"Oyster and knife"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 8"

It's ironic that I love to paint (and slurp) oysters but I couldn't unhinge a raw one if my life depended on it. I've watched the process a thousand times. It looks so simple when my friend George does it, of course he is a world champion oyster shucker. To be fair, I haven't tried in a long while.

This beauty and a host of its siblings were brought to a party I attended recently by a very thoughtful and well received guest. Carried in a joint compound bucket, along with the accouterments for opening them, they were dredged from the river flowing past his backyard. Thankfully he also brought the skill to retrieve the bounty within. Someday I'll try again when the fear of a stigmata has past.

"Crustaceans"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

Baltimore has long been called "the land of pleasant living" in advertisements for National Bohemian beer. Natty Boh being the proper drink of choice to wash down a dozen steamed crabs. Tossed unceremoniously on brown Kraft paper or on yesterdays news, these steaming hot crustaceans are what makes living in Maryland so special. In New England, arthropods are treated more upscale, often accompanied by a tenderloin filet and a fine Cabernet. The French take seafood to yet another level, pun intended. Their "plateau de fruits de mer" is a thing of beauty. Assorted shellfish and crabs are artfully arranged on a tower of ice filled splendor. You can find these in just about every brasserie in Paris. I hated to deconstruct these glorious edible works of art, although they were delicious.

"Oysters,Guinness and lemon"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 5” x 7”

Shiver me timbers!  It be September me hearties and that be a month with an Arrrrr. Davy Jones has once again given up some of his treasure from the briny deep. In this case that be the Whale Rock oyster from the Mystic River in Connecticut. Sink me, it's time to splice the mainbrace. Fair winds!

OK, enough with the Captain Jack already!  Do we have an accord? (sorry)  I was in a funk yesterday and wasn't really in the mood to paint but regrouped later in the day to push around some paint.  This piece is little more than a sketch but I like the spontaneity of it.  There is something satisfying about scratching your name into wet paint.  It is tantamount to carving your name in a tree, perhaps more so.  Even the hardiest tree will fall but a work of art will go on. Unless the piece is total dreck, I don't know anyone who throws away art.*  It may get passed around or given to the goodwill perhaps, but not thrown in the bin.  The world is full of works of art that perchance should be tossed, but like an ugly child, someone will love them. So paint carefully my brothers and sisters.  If the world is still around, and you have used good materials, the by product of your creative efforts will be around long after you are gone. There is a reason why they make "student grade" materials - planned obsolescence.

  *I went to my 20th high school reunion back in 1990 and ran into a girl with whom I exacted my very first painting transaction.   It was a piece I had done in Studio class my senior year of my friend Danny rising from a field of weeds or wildflowers (this was the sixties, baby, and we were letting our freak flag fly.)  I was very flattered when this girl (a very attractive girl, I might add. One who I never had the nerve to even talk to) ask if she could buy it.  Hitherto, I had not thought about pricing or even selling my work, so her question caught me off guard.  "Sure," I stammered, "How about 10 bucks" This was a lot of money in 1969, at least it was to me.  She agreed and we made the exchange.  When I saw her again at the reunion, I asked about the painting.  She informed me that her husband didn't like it and threw it out.  Not gave it away, mind you...THREW IT OUT!!  So much for my first sale. 

"Red Hot Chili Peppers"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 6”

"Radishes" - What's the madder?

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 6”

What's the Madder?  I am talking about rose madder lake, a very expensive, crimson-like pigment, which I have in my paint box but never seem to have had an opportunity to put on my palette (until now).  I was at the market on Saturday and these radishes called out to me.  "Paint me, paint me!" they shouted.  Radishes don't always agree with me, nor I them, but this time they were making sense.  Wegman's has an automatic misting device in their produce department, and, as if on queue, the spray nozzles came to life and applied a dazzling sheen to these guys that intensified their color and sealed the deal.  If I needed another reason, other than the classic, Christmasy goodness of the color scheme, the tips of this vegetable, just before going white, are a distinctive rose madder hue.  I  had to have them, if only to pull out that dusty tube and give it a little squeeze. Why did I buy the pigment in the first place?  I had heard of its beauty and during a half-off sale at my local art emporium, dropped a tube in my basket.  This place marks their prices in code - pigment such and such is "Code A", another "Code B" and so on. When I got to the counter, I found out what "Code E" was.  Even half off, the small tube of pigment was $35.00. What the hell, I bought it anyway, and there it has sat until now.  I could have faked it with alizarin crimson, but why?

From Horse Feathers:

Student: Oh, Professor, you're full of whimsy. 

Professor Wagstaff: Can you notice it from there? I'm always that way after I eat radishes.

"Red and Yellow Peppers"

Oil on museum quality 1/8th"ampersand Gessobord panel - 6" x 6"

What can I say about the pepper? Beautiful, flavorful, essential ingredient in the cuisine of so many countries. I don’t think a day goes by without them passing my lips in one form or another. Of course, in my case it would be the smaller, hotter cousins - the Jalapeño and the habanero. As my friends will attest; "Scoville" is my middle name. It was good fun painting this piece. The reds reflecting off the yellow and vise versa kept me engaged and enthraled. For such a small painting it packs a lot of punch, even from across the studio. I’ve been digging the red paint lately. I wonder if that is meaningful?

"Mardi Gras Masks"

I painted this a while ago as a birthday gift for a friend. Many of you know that New Orleans is my adopted second home and a place I visit with some frequency. We are headed down there next month, Whoo, hoo! Anyway, this painting was given away wet and very few people saw it, so here it is. "Laissez les bons temps rouler!"

Sails, sales, soldes

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Oil on museum quality, archival 1/8" ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 6"

I set sail on this daily painting odyssey almost 4 months ago and though life sometimes intruded into this adventure, a lot of creativity happened along the way, both process and product. As I trimmed my canvas and picked up speed, I started gathering faithful devotees to the site who anxiously awaited my latest work of art. What a wonderful thing to have art groupies. The downside of this is that I hate to disappoint them on days when it doesn’t flow from the hand or I am working on larger projects. Months before I was accepted into the daily painters, I painted some fun things, many of which have left the building. Those that remained had no more audience than my friends and the occasional visitor to the studio. On the days that I am working on a commission, a larger piece for a show, or just plain don’t get one done; I am going to repost these orphans for my daily painter patrons to more easily view. I promise not to abuse this. There are only a handful of these lonely panels left in the studio. Shamed to be left behind, the last picked for the volley ball team in gym class, they long to find a wall to call their own and to hang with their own kind. I am going to put these waifs on eBay to try and find them a loving home.

I can’t believe I used a sailing metaphor to begin this entrée, everyone knows I loath sailing. Perhaps it was having a “sale” of my remaining panels that put it in my head. My wife and I found ourselves in Paris a few years ago in January. Why would anyone go to Paris in January when April and May are available? We were there celebrating my friends 50th birthday. Unbeknownst to us, Janvier is the month when the stores all have their winter sales. As we strolled through the Odeon, window shopping, we thought it odd that shops would put merchandise in the windows that was already sold. We eventually figured out that “solde” is French for “sale” and not some cruel, perverse joke played on the consumer as a reminder to shop early.

It’s “neat” that I didn’t use puns like; my hopes were dashed “on the rocks” or that I was “smokin’” – I thought about it.

By way of a long voyage, with the wind at my back, I give you once again – “Boston Legal” (November 2007 blog entry)

"Shell shocked"

Oil on museum quality archival 1/8" ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 6"

I hesitated to post this painting tonight because I wasn't happy with it. I was pressed for time and I thought “Hey, I’ll just knock out a simple shell.” Boy. was I wrong. I have new respect for my fellow painters who do this well. I’m shocked, shocked to find out just how difficult the convincing depiction of a shell really is. The reflections are soft and must be handled very gently and the rainbow of iridescent color changes are mind boggling. To quote Scarlett O’Hara; "I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow."

Scene 2 - A studio in Reisterstown; 7:00am

"Look, what envious streaks do lace the severed clouds in yonder east. Nights candles are burnt out, and yocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops." It is tomorrow and the soft light of dawn is flowing into the studio and playing off the prism of color on the shell...and to think, I almost lost this to the rag. A lesson from Treebeard: Don't be hasty!

Bombay Sapphire martinis

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Oil on archival, museum quality 1/8" gessobord panel - 5" x 7"

I don’t know whether I am feeling particularly patriotic today or if I am caught up in the red state / blue state political rivalries that are dividing our country, but the red, white and blue palette of this piece can’t be denied. Since I am an independent, moderate, it is a good thing that purple is my favorite color. Certainly 2008 is going to be an interesting year that may require more than one of these martinis before it’s over. I am a scotch man myself although I wouldn’t turn down a good dry martini. "Here's looking at you, kid."

I was hesitant to try this composition on a bright red tablecloth as I thought that the subtleties of the pale aqua tones of the gin would be lost. To my surprise, the bottle took on a deep cobalt/ultramarine hue. Painting the Harley last week only whetted my appetite for more chrome, so the cocktail shaker was a good fit. My biker brothers say “chrome won’t get you home” but I am a sucker for the stuff. Now where did I put my shades?

"petit déjeuner français"

Oil on archival, museum quality, 1/8” Ampersand Gessobord™ panel - 6" x 6"

O.K. campers, here is the first little painting of the new year. I am going to Paris at the end of the month and this plate of croissants and bread is a small reminder of my last sojourn across the big pond.