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.

Something a Little Different

Somewhere on the Floor, 2007. pastel on paper, 20 x 16

Here is something that is new for me. I recently invested in several sets of pastels. I've wanted to do some pastels for quite some time but I have not been able to swing it until now. The last time I did any was when I was in graduate school and I loved them then, so I could hardly wait to use them again. Its such a great media, I love its immediacy. I'll post more as I get more done. This painting was done for a Yosemite show at the Vault in November.

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.

More Work - Less Talk

Summer Afternoon, 2007. oil on panel, 10 x 12


I have another confession to make. I really don't like to write that much. Now I know that may seem strange since I do have a blog. So let me explain. I'm not a very talented writer (please try and keep the laughing to yourself). It's just a struggle every time I try and write. I have to work and work to get anything to make any sense. Yet, I do enjoy the process of writing, getting the words down, thinking my thoughts through and trying to get them to make sense somewhere besides in my own head (which is not as easy as it sounds). But, lately I have not had the time to do any writing I've had too much on my plate and frankly writing is a ways down on my to do list. So that got me to thinking-I started this journal to show my work and maybe write a little about it. It became quite quickly to be more about the writing than the art (at least for me) and as I have previously stated I'm not a good enough of a writer to do that on semi-regular basis. I am after all an artist and not a writer. So while I may do some longer bits of writing from time to time, I'm mostly going to show you what I've been up to in my studio. Let's get started....

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.