Green isnot usually one of my favorite colors, but, of late, it is one that I seem drawn to. The new small works of leaves, rocks and water intrigue...
Color of interest
June 30, 2014
Trust you are enjoying the new website. It is great to be able to share the work I have done and, as the weeks go by, the paintings I am working on....
My New Website
June 26, 2014
SpottedSerpents are not my first thought as I greet the day, and yet they have been popping up in my mind the last few days. I did a series of serp...
July 5, 2014
The Silent Hours
October 24, 2014
The house issilentanddarkas I sit and watch the sentry lights perform their duty guarding the sleeping houses. Mother has been up several times thinking she has to find her parents and siblings and each time she gets back into bed she thanks me and tells me she won’t forget now that she knows. Now she has found the sweet peace of slumber and I haven’t. So I am up and thinking about things that come into my mind and what art is calling my name. The nocturne world is so reduced from one of day. With stars hidden behind a curtain of clouds only the sparks of man define a landscape mostly still beyond the windows. There is comfort in this small pool of illumination that puddles around me as I write. I find myself waiting. Waiting for Mother to need me as she wakes again. Waiting for action to happen. It is a strange time, when no one wants to hear from someone and would rather enjoy the hug of warm blanket and soft pillow. When it seems odd to look out and have such a limited view where there is a vast panorama in the sunlight. Objects invisible in cloaks of indigo and violet form only in the mind; they are too well blended into the darkness to be perceived. Much like the way ideas come to me. Vague and undefined they creep closer to my pool of vision and as they get closer they become more distinct. Apparent, palpable and less nebulous they form and, like a specter, reveal their sometimes cryptic message to me. Robbed of the brilliance of day these fantom images form not through filters of sight but of memory. Emotions heat the cauldron as ideas melt and form and release their own energy. Explosions of insight and patterns begin to forge a chain of thought and coalesce into an image before my inner eye. The texture of darkness also adds to the forming making the designs float in a limited/limitless environment that sets the form unique from anything around it. Would not like to have the mind view only when I create. There is so much more when light strikes the world around and enhances what has only been thought of. Art is a selection of what there is available and the more that there is to work from the more concise the communication. Maybe I just enjoy more than what is heard. More experiences to process and use, and more energy to flow into me and the work. Sounds from down the hall announce Mother is stirring from her fitful sleep. The darkness still grips the land and she will call out and I will answer and we will see where this leads us.
Hope your day is filled with the joy and peace of good thoughts and pleasant places to explore.