Tag: painting

It’s a new, light filled year.

February 1, 2026

This last year has been a bit complicated both in my personal life and in the world, to be sure. By its very nature, our lives have a tendency to protect us by prioritizing our choices. The choices being made on my behalf certainly impacted my painting production, among other things. I might even say last year was my least productive year all around.

But it is now 2026, and I realize that we can’t always see the bigger picture but only the mess immediately in front of us. This time of pausing my plans, learning workarounds for activities, and the overarching lesson of patience was actually pretty important for me. The challenges are not gone but my response is shifting. I am finding that there is a calmness now that is rising out of my core and instead of wasting time and energy pouting, I have been evolving.

This is going to be an awesome year. I say that not with false bravado but with a certainty that has become louder inside. I cannot forecast the how, the why, or the when. No one can. However, there’s no denying the build-up of positive pressure that anticipates all that is about to unfold.

I’m quietly discarding old grudges; forgiving myself for mistakes I’ve made or achievements that I didn’t pursue (basically ditching the “what-if thinking”); and coming to a calmer acceptance of who and what I am now. I am beginning to embrace my uniqueness with some grace and peace.

In a few short weeks I will be in Oshkosh, Wisconsin with some of my older, historical genre works repriced to move. My work is evolving as well. This summer I have a one woman show that I have begun to prepare for even now. It will reflect an entire new body of work, although those that know me well will see reference to a transitional element.

This is the first of February and they say there is a correlation between that date and the full moon in Leo as it relates to light. I have always had a special relationship with light in my paintings. My new works are going to step even deeper into that analysis and attempt to capture light in every aspect of our surroundings.

The painting that I’m sharing today is the first foray into that thinking with a playful juxtaposition between the lowly vegetable and the sublime light.

Have a smile on me.

Mindfulness: an imperative  process.

November 9, 2025

So, I realized after my last post that I am  moving forward again. I had told myself that part of the reason I’ve been grumpy is I couldn’t paint. I also realized that my art has come to a grinding halt this year, as have most of my creative outlets. That just can’t sustain.

Somehow I had allowed my mind to dictate false narratives because I yoked my art and my eyes to my self worth. I had fallen out of rhythm. The part that really surprised me was that I was clearly resisting change, again. After I drew that little sketch of the horse a couple of days ago and talked about it here, I had that ta-da moment that springs out of self conversation or mindfulness. Several friends also reminded me that they still want to see what I’m up to, even if it’s just a sketch.

I have been thinking about what I call mis-assigned importance for quite some time, because I process everything slowly. Not all work that I do is wonderful, nor does it need to be. That little sketch made me realize I’m in the next phase of my growth. We are each, after all, an evolving and learning, spiritual being.

I cannot deny who I’ve been my whole life. I am eccentric, habitual, passionate, self critical and obsessed with attention to detail in everything. My first real job out of high school was illustrating  manufacturers’ products for their catalogs, and it  translated quickly into a 20 year run as a pre-cad industrial illustrator. I worked for a little desktop publisher but also spent a lot of time drawing nuts, bolts, screws and subcontracting whatever the big name graphic artists didn’t have time for. It was pure visual processing –  specific, black and white drawing, and I loved it until CAD programming came along. At that point I wandered off to get a degree in fine art … and discovered color.

As I began to paint, even my oil paintings were more ultra realism than they were impressionistic. The last growth spurt I had entailed trying to loosen up that crisp illustrative style and become quicker and more gestural so that I could do Plein Air – think and work quickly and loosely in the field.

That was difficult with my background. I was resisting change even though I liked what I was incorporating. Now, my temporary vision restrictions are making me realize I need to move ahead once more.

I’ve done some reading and studying over the last year about the effects that vision might have on an artist’s color theory and style. I understand this now. There are active conversations on possible implications of nearsightedness and cataracts to perception of color and clarity of image for several of my favorite artists from various centuries, even impacting and possibly giving rise to  movements like impressionism.

Observing the detail and simplicity of the canna bulbs I dug this week.

I think doing these little impromptu sketches are my way of thinking mindfully – a functional tool for me to continue my processing of where I am and what might lie ahead. Functionally it’s good exercise and good use of these little sketchbooks while I’m waiting to get scheduled for the surgery. It certainly will make me easier to live with for the people I care about around me. I’ll keep you posted.

Promises Kept

April 20, 2025

Sometimes we make a promise to ourselves, to a family member, to a friend, or to a new acquaintance with the very best of intentions. Then something gets in the way and we don’t fulfill that promise – at least in the timely manner that we intended.

I am embarrassed to admit that happens more often than it should. Life gets in the way. Excuses grow as we are distracted. The letter that I meant to write goes unsent. The coffee date I had been meaning to have doesn’t get scheduled. The painting I started remains on the easel unfinished. When I realize that I’ve done it yet again, I am humbled and more determand to behave better in the future, and I ask that friend or new acquaintance or even my own heart to forgive me and allow me to begin again with grace. Life is too short to carefully pack all those little guilt nuggets into a bag and carry them.

I occasionally do historical events where I take my paintings to show and share. It’s one of my greatest joys to work on a painting in public and talk with the people who come through.

Recently I had begun a painting at home right before one of my events. (see process images 1-5 above) I took that painting and worked on it there. (see process image 6 above)Typical of an event where there’s a good turnout with a lot of people, I get less painting done and more talking done. Ordinarily it’s not a problem. I know that when I get home I’ll finish the painting and go on to the next one. This time, however, I started a conversation with some wonderful children from a family about the painting. The little girl in particular kept coming back to see how far along I had gotten. I was not progressing very fast and I even apologized that I was talking more than I was painting. She was very kind and patient and when it was time for her family to leave the event I said, “I tell you what! I will finish this painting when I get home and I will make a comment in my post just for you.”

Circumstances have not allowed me to get that painting done and fulfill that promise the way I should have. A couple days ago I got an email from her mom asking if I had finished it. It was said with such kindness and grace and reminded me the very great importance of promises kept.

The place I chose to paint is of a particular shoreline on Madeline Island, Wisconsin. This is one of the Apostle Islands in Lake Superior. I have personally enjoyed going there after a hot day talking about art and history at the Madeline Island History Museum in LaPointe. There is a peace and a sense of renewal at this place that reminds me of all the peace that comes from forgiving ourselves for falling short of our intentions.

I hope you will enjoy today’s 40″ x 16″ oil on canvas painting, entitled ‘Promises Kept’ in honor of Rose.