard times and trauma to reflect in art…

“9-11″ 18″ x 24” acrylic on canvas, 2001

Hard times come and go. Trauma is inflicted and endured, and trauma heals. The art remains.

I guess I’m just saying inspiration comes in many forms. Sometimes a beautiful sunrise on a favorite trailhead is enough. Sometimes events and circumstances provide inspiration of a different sort. I don’t know what to expect of my work from here, I only know I’ll keep feeling – and painting.

“Drone Strikes” 5″ x 7″ pastel on pastelbord, 2024

Sunrises, Sunsets

I’m enjoying a weekend in the studio, and finding much of my inspiration in recent sunrises and sunsets. Quite a bit of new work in progress. Details to come, once pieces are finished, but here’s a sneak peak…

Not yet titled, 6″ x 8″ acrylic on wood panel with glow
“McMinnville Sunset 2022″, inspired by a recent sunset, 12″ x 12” acrylic on canvas
“McMinnville Sunrise 2022″, inspired by a recent sunrise, 8″ x 10” acrylic on canvas with glow
Just started on the cloudy sky background for this piece, very much still work in progress, 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

I haven’t made enough room in my life lately for long weekends painting. It feels good to be back in the studio working creatively. I’m eager to see how these pieces develop, and getting them up for sale.

Every Dawn a Beginning

New work. I spent some time in the studio this past weekend (overdue). Filled with inspiration, I wasn’t at all sure my time would actually be productive. Decision-making paralysis is a real thing, and I had “too many ideas” and struggled to steady down and work on just one or two.

“Every Dawn a Beginning” 12″ x 12″, acrylic on canvas w/glow, glitter, and resin details. 2022

This particular small piece was inspired in part by the collaboration with my partner (a different sort of artist), who shot several airbrush backgrounds for me recently that got set aside for later use. “Later” finally came around, and I sat down on a somewhat stressful autumn afternoon to think things over and put those thoughts on canvas. I selected this unusual orange-yellow-peach blended background because it threw my usual color selections out the window and forced some fresh thinking on me. New perspective, and a fun result.

Once this piece is fully dried, I’ll charge up the glow and add an image of that alternate perspective on this largely very hopeful piece. Inspired by love, and gray autumn days, and an old love song.

Here’s the piece with the glow charged…

California Poppies & Summer Sunshine

I recently went wild re-organizing my studio. During the pandemic my studio has also served as my office (as is the case with many artists, I have a “regular” job to keep things steady), and working from home has turned out so splendidly that it’s become a professional preference and a lifestyle. I was overdue to put real thought and permanence into how my working space is arranged. With that done, I have also found myself feeling more inspired. Feels good. I’m hoping to make a more regular practice of posting here, new work as it comes, and also getting some of the older work uploaded and made available for sale.

Yesterday I spent time painting and thinking about my “workflow” in my studio. I finished one small piece and started a couple others. It feels good to be back in the studio. The feeling of joy and creative energy hit the canvas as “California Poppies & Summer Sunshine”, a small 6″x6″ acrylic on canvas, with glitter and glow. I’ll photograph this piece again with other light sources once it has completed dried (there is a lot of glow on this one).

Small piece, small picture. “California Poppies & Summer Sunshine”, 2022

This small piece is intentionally playful. It’s been a lovely summer, and feels worth a little celebration. That’s what this piece has in mind. The smaller image above is intended to provide a perspective a bit more like walking past it (hanging in a corridor, perhaps). If you’d like a closer look…

Closer image showing glitter details. “California Poppies & Summer Sunshine” 2022

I’ll update this post with the glow-in-the-dark charged up, later this week.