Thursday, April 9, 2020

Hunkering Down

My last post ended with a message of hope. Of course, since I believe that hope could not exist without desparation or fear, I may have focused a bit more on images that visually were devoid of hope altogether.

As a result, and in accordance with the promotion of working at home as a way of life, I wish to inspire people with some paintings I have now had the time to finish.

The message, of course, is for people to use this time to explore some of the things that make us human. If you're artistic, grab a brush and make something. If you're a musician, write a song. If you don't know what to do, read a book. If you want to pass the time, look at a tree, or the sky.

In other words, look for hope.


Here's what Long Island beaches and parks should look like all the time!




Thursday, April 2, 2020

Desparation

 The world is facing a crisis. What can "average" citizens do? We're scared. We're angry. We are overwhelmed.

So how can we survive? The reality is, many of us won't. That is a devastating acknowledgement of the terror we are facing. But we are individuals and we all have an inherent need to persevere.

Personally, I'm petrified. I'm in my 50's. I'm a type 1 diabetic. I'm at the top tier of high-risk individuals.

But I'm also an artist. Artists believe in a greater good. They strive to illustrate abstract thoughts and emotions. They need to.

An artist's work is very much a diary of their life and a record of their observations. I thought of this during this current crisis. I've had some time at home so I went through some older work I had done. A few of them seemed appropriate to the current situation we're in.

For a long time I made art based on suffering. My mother spent many years in and out of hospitals, and it was so confusing that such a beautiful, caring, and gentle woman suffered so much. I'm sure she was on my mind when I did this picture.

I found another one and I can't recall what I was thinking, but with the current focus on hands it seemed like it had some reverence.


The last one was in the same pile of old drawings and it struck me as a divine message. I had done a close up of Christ's crucifixion to show the agony of that occurrence. Now I am no poster boy for religion, but I do believe in God and I think that having faith is about the only thing people can turn to during this crisis. So I pray for my children, the people I know and love, and I pray for the human race. Most of all, I pray for salvation.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Trying to Get Back

It's been a while, for many reasons, since my last post. Since then I published a book of my landscape paintings, "Painting the Other Long Island". That process took a bit more time than I anticipated, but I was pleased with the results. I may have mentioned in previous posts how much I think about making art throughout the daily routines of life. Whether or not that gets me through the day or makes me ignorant towards managing daily routines I can't say, but I cannot deny the sense of accomplishment and purpose I feel after making a picture that I feel is successful.

This painting was done at West End Beach. It was not only a peaceful experience but I felt good about the results. I don't get that feeling from any other activity.


West End (acrylic on paper) -2016

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Return to Abstraction

It was inevitable that after doing landscapes for some time that the abstract patterns in nature would inspire me to do more non-representational work. To me, no artist who works from nature can avoid drawing or painting quickly as the light outdoors changes. Usually, when you paint quickly the more abstract the image is. That just seems to be the nature of how art is created. Look at preliminary sketches by Andrew Wyeth to get an idea.

It takes a bit of restraint to put paint down quickly and leave it. You have to really look at it and decide what to do next. Do you add something? Where? How much? The more you think the more of a struggle it is. For me anyway.

This is a very small painting where I applied paint very quickly to fill up the blank area. It then stayed on my wall for months as I analyzed it and added little touches here and there. It is somewhat representational but I think it works abstractly as well

 

Incoming (acrylic on paper) 3x6"



Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Art in Tribute

Art can express feelings and emotions in ways that words never can. Recently, my brother passed away. It was a devastating loss to everyone in my family, and I tried hard to write something to honor him. I have done this in the past and it had came easily. This time, it was very difficult. For some reason I had a hard time writing something about him, despite being filled with strong feelings about his life and the times we spent together. Fortunately, another one of my brothers wrote a fitting eulogy to him, and his daughter compiled a moving tribute that touched on all aspects of his personality. As a result, all I could do was something visual in memory of my dear brother. In keeping with his nature, I recycled a painting that I had and offered it to the hospice facility where he passed away. They were very pleased with my donation, and I was glad to do something in my brother's honor that, with any luck, will give some calm to anyone passing through the facility, since all who do definitely need it. In looking at the picture, I was curious as to why I modified the painting the way I did. Initially, I felt it a little impersonal to simply give a painting that had no real connection to him, so I repainted some areas during a late night painting session to maybe give it some of what I was feeling. I think gave the picture a little more punch, possibly out of sadness and frustration. Who knows? But I think the revised picture is a little better since the water seems to be pushing into land a little more aggressively. Maybe that's symbolic. In the end, I hope he can appreciate the gesture.

Marsh (revised)

Marsh (original)

Monday, June 8, 2015

Painting Therapy


One thing I've noticed as I get older is the profound impact on my life making art has been. While I continue to struggle to have my work known, as many artist do, I cannot help but value how making art has kept me from sinking into the deep well of woe that other parts of my life would otherwise push me into. As the problems in my life and family grow and I find myself on the brink of despair, I thank God that I am able to create art. This keeps me grounded. Not quite focused, but determined to never give up. I have often thought this was a form of escapism, and it very well may be, but it is an escapism that results in creativity. For example, the following pieces have been created during the times when, in order of appearance, (a) my domestic life was in a shambles, (b) my financial status in jeopardy, and (c) my family members suffering from illness and depression. What does all this mean? It means that I still have those problems!!!! Actually, It really means that anyone who is going through hard times should pick up a brush, pencil, pen, or musical instrument before they pick up anything else. Maybe someone will happen onto this blog and do just that!


(a) sunset on Webb Lake (done after a prolonged period of domestic disputes)



(b) Caumsett (going through money troubles and inability to manage finances)

(c) Cross (my family members suffering from illness and depression)


So much for not wanting to post personal information! 

However, I feel it is important to show that certain obstacles can be channeled into creativity. Making art is a fantastic remedy. Right up there with laughter!


Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Finally Finished

This is an image I started in August of 2014, and finally finished it a week ago. Of course, I still would like to revise it but my youngest son thought it was good so I took that as a sign not to. One of us is right. I have it for sale on Zatista so only time will tell. That is, based on the belief that a sale equals a picture of quality. This is an ongoing debate. At any rate, for me I am pleased with the composition so I hope that comes across. The painting is of Lake Webb in Maine and there was a storm brewing right around sunset. Since everything was moving rapidly, there were hundreds of possible composition choices that could have been made. This is the frustrating yet exciting thing about on site painting. There is nothing like it.

 

"Storm over Lake Webb" (oil on canvas)