A look back a piece from 2019.

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

A look back a piece from 2019.

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


I take a lot of early morning hikes. I see a lot of sunrises. No suprise then that I also paint a lot of sunrises. This view is a favorite one, from “my” parking place at a favorite trail. I see the sun rise from this vantage point often. This colorful sunrise, a view seen in September (as I recall) was quite a splendid one, and I did my humble best to capture it, although there is no universe in which art could accurately convey the beauty of the colors I saw that morning. I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep wondering at those beautiful sunrises.

The full moon shortly before daybreak at the edge of a meadow inspired this piece. For me, this one is an autumn moment, in September; shorter days and later sunrises sometimes taking me by surprise, thinking I’ll be hiking, but finding myself waiting for the sun. The subtle violets and cobalt blues are among the delights of the Henri Roche pastels.

Reflecting on the recent drive to the coast on my last painting getaway, I worked from the recollection of the drive, similar other sunset drives, and the view of a sunset in-progress from the balcony of my hotel room. It was a fun quick piece that I did while the sunset flared to full vividness, and finished as it faded.

This piece illustrates how very much art is in the eye of the beholder, and how little control over that an artist really has. I painted this from the balcony of my hotel room on a misty morning, watching the mist fill the spaces between distant hills on the other side of Siletz Bay. Shortly before, I’d received a worried phone call from my partner, uneasy about the potential of a tsunami (because I’d earlier messaged at how interesting it was to be able to see the tide coming in so easily from my vantage point, then suddenly stopped replying while I was painting this very piece). When I shared the completed work with my partner, he saw the image as tsunami-like, more than any impression of a misty morning. Funny how that goes.

I painted this with stormy weather in mind, and recollections of my July trip to the coast, watching a storm approach from the western horizon, dropping showers as it passed over the ocean and the bay.
I’ve found that one challenge using unmounted Pastelmat is the paper tends to warp just a bit when I remove the masking tape I use to mask off the border and release it from the surface I’ve secured it to. This observation inspired the subsequent (recent) switch to Ampersand Pastelbord, although I’m not firmly committed to one or the other surface; they each have their advantages. This piece was photographed immediately after completion, and before I had pressed it flat again.

Early work in a new (for me) medium. This piece is inspired by September sunrises I have enjoyed this year at a local trailhead. This piece uses a combination of Sennelier and Henri Roche soft pastels, on Ampersand pastel board.
As was the case when I first picked up a paint brush, in the early 1980s, I find myself most inspired by landscapes presently. Perhaps it is as simple as “seeing them everywhere” that makes landscape painting so approachable when I am exploring the first work in a new medium? Watercolor, oil, acrylic…they each followed a typical (of me) flow, first landscape, then botanical work or some still life, eventually breaking things down in new increasingly abstract ways. I wonder where pastels will take me, over time?
It’s been a bit more than a month since I made the switch from many years (a lifetime, really) of working in acrylic and 3D mixed media. So much has happened since then, and I’ve been enjoying my first explorations in pastel. I’m definitely enjoying the brands I’d selected (a combination of Sennelier and Henri Roche, and a small assortment of iridescent hard pastels from Sakura’s Nouvelle Carre’ line, some of which I’d apparently purchased “back in the day”, and lay long-forgotten in a box).

I took a couple days of solo creative time, late in July, and “played in the colors” without any specific agenda or rigid goals. It was very much an exploratory time, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. The results were sometimes a bit humbling (how am I this messy??), and often satisfying and delightful.

Still, it’s not about neat vs messy, so much as the results, and I am pleased with those. I’ve surprised myself, too; of the new work, one piece is already sold, and two others are already spoken for. I did not expect that. This works for me. I also did not expect this medium to feel so… wholesome? Pure? Freeing.
I’ll no doubt do a post for each of these individually at some point, although they are part of the same weekend’s work. I hope you enjoy taking a look at my most recent work, and the first in this medium.





I don’t recall what specifically inspired this piece, painted after a stormy October weekend in Lincoln City, Oregon. Depending on the quality of the light in the room, it can appear as a stormy afternoon, or the twilight of evening.

Shot in different light:

This is one of several pieces that I spent time on in 2020 and 2021, without doing much about documenting the work or sharing it; we’d just moved into our house in McMinnville, Oregon, and frankly life was pretty busy. lol
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…




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.