
Inspired by a vibrant September sunrise at a local trailhead. A favorite source of inspiration for me is the opportunity to watch the sunrise before a hike.

Inspired by a vibrant September sunrise at a local trailhead. A favorite source of inspiration for me is the opportunity to watch the sunrise before a hike.

An exploration of light and color, inspired by summer Dahlias at a local market. This piece is done using Henri Roche pastels on Ampersand pastel board.

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’ve got a number of pastels now, and the additional supplies I need to begin exploring what is, for me, an entirely new medium. I may have gone a bit overboard, as starting points go, but I dislike half-way measures, and I’ve reliably found that good quality pigments and well-prepared canvases or good quality paper selected with the purpose in mind gets a better result that “going cheap” – which can often turn out to be more expensive than investing in good materials with care.

My pastels? I’ve selected Sennelier for my “basics”, choosing a variety selection of 40 half-sticks from a local art supply shop (to try them out and make damned certain I wanted to proceed with this exciting change), and the 80 half-stick landscape selection, which don’t overlap (as far as I can see). I added (very much an artistic “treat”) a selection of 12 Henri Roche half-sticks (their “vivid” assortment), less because I needed them – I just wanted them very much after seeing a video about their history and how they are made. It was this video that initially inspired me to consider pastels as an artist.

I found a nice Richeson “Roz Box” pastel case, used. I purchased a set of Rosemary & Co brushes and tools selected for pastels, and some Pastelmat in a comfortable size for “everyday work” as I take my first steps in this new (to me) medium.
Looks like it’s time to paint!
Every journey starts with a first step. Every painting begins with an idea. The Sennelier pastels came with a small piece of their sanded card paper, and I started there, exploring the colors, getting a feel for the medium, learning more about my limitations, my ignorance, and the nature of soft pastels (the dust! the smudging! the beautiful luminous hues!).

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
A lot of my work is inspired by things I find more difficult to put into words. Emotions. Profound joy. Deep sorrow. Painful memories. Nightmares.
This piece is acrylic on canvas, 8″ x 10″ with glitter and glow-in-the-dark. It’s a painting in my personal collection that has a fairly practical purpose for me; it anchors me in the here-and-now when I wake abruptly from a nightmare. It is my “nightmare city” – a place I frequently come back to in my bad dreams and PTSD-fueled nightmares. I charge the glow with bright light before I retire for the evening, and if I wake, the painting is glowing brightly in the darkness, reminding me where I am, that I am awake, and that I’ve left the nightmare city behind.

Charged, and viewed in red light…

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.
Funny title for a painting, I suppose. It has a backstory. Perhaps I’ll share that with a buyer one day. Perhaps not. This 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas piece has details that include glow-in-the-dark pigments and glitter. It was inspired by a brightly glowing luminous round full moon and the shimmering waves beneath it one mild October night in 2022.

I’m in the studio working on unfinished projects and new work, on this last day of 2021. Seems a good way to mark the end of one year, the transition to the next, as much as anything is. It’s rare for me to hold on to unfinished work long – most pieces are finished within a few days, at most. One or two, over some 40 years as a painter, have lingered months (even years) before finally being finished. Complex work, sometimes, other times it’s been more about a change of context, circumstance, or emotion, that stalls the work and then, more rarely, it becomes lost in the noise of a busy life, forgotten until discovered some time later.

Currently, I have 14 unfinished canvases, in various stages of completion, and the oldest of these is a piece I began back in 2015 (a self-portrait). 6 years later, and I am still not ready to finish it (I may have missed my moment on that one). The rest of them are a mixed bag of lost inspiration, technical challenges I haven’t solved yet, and “what the fuck-ery” (where the piece somehow just isn’t coming together as I envisioned, and I haven’t sorted out what to do to recover the piece in some other way).
I hope to end this year here in the studio, in some productive fashion. I hope to begin the new year also here in the studio, productively, looking ahead with new vision. I don’t really do “resolutions” to celebrate the new year. This next year I do hope to post more of my work here, make more of it more easily available, and give a little more time and attention to the craft of the business of art.
I cue the next track on this playlist and get to work.