If it ain't broke, change everything

Winter Color, 2008. oil on panel 8 x 10

There are times when I realize that I'm in a rut. It's time to mix it up and change things. I start a piece that I don't really know how to make it work. I explore. I make mistakes. I mumble to myself about how bad a painter I am. I get mad at the canvas. But sometimes my experiments work. And my painting change and, I believe, improve. So you get Winter Color which is different than anything I've done before. I'm excited to see where it will lead.

Not just a pretty picture

Every Afternoon, 2007. oil on panel 7 x 8

Here is another of my paintings from my Afternoon Sky series. In the summer the clouds build up on hot days in the afternoons and then the upper winds flatten the tops of the clouds off. It happens nearly everyday. I enjoy the luxury of seeing the same type of things on a repeated basis. It gives me deeper understanding of the landscape and the environment I live in. It is more than just a snapshot of a place, rather it is something that I hope is more truly and deeply felt.

Like a Mad Man

That's about It, 2008. oil on panel, 6 x 7

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I've been painting a lot these first few weeks of this year. I'm mostly doing smaller paintings which is nice because I can quickly just get a batch of new ideas down on the panel and out of my head. Probably some will work their way into larger paintings. At the same time these are not studies, per say. Its just easier to try new things on a smaller scale first to see if my new ideas work in paint. If any larger works come from these, they won't really resemble these painting at all, except in some of the color combination that will be used. Some of my most recent (stuff from this past week, I'll post them when they are dry) are quite surprising, I don't know to make of them yet. So, I'll have to wait and see what they look like next week when I get back to my studio.

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I can hardly wait.

Turlock Centennial Exhibtion

Canal Reflections, 2005. oil on canvas, 30 x 40

Study-The old Home Ranch, 2007. oil on panel, 20 x 22

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These two paintings are included in an exhibition celebrating the one hundred year anniversary for the city of Turlock. The show is titled Turlock: Past & Present. My work obviously fits the present part of the show. I was asked to submit work that featured canals because of the importance that they have played in the development of our region. So, these two works fit the bill perfectly. The first piece is inspired by the large canals east of town, no particular place, just memories from when I used to ride the canals on my bike. The second painting is the study for the last large commission I did for 2007 (I'll post the commission soon). It features an actual piece of ground southeast of Turlock and has what is called the high-line canal that runs next the collector's property.

This is my big plan

Peoria Flat Meadow, 2006. oil on panel, 12 x 16. NFS

I hate big pronouncements. It just seems that when someone makes one they rarely come true. Therefore I have made a habit of not making them. And yet I'm going to tell you about a big idea I had a couple of days ago.

OK, here it goes...

I think it might be time to go outside and paint again.

I know what you are thinking, "Is this the same guy who just mere months ago lambasted painting outside"? On the contrary, I was only commenting the current state of outdoor painting. I still won't even say the popular word associated this movement and what it has become in our little sub-culture of the art world.

But I digress...

Which brings me back to wanting to paint more outside. Now let me be upfront here. I will always be a studio painter, and I can't image that ever changing that focus, but I think that going back out could serve me well in my quest to become a better painter. Mixing things up is good. The works will not be an ends to itself and will be only used as a tool for my studio work since they will not be offered for sale (unless I'm participating in a gallery sponsored paint out.) I hope they can be used as an agent of change in my work and in ways that I can't anticipate.

I can hardly wait to get back outside! (Did I really just say that?) I've never been one to plan where my work is going next. Rather I sort of just follow my brush and see where it takes me. I guess I still going to be doing that, just outside. So that's my my big plan.

Onward and outward.

that's a lot a trees

The Home Place, 2007. oil on canvas, 60 x 60. sold.

This a large commission I did for a couple here in California. While this painting obviously fits within the kind work I do of the valley, it is unusual in several ways. First, I have not attempted to do this many orchards in years. I'll tell you why and I'll be blunt: it is stinking hard to try and get EVERY TREE in the right place so they both line up and lay flat and this painting has over 700 trees! I must have painted the large orchard in the foreground six or seven times before I got it right. Second, this is a specific piece of land the family owns. While most of my work is about particular places I often change things around to make the painting work so it may not in the end resemble the original place. But in this work it was important that work looked like the home place. That meant looking at the land over and over again (remember I rarely ever use photographs in my work), so I was driving out to their place numerous times to see the land and try and get the "look" and feel of their land. I would have not attempted this painting in years past because I wouldn't have felt I could pull it off. While the painting was a struggle at times to complete I was happy with the results and more importantly the couple was very pleased with the finished work. All's well that ends well.

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Soon after I finished this painting another family member inquired if I would be willing to do another larger painting of this property but from fifty years ago. But that's for another post.

The Other Three

Warm Twilight, 2007. oil on panel, 16 x 16

Warm Twilight and Orchard Ranch were the first two paintings that I brought to The Vault. They were not a orginally painted with any thought that they would go together, they just happened to to be the same size and I didn't really think anything about it at the time. But shortly after talking them to the gallery, I get a call from the owner asking if I was planning to do any more paintings that size. A collector was interested in four paintings in the same format and liked the first two that were already at the gallery. I had no immediate plans to make any

The Orchard Ranch, 2007. oil on panel, 16 x 16

other paintings that were going to the same size, but I did have two other panels o fthat size that were laying around the studio, so I started thinking about what I could do with last two...It was strange the first two were not suppose to go together and now I was making two more to go with the other two. It was Kris at The Vault who sort of suggested that I make the four seasons out of the four panels...so I just when with it. Cold Weather came first and then Around from the last post was the last to be finished. I think the four pieces work

Cold Weather, 2007. oil on panel, 16 x 16

together, even if they were not originally meant to work together.

Recent Work

Around, 2007. oil on panel, 16 x 16

This is a painting that was the last in a series of four paintings that I did for The Vault. I am quite pleased with the sky since it was one that has been bumping around in my head for some time and could never make it work in my previous attempts. I couldn't figure out what color the blue had to be to make the yellowish/orangeish color work. It turned out that the blue wasn't really a true blue at all, but more of a green blue. Once that color relationship was established it then made putting the rest of the painting together much easier and it fell into place rapidly. It only took me four or five false starts to get to this painting, which is fairly typical for me when I am trying something new. That process goes like this: I see a color relationship outside and I think to myself, "Hmmm, that could make an interesting painting...I wonder what color I will have to use in order make a painting feel like this?" I go back to my studio and give it a go. At times I hit it right off the bat (but I can count those experiences on two hands)-others, like with this painting, I struggle to find the right colors that will work with what I have in mind. It's a funny process and not predicable at all.

Do you really need all those tubes?

The Finale, 2007. oil on canvas 44 x 46. sold.

I have confession to make...I love oil paint. That may not seem strange, since I am oil painter. I love the smell, the buttery texture of the paint. I love lying out my colors on my pallette fresh and new. I buy the most expenive paint I can afford. I can spend money on color like nobody's business. I don't bother with the little studio size tubes either, what's the point? If I can't get in at least 150 ml tubes I stop looking at what colors that paint company has to offer. Each color on my palette is there for a reason. For example, one of the reasons I like to use Zinc white because of its weight. I use five different blues on my palette, because each has its own distinct characteristics. I have my favorite brands of Cadmium Lemon Yellow. etc, etc But sometimes I can become a bit obsessive. I CANNOT run out of any color, if I'm running a little low I MUST order new paint. This is especially very true of white I must have at least three or four tubes on hand at all times, if I don't, then it's straight down to the art supply store to stock up.



Sometimes I feel like a collector of artists color, much like a collector of fine wines, and so in my paint drawers at my studio I have some classic vintages. Colors that are not made any more or colors that the paint manufacturer have changed the formulation of how they make a color. (A crime in and of itself and a possible subject for a future note.) What is an artist to do? Keep the old color, of course...wait a sec... aren't I suppose to USE the paint? But, how can I be expected to use something that I can't get anymore? soooo, I save them...I must have, I don't even what to count in my head how many mostly used up tubes of paint I have lying around my studio. I can't use them and I can't throw them away, its quite a catch 22. I must have some paint that is more than fifteen years old in my studio that I just can't bear to part with it...I'm sick...really sick.

Sometimes They Work

A Little After Dusk, 2007. oil on panel, 8 x 10

Painting can be very difficult at times. I toss around thirty percent of my work, they just don't work, for any number of reasons. Mostly, I've made some bad decisions. Sure, any painting can be fixed but is it really worth the time it would take to fix them?

I walk into my studio and I don't have any fixed idealized vision of what any painting should look like, so everything changes from day to day. I usually have some sort of an idea that I have seen, say, from the day before, a sunset or sunrise from my backyard or some fields on a drive from last week, it all melds together in my mind and then I start thinking I may have an idea that would work in a painting or drawing. So I have to try these ideas out to see if they will work in paint. These ideas may work or they may not, I never know until I try them, painting and drawing is experiential, you can think about all you want but until you try it you can't know. Sometimes I hit it and sometimes I don't. I never can predict the outcome. Sure, I've learned that certain colors work well together, but what if I'm trying a new color combination? The answer will be found on the canvas or panel not in my head. It may not seem like the best way to paint, but when you paint this way your good painting can be better than if I was always striving for only one kind of painting. How do you get better? I know of only one way, you gotta make a lot of mistakes.

More Tales From the Outdoors

Broken Lines, 2004. oil on canvas, 14 x 20

Okay, we have manged in the morning to damage Jack's car fairly badly. How much worse can the afternoon be? We get back to Jack's place to get my car (mind you my car is a 1984 rabbit convertible and not really a picture of reliability, but what choice do we have?) We head back out to the great outdoors, back to the scene of the crime, well not back to the exact scene, if we ever see that creek again it will be too soon, but back to the same piece of property we were on in the morning. That view was splendid and so we headed up to the top of the knoll to start our paintings. We hadn't but started, when it was time for a meeting back in town with the gallery that was sponsoring the paint-out. We were in the middle of nowhere and knew nobody would mess with our stuff. So instead of packing everything back up we just left everything set up in the middle of this huge field and headed back into town for our meeting.

Ninety Minutes later....

We unlock the gate and drive up to the top of the hill where we left our stuff. There we find a herd of cattle surrounding our easels and painting gear. Jack's stuff looks to be fine, but my stuff...well, its taken a bit of a beating. My field easels is upside down with its three legs sticking straight up into the air and my paint bag is turned upside down with tubes of paint strewn all around and my painting was laying face down in the knee high grass. The cows were just standing around looking at us as if to say, what are you guys doing in our field? Apparently cows are very curious animals, and they just wanted to see want we were doing. What is not commonly known is apparently some cows are art critics as well. (Note: they did not mess with Jack's stuff.) We shooed them off to see what the damage was done to my stuff and surprisingly it was nothing! The cows has amazingly not broken anything, the easel was fine and the painting just needed some minor repainting where the grass had messed up the paint. A couple of hours later I finished the painting.

I've painted outside hundreds of times, but none were as exciting(?) as that day.

May I just go back to my studio where it's safe?