"Nautilus Shell"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

Reoccurring themes and revisiting familiar subjects have been an artist's prerogative throughout history so who am I to go against tradition?  I used this shell as a model a few months ago and was pleased with the result with the exception that it was perhaps too small.  That painting  "Victorian Nautilus Shell" was as much about the stand as it was the shell.  In this iteration I let the shell take center stage.  The little bit of verdigris stand showing was such a gas to paint that I may have to scrounge around for more old brass objets d'art to play with in the future. 

"Piper's Jellyroll"

Oil on linen mounted on birch wood panel - 6” x 8”

...but you can call me Cherry.  Yesterday I said I hated the color orange and here I am using that color again.  What's up with that?  While I do have an issue with "pumpkin" orange, its spectral cousins I actually enjoy visiting my palette on occasion.  Burnt Sienna, Venetian red, Cadmium red light - all welcome guests.  Indeed, I don't think I could paint a portrait without their help. It was proposed that I make the background of this painting less solid and flat.  I maintain that by contrasting the mottled brushwork of the fur and having painted it the hue of Cherry's chromatic complement, it takes on a contemporary, graphic quality.  My question to you, gentle viewers is this - Without adding extraneous elements (i.e. pillows, walls, floors, etc.), do you think this painting is too stark?  Would the addition of a gradient background, more brushwork or pulling some umber into the background add or detract from the piece?  Let me know what you think.

"Lobster and Riesling"

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

I have never been a big fan of the color orange.  I don't know what is is about that particular spectral wavelength that upsets me, but it does.  It shouldn't - the official team colors of the Baltimore Orioles are black and orange.   The colors of Harley-Davidson's ubiquitous  bar and shield logo are black and orange.  The colors of Halloween are black and orange.  The only time I am comfortable with the color orange is when it is emanating from a huge pile of steamed crabs , hot boiled crawfish or a 2 pound Maine lobster waiting to be cracked open and it's succulent meat dipped in melted butter.  There are a plethora of artists out there dining at the wine table, their labels painstakingly rendered with the utmost care and precision.  I fear that I will never be mistaken for one of them.  I choose a much freer approach and kept the painting loose and sketchy.  After all, it is a daily painting.  

Piper

Oil on canvas mounted on wood panel - 6" x 8"

Most men of my generation remember fondly the illustrations in the Playboy Advisor section of Playboy magazine by the iconic Patrick Nagel. (We read it for the articles, after all.) Nagel left us too early back in 1984 but he left a legacy of graphic images that are imprinted onto our very souls. I have lived happily with one of his silkscreens for many years. A friend recently sent me an image of her daughter that begged for the Nagel treatment. Stripping the image to its base elements, although second nature in the silkscreen process, is not intuitive when painting in oil. Doing this, however, allowed for a graphic image that harkened back to those lovely illustrations of my youth. Thank you, Patrick.

"La Grande Dame"

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

After all the organic subjects that I have been painting lately I thought some wine corks might be a fun change of pace. I assured my wife that this painting was a piece of cake and that it would be done at 10:00, 10:15 at the latest. I had scrubbed in the corks and I just needed to pop in the medallions and there it is. Well Cinderella is getting nervous about the ball at the point where I finally got around to putting the smile on Veuve Clicquot's Grande Dame. The clock in the studio is tolling midnight as I type this. Break out the champagne!

"Olive"

Oil on linen mounted on birch wood panel - 6” x 8”

It may seem like I'm in a rut since I've been back in the studio - dog then seafood - seafood then dog. Fear not! I have no intention to paint crustaceans, mollusks, bivalves or any other sea creatures tomorrow. Of course I never plan these things. "What, never?" Well...hardly ever. Some days I wake up and everything is potential fodder for the daily paintings. I have a hundred compositions waiting in the wings. (Oh dear God, not another theatre metaphor) Other days those same images seem flat. (Here we go again with the self-doubt bull shit) I may have to paint dear little Anna, who is currently nestled in my lap, causing me to type with one hand. She looks like a furry Queen Elizabeth in her blue collar - very regal. We shall see. Tomorrow is another day.

"Crawfish"

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

Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans? I sure do. Here in Baltimore we have steamed blue crabs, which I love, but when I'm in New Orleans, put 5 pounds of boiled crawfish in front of me along with a couple of Dixie long necks and I'm in heaven. I tried to have a bit of fun with this piece. Once again I started with a black gessoed panel and reduced the elements to their essentials. Shape and color take center stage with form playing a minor role. The bay leaf supernumerary enjoyed a mute but important part in the production. Crawfish don't taste nearly as good as when eaten off the latest edition of the New Orleans Times Picayune.

"Fruits de Mer"

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

See, I told you there would be something nice today.

"What's it all about, Elfie?"

Oil on archival ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 6"

I know what you are thinking - "So this is it?!  We've waited two weeks for this?!  WTF!!"

When you have been away from the easel as long as I have you want to come back nice and easy so as not to get frustrated.  I have had dear little Elfie in the queue for a very long time.  She may not be Champion O'neill's Elf-girl of Baltimore, but to my friend Deb she is mistress of the house and protector of her domicile.  She may not look like much but you should have seen her before she was rescued.  I have a soft spot for strange looking creatures.  Speaking of which, I am trying to type this with my 18 years old Siamese Anna on my lap.  She has had a very tough week.  An abscess sent her to the veterinarian last week and she had to have some serious surgery to remove a large patch of dead tissue - no small feat for an old cat.  Both front paws have been shaved for the IV's and half her hind quarters.  On top of that she has on an Elizabethan collar to prevent her from biting the 5" of stitches - making her look like a lamp.  She is very unhappy and embarrassed but doing well.  JJ went lame in mid May and was misdiagnosed with a torn ligament.  It turns out that it is some sort of neurological problem.  He is walking around the studio like Quasimoto and we still don't know the answer.  That is why I haven't had the heart to paint.  That and I have had the tooth ache from hell, the antibiotics for which have knocked me out.  The tooth comes out on Friday - yippee.  Though the composition was simple, I had fun with the brushwork on this painting.  I have something more intricate planned for tomorrow - no, really.

Almost there

By now I'm certain that even my loyal followers have given up on this blog.  Traveling, even for pleasure, is not conducive to creative production.  Illness is worse and worrying about sick pets can be devastating to creativity.   I'm dealing with all these and more at present.  Life just seems to get in the way of art.  I have new respect for my creative brothers and sisters who seem to work through adversity.  My mind doesn't work that way.  I guess I am too sensitive for my own good.  Perhaps that is why I chose this artists life, or did it choose me?

"Marti Gras"

Oil on archival 1/8" ampersand gessobord panel - 5" x 7"

You all know how I love comments, but you needn't leave them to tell me, " It's Mardi Gras, dummy!"  The title is a word play on my model Marti.  This is only the second painting I've done painted on black gesso. It is interesting painting backwards and I like the little black touches flecked throughout the piece.  The final result is more illustrative than the photo-realistic quality a white gessoed support produces. 

je regrette

I have been in Birmingham since Sunday and don't get back into the Studio until Thursday, then I'm off to the Americade rally in Lake George for a week from early Saturday until the following Sunday. I hope to do a piece on Thursday but I am fairly certain Friday is shot, so the next new painting will be the following Tuesday. Mark your calendars for June 10th, which ironically would have been my Uncle Bob's 75 birthday.

"I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille"

Oil on linen mounted on birch wood panel - 6" x 8"

Another version of the inimitable Cujo, the wonder dog.  Sadly, the photo doesn't do the painting justice.  The subtle hues of his fur got lost in translation.  There are some fun hints of prussian blue in the fur and the brushwork is more in evidence than this photograph would indicate.

"Girls in the Garden"

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

Something a little different tonight. I was in the art supply store today picking up some new brushes when I spied black gesso. I had heard rumors about it and thought it might be an amusing diversion. Any artist can tell you that there are few things more frightening than staring at that bright white rectangle first thing in the morning. That first stroke is a killer. Painting on a black support, while no less daunting, was great good fun. You are working backwards, pulling the light and color out of the darkness. It also allows for more freedom to swish with equanimity, as you are not plagued with those bits of white shining through.

I had a friend staying with me this past week who sang for her supper (which was fitting, as she is a Mezzo-Soprano) by modeling for me. In front of my house is a pond with a weathered statue of a girl standing next to a gargoyle spurting water. Young, brave and uninhibited, Laura acquiesced to pose in front of the pond, undaunted by the slippery rocks, bullfrogs and the possibility of unexpected visitors. The irises were in full bloom and she lightly stepped over the pond to become part of the landscape. We played there as long as was prudent. Ten minutes after we had returned to the studio, the UPS man arrived with a package. I'm sure he wonders why I am always home in the afternoon. Wouldn't he have been jealous to know why. I'm certain my neighbors refer to me as the crazy artist on the hill, so perhaps he is already aware of my occupation and preoccupation with the female form. I have answered the door in a paint smeared apron with a brush perched behind each ear on more than one occasion, which might have been a clue.

A few years ago I took a photography class at the Maryland Institute College of Art called "The nude in the landscape." One day our class was shooting in the old Mount Royal Train Station, which is part of the College. A far off whistle alerted us to an oncoming freight train. We were working with two models that day; a perky young model named Stephanie and a very dark skinned ex prize fighter named Leroy. When we heard the train, Stephanie slipped on her little dress but Leroy just put on his shoes. The look on the engineer's face and his double-take when he saw this naked guy standing by the tracks waving hello was priceless.

Blue Iris

Oil on archival 1/8" ampersand gessobord panel -5" x 7"

I had in mind to have some brushy fun with these pretty irises which adorn my friend Diane's garden.  Perhaps it was my love of Van Gogh coming to the fore.  His wonderful painting of irises has always been a favorite. It was one of his first works while he was at the asylum at Saint Paul-de-Mausole in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence.  Vincent felt that by continuing to paint while at the asylum he could keep himself from going insane.  Why, this sometimes has the opposite effect on me.  Sometimes continuing to paint makes me crazy.  Not from the act itself, which I love, but from the aftermath of creation.  Was it good enough? Will people like it, understand it, get it?  I suppose self doubt is part and parcel of this life I have chosen.  Oddly enough, I have a very strong sense of my own abilities.  Go figure.  As you can see, My idea of laying it on with a trowel vanished in the night and once again I broke out the blending brushes to soften the background and contrast the blossoms.  I guess I have to be true to myself.  Sometimes my hands have a will of their own.  The eye perceives but the hand executes. 

"Nude with Cigarette"

Oil on archival 1/8" ampersand gesspbord panel - 5" x 7"

 

Smoking has become such a taboo in the 21st century that only the fringes of society light up with impunity.  Indeed, such a stigma has been laid on smoking that it has taken on fetish status.  So call "draggin-ladies" populate the internet with sexy cigarettes perched on pouty lips.  Though not a cigarette smoker myself, I do like a good cigar now and then, along with a nice peaty scotch...that's my idea of decadence.

"Cujo"

Oil on Linen mounted on board - 6" x 8"

I'm not sure little guy was what Stephen King had in mind when he wrote the book.  He may be like this scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail:

TIM:

There he is!

ARTHUR:

Where?

TIM:

There!

ARTHUR:

What, behind the rabbit?

TIM:

It is the rabbit.

ARTHUR:

You silly sod!

TIM:

What?

ARTHUR:

You got us all worked up!

TIM:

Well, that's no ordinary rabbit!

ARTHUR:

Ohh.

TIM:

That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!

ROBIN:

You tit! I soiled my armour I was so scared!

TIM:

Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer!

GALAHAD:

Get stuffed!

TIM:

He'll do you up a treat, mate.

GALAHAD:

Oh, yeah?

ROBIN:

You mangy Scots git!

TIM:

I'm warning you!

ROBIN:

What's he do, nibble your bum?

TIM:

He's got huge, sharp-- eh-- he can leap about-- look at the bones!

ARTHUR:

Go on, Bors. Chop his head off!

BORS:

Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew comin' right up!

TIM:

Look!

[squeak]

BORS:

Aaaugh!

TIM:

I warned you, but did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't it? Well, it's always the same. I always tell them--

ARTHUR:

Oh, shut up!

Post note:

I have toned down the hue of this painting at the behest of it's owner.   The intense graphic natural of the original has been modified to reflect the Victorian dog portraits of the late 19th century.  I like them both - you be the judge.

"Shells"

Oil on archival 1/8" ampersand gessobord panel - 5" x 7

Another painting from the "artifact series", these shells have migrated from Apalachicola, Florida  to Birmingham, Alabama by way of Uncle Bob's suitcase. Laid out on his mahogany table to catch the afternoon sun, they offered some new challenges for me to paint. The translucent pinks of the spiny one and the cross texture of the other kept me entertained.

study for "Amphictyonis - Goddess of Wine"

Oil on archival 1/8" ampersand gessobord panel - 9" x 12"

Once again the color got washed out while posting this little study.  The painting is luscious.  

..later the next morning.

It just occurred to me that the reason the photos of my paintings look great on the MAC but look like crap on the blog may be the settings in lightroom.  I think the blog doesn't recognize ProPhoto RGB.  I will try and switch over to sRGB and see if things improve.  This is a maddening development.

This painting is meant to serve as a study for a later work. The ambiguous, neutral, slightly floral background is intentionally vague and shot with Corot-like flicks of green.  I may drop her into a forest Bacchanalia at a later date.

"Champagne cork reflections"

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

I don't know why I love playing with this red tablecloth so much.  Perhaps I was a bull fighter in a past life.  It is fun to paint and it really gives some gravitas to such a tiny panel.  Corks from two of my favorite champagnes; Schramsberg and Mumm, reflecting off of a chrome wine bucket on a red tablecloth.  So simple yet so satisfying.  

Something a bit more complex tomorrow, I promise.

"Pipers Will Power"

Oil on linen mounted on birch wood panel - 6" x 8"

Devo was playing in my head while I painted this piece - whippet, whippet good. Commissioned by his owner, the painting has more color than this reproduction indicates. That mushy orange color is actually a rich, cadmium red / rose madder, later toned down via a glaze to a rich mahogany. The warm creams, bright whites and subtle hints of pink and blue got lost in the translation. Oh well - it happens.

"Pear Brandy and snifter"

Oil on linen mounted on birch wood panel - 8" x 10"

This is the first painting in the “Artifact Series,” a collection of treasures and miscellaneous fun stuff collected by my Uncle Bob over a lifetime. I was not totally idle in Birmingham. I spent many hours composing and cataloging my Uncle's collections of shells and watches and glassware and beer steins and hats and walking sticks and figurines and books and ..., well you get the idea. The good Professor was a “stuff” guy. I, too, am a “stuff” guy, much to my wife’s consternation - she is a “tosser.” It is truly amazing just how much one can accumulate in a lifetime of collecting. A trinket here, a bobble there, something to remember that trip to Paris or Daytona or New Orleans and pretty soon full blown clutter begins to form. George Carlin put it in perspective...”Everybody else’s stuff is shit, your shit is stuff.” An artist has even more of a collecting problem, as everything he sees is material for a possible art project. I have a friend who is a serial artist dater. One of her conquests was a guy who used dryer lint as a medium for his work. Think about it - those pretty colors in the lint trap after you wash the purple towels or red flannel sheets. One of the weirder things I have is a box of cat hair collected from our three Siamese cats over the years. Much the same as dryer lint, although more monochromatic, the little daily tufts of fur range in value from almost white (from China) to medium brown (Theo) and very dark (Vincent). Someday I will get around to doing something with this sepia medium, even if it is only stuffing a pillow with it. Wine corks, champagne medallions, beer caps, wish bones and God knows what else are lurking in boxes in the basement, waiting for their chance to be transformed into great works of art. This apple (pear?) didn’t fall far from the Lehmeyer tree.

"Tag sale- Meerschaum pipes"

Oil on linen on birch wood panel - 6" x 8"

In the words of Sam Gamgee - "Well, I'm back."   

What's up?

I'm sure by now you are wondering why there has been no new work.   Uncle Bob has finally succumbed to the cancer and today went to join the morning stars. 

 As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death. - Leonardo Da Vinci

I must again head down south.  

There will be work again, i promise.

"Water lily"

Oil on Canvas mounted on board - 6" x 8"

 Tucked away in hidden courtyards all over the French Quarter are wonderful lush gardens; tiny oases of wonderful flora and fauna. These tropical gardens are a great place to escape from the Louisiana heat, slope back a Hurricane or a Sazerac or just commune with nature.  I chanced upon this lily pond while on a culinary walking tour of New Orleans.  

I'm off to Birmingham and won't post again until Wednesday night.  

"Button Mushrooms"

Oil on Museum quality, Archival 1/8" ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 6"

 "One piece makes you larger, and one piece makes you small, and the ones that mother gives you don't have any taste at all."  I'm paraphrasing Lewis Carroll (and Grace Slick) but those of us who grew up in the 50's probably never saw a fresh mushroom.  Oh, maybe we nibbled a rubbery one in the chow mien from some mediocre Chinese carryout. (remember, this is the 50’s - there won’t be a Szechaun restaurant for years).  Perhaps, just perhaps, a daring, adventurous mother might have thrown some canned ones in her spaghetti sauce, but never a fresh one.  I didn't see a mushroom, culinarily speaking, until I left home.  The late 60's were an eye opener for me in many ways.  I was a geek and a freak and an avid J.R.R. Tolkien fan.  He imbued his hobbits with a passion for mushrooms far surpassing the big folk and I had to try them.  Try them I did and I, too, grew to love them as much as Frodo and Sam. I put them in everything and on everything.  I made a dish called "Gruel" which was not a thin porridge, but a hearty-tomato based stew chock full of mushrooms that was the basis for many a party in my starving artist days at my Stafford Road studio.  I was represented by the Gallery 306 in Philadelphia in the 70's and I often drove through Kennett Square, PA to deliver paintings to them.  Kennett Square is home to the Wyeth Museum and more importantly;  the Phillips mushroom farm, also know to me by its other name - Nirvana.  They had mushrooms the size of hamburger buns which they sold by the basket for not much money.  Hitherto, I had never seen a portobello mushroom and this was a revelation. Sadly, they did not stock or cultivate psylisybin mushrooms, another fungus gaining popularity at the time...and so we come full circle - back to Wonderland. 

"The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"Photo Finish"

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

I may add some text to this entry later today.  I just finished this and am going to rack out for a while.  It feels good to be back in the game.

Comment test

I was at an art opening this past weekend and was talking to some friends about the whole internet-art experience.  A few of them remarked about this piece or that piece that they had seen on my blog.   Looking at the blog is tantamount to falling by the studio.   More than one person said that they had tried to leave a comment, but that it didn't work. 

Just to be certain that the comment button actually works:  This is a test of the comment button.  Feel free to say anything you want - "Nice weather we are having",  "How about them 'O's" etc. 

It is suppose to work like this;  You place your cursor over "0 comments"  and click.  Type some words in the box,  choose an identity (you can be anonymous if you'd like),  if there is a box to type in some jumbled code words - be sure to fill that in.  Press the "preview" if you want to see what your glorious comments will look like.  When satisfied - hit the publish your comment button.  There, wasn't that easy?

"Peace" ...for my next illusion I'll need a volunteer from...everyone.

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

Peace - what a concept.  When I was a young man the war in Vietnam was going strong. For my dad, it was the Germans and the Japanese.  Korea, Granada, (Granada?!) the Middle East...When will it all end? Why all this hatred? Why can't we all just get along?  I don't get it!

Magicians have a trick they do with a pan and a dove.  They pour lighter fluid into a pan and ignite it, then they close the lid.  When they open it -Voilà, a live dove appears.  Oh, that peace was that easily achieved.  I am not usually given to symbolism in my work, but this piece is rife with it.  The composition appears to be severed in half; two separate elements; dove and chick pan, separated by a sea of worn out red crushed velvet. You don't have to be Fellini to figure the red cloth or the dove.  I suppose I could have made it more exciting; flames shooting out of the pan, etc. but by the simple fact of isolating the dove from the trick shows how impossibly far even the illusion of peace is from reality.   

"Imagine all the people living life in peace.  You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.  I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will live as one" - John Lennon

"Candy Apples" and cold starts

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

New Orleans and this new MAC have taken their toll on me.  I did get some fun reference while I was down south which will show up in the next few days and weeks, but once again I am forced to face a cold start at the easel after a week off.  This is always a frightening thing.  What if I forgot how it all works?  I purposely picked something that would allow for some fun color and paint but was not too challenging or complex.  So here it is; a fluff piece to get me started.  

BTW   I love the MAC but it has taken some getting use to.  Things are not where they were.  

Madness

To expostulate
What artistry should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief: my noble friends, i am mad:
Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.

 

…More matter, with less art.

 

 … I swear I use no art at all.

That I am mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure;
But farewell it, for I will use no art.
Mad let us grant me, then: and now remains
That we find out the cause of this effect,

Gentle cousins, computers hath made me mad and stayed me from my course, but no more!

Tomorrow will find me in the studio.

Tech time

Today was given up to technical issues and paperwork. I am now a MAC man. After months of kicking, screaming, cajoling, pleading and control-alt-deleting my old PC, I had finally had enough. Just removing the spaghetti and miscellaneous detritus from the old PC has taken more time than I would have imagined. The good Apple people have (hopefully) transferred all my painting files over to the new machine. They tell me that a MAC is much better for an artist than a PC and that they are very intuitive. I’ll let you know. The book about how to use leopard is 458 pages long! I’ll be putting in some time loading applications onto the machine that wouldn’t directly transfer. I probably won’t get any painting done tomorrow either. Then it’s off to the Big Easy to celebrate my wife’s 50th birthday. I am going to pre-load some paintings onto http://www.dailypainters.com/ so I can get them into the gallery section. If you are new to my blog, you can look back and find them and there may be a story to go with them. For my regular lookers and lurkers; there may not be a new painting until next Tuesday, so don’t be disappointed.

"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?

"Pacific Cod" deja vu

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

I know what my regular blog readers are thinking; WTF, I’ve seen this painting before. Well yes, you have, but I did this painting before hooking up with http://www.dailypainters.com/ and this is the only way I can get it into my gallery and still have people comment on it without having them search for it. OK, I didn’t get into the studio today, but then you knew that. C'est la vie.

"Victorian Nautilus Shell"

Oil on archival, museum quality, 1/8” Ampersand Gessobord™ panel – 5" x 7"

Ah, the Nautilus! I’ve been told that I have the body of a God. Sadly the God they had in mind was Buddha. In a fit of madness, I bought a home Nautilus machine to try to change that perception. Anyone who knows me well knows I wouldn’t run out of a burning house, much less jog, so this purchase was ill-fated from the start. As you can guess, it did yeoman’s duty as a clothes hanger before I finally found it a good home with a health conscience friend. Suffice it to say, I am content to look like Balzac for the time being. My other anomaly is that although I loathe boats, I have a fascination for submarines. When I was a lad in grade school, I had a Nautilus lunch box. The Nautilus was our first nuclear attack sub, launched in 1954. It was also Captain Nemo’s ship in Jules Verne’s tale 20,000 Leagues under the Sea. I have never been on a sub under sea although I have been on the USS Torsk which arrived in Baltimore to serve as a museum and memorial in 1972. So there it is...more insight into this artist.

"Sleeping Nude"

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

It’s been a while since I played with a little nude. {;-)> I miss my old palette knife more than ever. Painting flesh requires lots of color mixing. If anyone out there has an old Japanese Loew-Cornell 41F palette knife they’d be willing to part with, let me know.

Painting the figure on such a small scale is challenging to say the least. I tried not to get fussy with this piece; oops, too late. I have more respect than I already had for Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, Vermeer and Jean Leon Gerome this morning. Miniature painters are a mad bunch.

"Oyster, Shell and Lemon"

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

These beauties were shucked at the Acme Oyster House in New Orleans. The lovely marble bar works well with the alabaster shell and soft flesh of the oyster. I took a few liberties refecting the hints of blue in the bar.

Back in February, twenty-six–year-old violin virtuoso David Garrett fell down a flight of stairs and landed on his violin case, which held a priceless Stradivarius. The violinist wasn’t badly hurt, but his instrument was not so lucky; upon opening the case, he found the violin in pieces. I had a similar experience recently. Well, perhaps not quite as devastating as crushing a priceless Stradivarius but just as debilitating to this artist; my palette knife finally gave up the ghost and broke from metal fatigue after 40 years of faithful service. Much has changed since I bought that first knife. As my painting brethren can tell you, mixing paint is crucial to a successful work of art. The feel and spring of a good palette knife becomes second nature. My dear old knife was Japanese. Its fine blade had the perfect shape, thinness and spring for the job. Although I did manage to find a close approximation of the shape, the new blade is Italian and is thicker than its predecessor. The spring is all wrong. I may have to try and find an old one on eBay.

In the words of Joni Mitchell -

“Don’t it always seem to go

That you don’t know what you’ve got

Till it's gone”

"Leo"

Oil on oil primed linen panel - 6"x 8"

I am back from Birmingham for a while. Being away from the easel for a week is scary. I have always suffered from cold starts; that feeling that you have somehow forgotten how to paint. My friend Stephanie has a beautiful Maine Coon named Leo. He was the perfect subject to get me back in the saddle.

Brief hiatus

Sadly, I must take a break from painting and posting. I am headed to Birmingham to help with my dear Uncle Bob's convalescence. Back in a week (maybe) I'll leave you with this painting I did of him back in 76; the finished portrait of the English Horn Player.

Oil on canvas - 1976 - 30" x 40"

"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!"

"Handcuffs and Chaps"

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

I was challenged recently to create something more dark and intriguing than my normal still life subjects of oysters and alcohol. I thought these iconic bracelets might fit the bill. This fashion jewelry may soon the new bling of New York Governors and Cy Young award winning Major league pitchers. At over $1000 an hour, it is possible that Mr. Spitzer has had some experience with these already, if you catch my drift, nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Since I ride a Harley, black leather is my everyday wear, so I am very familiar with that texture, and handcuffs are chrome, so they were no real stretch either. The cuffs are resting on my riding chaps. I like the reflected blues and the slightly chipped chrome of the cuffs hints at the warm metal underneath. I wasn’t sure about the marriage of brass buckle and chrome cuffs, but the interplay of warm and cold seems to work.I don’t know why but my mind wandered back to Burl Ives singing “Silver and Gold” from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. He seemed to be telling me it was OK to put them together. My brain is like my basement – full of boxes of weird lost stuff. It is fun to occasionally open a box and be sent back in time. My wife doesn’t buy this "time travel" theory and threatens a to get a Roll-off dumpster whenever I leave on a bike trip. I always look for the tracks on the lawn when I return home.

"Loaves and Fishes - part 2"

Oil on archival, museum quality, ampersand 1/8” gessobord™ panel – 6’ x 6”

I loved these baguettes piled up like cord wood at the farmers market in Paris. The smell of fresh baked bread was intoxicating. It must be the coming of spring and Easter that made me think of pairing these paintings. I’m certain Saint Mark didn’t have this in mind as an illustration for his story of Jesus feeding thousands of his followers on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Did they have baguettes back then? If you wish to refresh your memory on the story; today’s lesson begins in Mark 6:30-44. (Isn't the internet a wonderful thing?)

This is how I envisioned them hanging together:

But I am selling them separately, for secular reasons.
(I could use the dough...I need a few fins...bread is always good)

Thus ends the lesson for today.

"Loaves and fishes - part 1"

Oil on archival, museum quality, ampersand 1/8” gessobord™ panel – 6’ x 6”

Don’t look too closely at this painting as it isn’t quite finished. I didn’t want another day to go by without posting something new. This piece is part of a diptych called “Loaves and fishes”. Could it be that my religious upbringing is coming to the fore? Perhaps, I was an acolyte for four years, in my youth. Look for the second part tomorrow.

Sails, sales, soldes

Click here to bid on this painting

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)

"Drink Naked"

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

I seem to be bouncing back and forth between reflective chrome and fuzzy puppies. What can I say? I love painting diverse textures and want to keep it fresh. Next up – cold and slimy; by that I mean fish or oysters.

We went to visit the Naked Mountain Vineyards and Winery in Markham, Virginia last year. They make extremely good wine and we bought a case of their excellent Chardonnay. I might have gotten a case even if the wine was just so-so because of the corks. When you open the wine, the cork reads “Drink Naked”. That appeals to my decadent sensibilities. Indeed, I picked up a tee shirt at the winery with that slogan on it. I get a lot of smiles from people when I am wearing this shirt. Once, Forgetting I had it on, I went to take some mail to a friend in rehab. I got some real dirty looks from the counselors…oops, my bad?

These tools of the trade were fun to paint.

"Study for the English Horn Player - 1975"

Oil on panel - 1975 - 9" x 12"

I did this study of Uncle Bob when I was 23 years old. Back in my early days of portraiture I used a grisaille under-painting and glazed the color overtop via Maroger’s medium. Thus I could concentrate on each element of the design; form and color separately. The result of this was that your eye penetrated through the transparent glazes at different rates of speed and created a three dimensional effect. I used this technique all through the 70’s

"Walter, the Drunken Dachshund"

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

Last week I painted a Great Dane named Mr. Big. This is his adopted brother Walter. As with most Dachshunds I’ve met, Walter is a most inquisitive hound. Sweet, good natured, curious to a fault and always hungry, he tends to get into trouble. A case in point: I was invited to a dinner party to celebrate my birthday by Mr. Big and Walter’s owners. My friend is a first rate photographer and we ventured upstairs to view his latest work. We men took our beers with us and the girls left behind two half full chocolate martinis on the table. We were gone perhaps 20 minutes and returned to find a very drunk dachshund. He had managed to climb up onto the table and had drunk every last drop of both martinis. Though there was not enough chocolate in the drinks to worry about, he had consumed enough alcohol to be staggering around. We called the 24-hour clinic and were told he’d just have to sleep it off, as the alcohol was already absorbed. We, too, had absorbed a lot of alcohol so it seemed only fitting to dress him up for St. Patrick’s Day. I guess you had to be there. You will be happy to know that other than a bad hangover the next day, he is fine. Do I think he learned his lesson about not getting into things? Not a chance.

la nudité femelle avec la cigarette, le chapeau de fourrure et le léopard pèle des chaussures

Oil on panel - 8" x 14"

How's that for a title? I did this piece a while ago as a study for a larger painting in a series of long postponed fetish works. I may be revisiting the concept. I'm off to Alabama (no banjo on my knee) in the morning to see my dear Uncle Bob in hospital. New work on Monday... Promise.

"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!

"Mr Big"

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

Painting a brindle Great Dane was a new experience for me. The brindle coat presented quite a challenge. There are very dark hairs and very light hairs playing off each other. If you lay down the blacks and then feather in the pale Naples yellow, they want to blend together. It takes a soft touch to get the effect. Mr. Big is one gorgeous Dane. His coat is almost tiger striped with rich umbers and deep blacks shot with pale yellow highlights and they don’t come any sweeter. He shares his digs in Baltimore with Walter the wonder wiener. They make quite a pair. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Danes. One of my very first commissions was a painting of a harlequin Great Dane, way back in the early seventies. My cats were not happy with his modeling sessions at the studio. That early commission was almost life size. Is it me, or is it perverse to paint a Great Dane on a 6 inch square panel?