A walk on a crisp autumn afternoon inspired this piece. The breeze was chilly, the leaves rustled, showing off their fall colors. It was a beautiful sparkling moment.
This piece takes advantage of the vibrant hues of fall in my selection of Schmincke pastels. It is available for sale.
Inspired by a recent sunrise, seen in McMinnville, Oregon. I find sunrises give me a sense of hope. I’ve been needing them a lot more lately. This is available for sale.
This piece is my largest pastel to-date, and is also on a different surface; Sennelier pastel card. I did my very first pastel on a small sample and I was very pleased with the results. I like the coarseness of the grit on this card stock. It holds pigment well. More delightfully than the texture and tooth of the card stock, I really like how well it stays flat (unlike the Claire Fontaine Pastelmat, which reliably curls).
Inspired by the dread and destruction of western wildfires during dry summer months. This piece is painted using Blue Earth, Sennelier, and Henr Roche pastels, on Claire Fontaine Pastelmat.
“Skyline Sunset” soft pastel on Pastelmat, 7″ x 9.5″, 2026
This piece was inspired by a quiet moment looking over a quantity of sunset images in various urban areas that were shared with me (or taken by me) over recent years. Rather than a copy of any one of those, this piece seeks to capture a certain quality of cities and sunrises.
This piece was painted using Blue Earth, Sennelier, and Henri Roche pastels, and is available for sale.
“Seeing Red” soft pastel on Pastelmat, 7″ x 9.5″, 2026
Emotions are tricky. Some of them pull us in, until we lose ourself in some small detail.
This piece is painted using a combination of Henri Roche, Blue Earth, and Sennelier soft pastels, and is available for sale.
Time is a finite resource, it passes. Unused minutes get lost along the way. My last new pastel (or painting in any medium) was November 30th of 2024. That seems a very long time ago, though I’ve had at least one other very long period without new creative work.
I delighted myself with clearing the clutter from my studio and getting my workspace set up once again, over the past week. It feels functional, and the work feels satisfying. Maybe that’s enough?
I haven’t had the use of my studio for the time between July 1st of 2024 until quite recently – yesterday, actually, call it not quite two years. I happily sat down at my tabletop easel this morning, and did the first piece of new work in a long time. I have mixed feelings about it, which does not surprise me a bit. I’ve had plenty to inspire me over this past two years, and finally sitting down to do something about it feels a bit…strange. I’ll get over it. lol
Instead of giving up after one piece, I sat with my thoughts and an assortment of photographs from recent hikes and visits to hidden coastal places. After spending some time refreshing my recollections of a particular favorite spot, I got back to work.
It feels good to be painting again. I cue up a new playlist. More to come…
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.
I’m enjoying exploring this theme of campfires – almost as much as I enjoy sitting by the fireside on a chilly evening in the darkness. This is one of those themes I’ll likely continue to play with until I get that feeling that I’ve “gotten it right” or said all I have to say about it, somehow.
I took a few days of dowtime on the Oregon coast to paint and reflect. Time well-spent, but I was missing a certain specific experience that I often indulge when I go camping in milder weather (this trip was a hotel stay, with a lovely view of Siletz Bay) – hours sitting by a campfire, just staring into the embers and listening to the flames crackle. I had it on my mind, and it proved to be sufficiently inspiring to try to capture that yearned-for moment in pastel.
Inspired by a year of stress, this piece is the first abstract work I’ve done in pastel. Small, because honestly stress doesn’t need a boost to feel huge.
