Thursday, February 11, 2010

Snowstorm!

Snowstorm!
Oil and snow on canvas, 12x12

Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me
if you are interested in buying this painting
I thought there would be enough shelter in our grove of trees to let me paint in Wednesday's blizzard (it was a blizzard here along the coast, if not in inland Connecticut).

So I packed a small plein-air bag, dressed very warmly and headed out. Almost as soon as I set up, I saw it was a losing battle. The snow fell into my paint and froze there, giving it a sandlike consistency. The snow fell onto the canvas and stayed there, adding to the bumpy texture. The wind blew, snow froze to my eyebrows, and in an instant, I was soaked.

And so I painted like a fiend! Like a demon! I painted like the wind!

At any rate, I have used this painting as a sketch for a larger piece, but it is a cool painting in and of itself, I think, so I thought I'd post it.

Morning Fog

Morning Fog
Oil on canvas, 30x36,

Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me
if you are interested in buying this painting
The Groton reservoir stretches from near our house to Poquonnock Bridge. It's easy to see, but hard to paint, as there are few places to stop and set up. I've gotten good at stopping illegally and taking photos quickly. This painting is one that I made from a few photos I took through a fence topped with razor wire. They really don't want you anywhere near the reservoir.

While the reservoir is beautiful in the winter, I find myself longing for spring. The seed catalogs have started to arrive, and if you look hard, you can see that the tips of the branches of trees and bushes have started to redden. Yesterday, in the snow, Peter and I saw bluebirds, and my heart flew a little with them.

Thanks for reading!

Scenes from an Opening


Here's Chris Rose, curator of the Lighthouse Gallery, in front of a wall of dogs. 
Here's a couple of the dangerous-looking types that haunt the Lighthouse Gallery... I'm married to the one with the beard... the other is Carden Holland, my partner in crime in "Places & Pets." 


Here's Chris again, in front of the Sams. 
"Rocky," "Giles, Goat Boy" and "How Now?"
These twin teenagers came with their dad; they spent a long time with my paintings, and it was great to watch them. Here, one of the twins is clearly suspicious of the lurker. 
A wall of dogs and cows.

The Lighthouse Gallery at night. It's a gallery in a strip mall on Long Hill Road in Groton, Conn., and to me, its everyday location is a real plus. It's a friendly place that invites everyone.




The opening reception at the Lighthouse Gallery was jammed; I stopped taking photos when the place got crowded - and I still didn't get to spend as much time as I'd have liked with some of the people who came so far out of their way to attend the opening.

I am feeling a little low, this snowy morning. I find this is something that happens after openings. I stretch myself to the edges of exhaustion, always pushing right up to the very last minute - and then it's over. I'm tired, I feel painted out, my direction at least momentarily unclear. None of my pieces sold, either, and while I expected that, it adds to the malaise, as does a rejection from the Connecticut Artists Show.

So went out yesterday, in the midst of a driving snowstorm, and attempted a plein air painting - but it was just too brutal, and the snow fell so fast, I couldn't keep the canvas clear. I came in and dried off, warmed up, and cooked, which in my opinion is one of the best ways in the world to spend a snowy afternoon.

Today, the world looks good again, and I can hardly wait to get out there and paint.

Monday, February 8, 2010

One Sam, Two Sam

Good Sam II
Oil on canvas, 30x30, $800; you can buy Good Sam I and II for $1,200
Good Sam I
Oil on canvas, 30x30, $800; $1,200 for Good Sam I and Good Sam II together


Good Sam paintings
Late Thursday afternoon, I dropped by the Lighthouse Gallery to give a final look at "Places & Pets," and see if curator Chris Rose had any questions or problems.

The show looked great - but there was an open place on the wall above Chris's desk area, right next to Good Sam I.


Did I have another painting? Well, not a big one that I was willing to sell.

So Chris gave me a challenge. Days earlier, he and I had been talking about the power and delight of painting fast, and he turned to me and asked if I could make another painting.

I took him up on it.

All along, I'd envisioned the Sam paintings as a pair. I mean, everybody needs a pair of giant oil paintings of a Samoyed, right?

So, on Friday morning, after a nearly sleepless Thursday night, I went out to the studio painted Good Sam II.

The pieces look great together! They are just about the happiest paintings I've ever made. And they were a wonderful omen for the opening.

It was a festive show, a true celebration, filled with family and friends - and strangers! There were children, teens, a dog, friends from my childhood and from this new life.

Carden Holland, the marvelous artist who was the "Places" part of the show, had not shown in years and years. Practically her whole family came to the opening, which made it even more special. We have many friends in common, and many of them came to support and celebrate us.
I'd like to say it was a high-selling opening, but it wasn't; still, it was wonderful, and I had the chance, again and again, to watch as people saw, and connected, and engaged with my paintings. And that's a huge, huge thrill!

If you came to the opening, thank you. If you couldn't make it, don't worry. The show will be up until the end of the month. Click here for directions and hours.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Labradoodle II

Labradoodle II
Oil on canvas, 12x12, commission

After I finished the first labradoodle painting, I had an idea for another one.

This happens to me sometimes. Midway through one approach, I am struck with the notion of an entirely different approach. It's fine, good even - though I do wish sometimes that I could get to the second idea without going entirely through the first one.

This labradoodle, I made using a technique that I am finding I really love. I take the palette knife, load it with paint and medium (and I have to say, the transparent colors work best here), and I push the paint, hard, into the canvas, scrubbing and jamming and really smashing the paint in. Then, I overlap it with the next palette-knife full, doing the same thing. I do this again and again, and finally, at the end, go over it, in places, lightly, with a sort of frosting of paint - if the subject calls for it.

At any rate, it's a fun thing to try, and gives a cool, glowing effect. I think you can see it if you click on this painting, and make it big.

Thanks for reading! And don't forget the opening of the "Places & Pets" show, Friday, 5-7 (or 8) at the Lighthouse Gallery, 744 Long Hill Road, Groton. The show will be up all month, but come to the opening if you can!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

At Central Bark

At Central Bark
Oil on canvas, 18x36

Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me
if you are interested in buying this painting
Well, the all-animal show has taken its initial form! Carden Holland and I delivered our work today to Chris Rose, maestro of the Lighthouse Gallery (744  Long Hill Road, Groton, Conn; click here for directions), and he arranged, and hung, and took down, and arranged and hung again - and out of the chaos, "Places & Pets" began to take shape.

Carden's work and mine could not be more different - and that's great. Her pieces - landscapes, still lifes, drawings and ceramics - are careful, quiet, subtle, elegant. Beautiful. My pieces - all animals - are loud, bright, fast, inelegant.

So our stuff really works well together.

I admit, I was very nervous about this. For starters, "real" artists don't do paintings of pets - or that's the prejudice, at any rate. Like "real" writers don't write detective novels. Second, Carden is a trained, practiced artist with a lifetime of experience and practice. I wondered whether my work would look amateurish and juvenile next to hers.

And you know what? All of the above could be true, but it really doesn't matter. The show is fun, and sprawling, and exuberant - and it has a rhythm, and a shape and a voice.

An extra, added, wonderful bit about today is that one of my paintings, "Rocky," appeared with a blurb about the show on the front page of The Day, the local newspaper. I think I have Jill Blanchette to thank for this - or maybe just the gods of journalism. 

Now about this painting... I almost called it "Playing with Myself," but, well... I took two photos of a bearded collie, playing at the local dog park, and cobbled them together into this painting. So it looks like two dogs, but actually, it's the same dog. Fun, huh?

Come to the reception of "Places & Pets"! It's Friday, from 5-7 (or 8), and it will be fun.

And thank you for reading.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Eunice

Hunter
Oil on canvas, 24x48, $250
This is the second time I've made this painting. The first time, I'd only just started painting. I had this photograph of Eunice, moments before she leaped from the tree to murder a mouse or a vole or some other innocent creature, and it's really a cool photo. Eunice is entirely focused on her prey, and is gripping the tree with claws, muscles and her giant feet, but you can tell that she's not thinking about the tree, or her position or anything other than the moment of pouncing.

I'd priced the original painting at what I thought was a prohibitive sum. Thought I could show it without worrying that it would sell - and if it did, it would sell at a high enough price that I'd be happy to trade the painting for the money.

I am. I think.

There was something about that first painting that this painting doesn't have. But to be honest, there's a lot about this painting that that first one didn't have. It was fun - and challenging - to repaint it, especially to reinterpret it, but still capture that feeling of hunting.