“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.
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.
“Drone Strikes” 5″ x 7″, pastel on Pastelbord, 2024
This piece is a war-themed piece, inspired by the terrifying devastation of drone strikes in modern warfare, and specifically the successful attacks by Ukraine which destroyed Russian ammo depots in the summer of 2024. This piece is not for sale.
It’s been more than a year since I last posted in this space. Life has been busy, and generally not artistically, just busy. I lost a dear friend this year, and with her passing I somehow lost a lot of inspirational fuel as well. Unexpected. Health. Aging. Mortality. Just the usual “human stuff” getting in the way of creative work, and here I am – more than a year later, with very little to show for it.
My last notable time spent in the studio was last November. I spent that working on an unfinished piece, “Toxicity”, and had this to say about it:
So this seems to be “the thing that’s been holding me back” in some subtle way; unfinished, and staring back at me in a mocking way, as if to say “you still can’t get past this one, and fuck you for thinking you could”. She’s the face of my chaos and damage. She’s the face of every abusive relationship, every stupid confrontation, every bit of seemingly senseless drama where my rather face-value take on things sometimes leaves me missing some obvious bit of imminent drama that plays to someone else’s sheet music. She’s the hidden agenda. She’s the pointless lie. She’s the temptation that destroys. She’s even the demon within me seeking more bad company to pull me from my better path. She’s the unaddressed past. She’s the poison we deliver to ourselves. She’s the pretty package that is empty inside. She’s “Toxicity”.
“Toxicity”, acrylic mixed-media on canvas with glow, 2023 (unfinished)
She’s not yet finished. The distortions to the mask were a bit of work, and I stalled shortly after I figured that out – which was sometime ago! Seems so long ago now, and carrying this burden has been… heavy. I’ve quite a lot more to do with this one, but working on it takes a bit out of me every time, as if I am exorcising this demon as I work. She is entirely inspired by ______, although she’s come to represent so much more as I have continued down my path, taking my own internal journey, and working through my bullshit. 11 x 14, mixed media on canvas with glow, tiny coins, molded plastic… and eventually a crown of shards of glass (no kidding – but I found some suitable broken float glass that had been “wave tumbled” and I think it’s a good choice), and some metallic strands of tightly coiled fine wire for hair. Being patient enough to let the glow gel around those coins dry today is hard, but I still need to figure out things like attaching the glass and the wire, and also decide whether the assorted small keys for earrings is too much… but… she’s been a key to so many things, and truly holding me back…so… it fits, yeah? And also… fuck this bitch – and the one who inspired her.
I wrote those words to my departed friend, and it seems a lifetime ago, now. It has been a long while. I’d nearly finished the work on this piece, hopeful I’d exorcised this demon, when my friend passed. Suddenly, it was too late to share new work, too late for deep conversations about life, or art, or anything at all. I found myself entirely stalled and began sloppily using my studio for storage space.
I think I’ve gotten myself sorted out now, and ready to tackle new work. I definitely want to. The challenge? I don’t at all want to do what I’ve done before. I’m hungry for something really new, really different.
Going through boxes and things and getting the studio in order for creative work to come, I found an old cigar box with some odds and ends art supplies in it, tucked in a corner of a drawer, forgotten.
Pastels and colored pencils, barely used at all.
I feel inspired again…
A pivot to an entirely new medium is no small thing, and I’ve no idea where this will take my work. My studio needs an overhaul with this change in mind, so I’ll be taking a look at work currently in storage (unsold) and developing a plan to thin that out through some kind of sale, very soon.
“Kuwaiti Oil Fires” 48″ x 20″ oil on stretched silk, 1991 was one of the last paintings I ever painted in oil. Soon after, I gave up oil painting in favor of acrylic.
I served on active duty in the United States Army. I deployed for Desert Shield. I participated in the ground war during Desert Storm. I will never forget the sight of the fires on the horizon, during the night, as we convoyed through a minefield during the start of the ground war, at the end of February, 1991. The terrible destruction, the ferocity of it, even at a distance – there’s no forgetting it. This painting hangs in my home, a part of my permanent collection, a reminder of what human beings make themselves capable of, and at what terrible cost it comes.
If we measure the worth of art by the weight of it’s meaning to the artist who creates it, this is one of my most precious works. It is certainly one that is heavy with the weight of its meaning to me, personally. I stretched the canvas for it myself, with the help of my partner-at-the-time. I used silk, in order to stretch it very tight, and for the exceedingly fine grain of the fabric. I prepared the canvas myself. I made use of unusual pigments, caput mortuum, asphaltic emulsion, and others now lost not only from the sales catalog, but also from my recollection. I painted it hoping, somehow, to communicate a moment, and an experience, to share the unshareable. It is a favorite piece with visitors to my home, and it struck me strangely, this morning, that I hadn’t written about it.
It’s very different than more recent work. It remains quite dear to me, and a painful reminder that there are no “do-overs” for some of the choices we make.
“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011
“Anxiety” was painted in 2011, and speaks to a common experience for many of us. There’s not much more to say about this piece; personifying Anxiety, deifying it, colors so many of our lives. We live in its embrace, or in its shadow. I painted her, myself, hoping that her visage looking back would make her easier to conquer. I don’t think that it did, but here she is. This piece is for sale for $250.