Musings

I think I've been too introspective to say much lately. I'm taking everything in.


This is my view a few days per week now.

At home, I'm working on paintings at lightning speed, in hopes of switching out a few of my bluish paintings on the gallery wall with some new (warmer) art. The goal is next week. I'll keep you posted, but you can also see them by stopping by the gallery during March's First Thursdays Art Walk.

It's been educational at the gallery. I like watching people react to my art, and what questions they ask regarding it. Some people don't seem to "get" it (or at least don't react to it), while others find it downright fascinating. They like the sand, and how it "sparkles." They say it "looks like stained glass."

People like red in Laguna Beach. They say it when they walk through the door.

One of the best parts has been having to answer questions about my philosophy and themes. I often avoid answering that question internally (it seems too complicated), but now I'm required to say something, so I'd best know what I'm talking about. "Why do you paint circles?" is a complicated thought, and one that I don't exactly know how to unpack. I've always painted circles, from the first painting I've painted circles. Hmm. I mean, I have some ideas, I know it's related to spirituality, to science, to the cosmos, to Zen, to completeness. The trick is being able to squish that down into an intelligent sounding sentence.

I'm learning to paint faster without skimping on quality. Mostly this means making a decision about what to do next and then completing that step confidently. What I am skipping is the hemming and hawing, the unnecessary steps and layers that add nothing to the painting except time. I'm learning to know what I want ahead of time, and how to achieve it.

I'd thought I was probably going to move away from sunburst designs this year, and now I find myself obsessively painting them again. I guess they were not perfected enough, maybe they never will be, maybe I'll paint new and interesting sunbursts for eternity. I'm excited about them, truly. I feel like I've opened up a new window in color exploration, and a sunburst holds the color just the way I want.

Warming Up

I have so much going on right now. So much.

All good. Just much.

I was "painting like a millionaire" today and completely ran out of beach sand. I also may or may not have gotten sand and/or paint in my eye. Hopefully I'll live.

Something I've learned already is that I need to be bolder in painting warm-colored paintings. I think I get trapped in my happy aqua-teal-turquoise-cool-aqua paintings too easily. Not that aqua-teal-turquoise-cool-aqua paintings are a bad thing, I just like to challenge myself, and red paintings (for instance) are a challenge. The funny thing is, and I've said this before, I always end up thinking my warm colored paintings are some of my best work. I think the challenge of it brings out new energy and focus.

However, the most exciting painting I'm currently working on is teal and white, and I'm totally okay with that.

But the REALLY exciting part of my Wednesday happens at 9pm. Really REALLY exciting:

Art Walk tomorrow!

I know, I know, short notice again. But I have a good excuse: I didn't find out until yesterday! It's been sort of a whirlwind week. I have some interesting things happening, of which I will get into more when I have more information.

:o)

Anyway, for the time being, I wanted to invite you to stop by the First Thursdays Art Walk in Laguna Beach tomorrow, February 5th from 7-9pm. I will be showing some of my art at the William Meire Gallery, located at:

1590 South Coast Hwy, Unit #1
Laguna Beach, CA 92651

It's right on the corner of Bluebird Canyon and South Coast Highway. Oh look, a map:


View Larger Map

There are, of course, many galleries to visit up and down PCH, so you can get your fill of local art! Also, my friend Andy is playing at Skylab Modern Art at 6:30 and 8pm, literally 0.1 miles north of the William Meire Gallery. I hear they serve martinis there. Woo!

See you there.