Almost done!

I love it when a painting is almost done. It's my favorite part of the process. At this point, I'm able to focus on detailing and fixing things, since the bulk of my work is complete. I get to spend a lot of time really close up to the painting, which allows me to actually see what I've done. I feel this great sense of accomplishment. This used to be a blank canvas wrapped in plastic! I have corrected this. The world needs color. (It also needs people to join hands and start a love train, but that's a different story.)

Productivity.

More to paint: I'm going to be doing a series of smaller paintings to hang in a salon in Newport Beach, CA this summer. I'm looking forward to it. It will be a welcome balance to the myriad of large paintings I've been working on lately.

I went to SOKA today. I always leave there happy. I was anxious to go home and paint. This is different than some other days I go home and paint, in which I don't necessarily feel like painting. In those times, I paint anyway, regardless of whether or not I feel like it. Today, I was really looking forward to it.

Teamwork.

Sometimes it helps just to have another set of eyes.

On schedule now. I think.

As of right now, I have 3 separate paintings going. (One of which is a set of four 12" x 12" canvases.) My super-big 4' x 5' painting is making it difficult to add anything else to the mix.

I feel stifled.

So, I have put aside the set of 4 and I'm hanging my smoke painting on the wall until I feel inspired to work on it more. Yes, my smoke painting.

I want to add something new. I also want to finish my current big one because it's so much fun to do.

Forward motion, you know.

Pretty

Strangely, if I get enough sleep, I actually enjoy the mornings. It's sort of pretty out. The light is different. Most importantly, if I can get a first round of painting done before noon, it means that section will dry sooner. That means I can get more painting done each day. A full round of painting & drying takes a bit of time because of my particular technique, so the extra painting rounds I can get each day are crucial to how quickly I complete a painting.

I found this rose on Valentine's Day. It was not like any other rose I saw that day. (And I saw about 10 billion of them.) The image is not altered in the slightest. Phi!

I gave it to Colin.

Casper

Um... You see this, right?

Upcoming Show

I just confirmed a show for this year.

My work will be on display during the month of July at Townley Fine Art in Laguna Beach, California. There will be an artist reception (for me!) on Friday, July 13th from 6-9pm.

You're all invited.

I also have plans brewing for a few other venues as well.

In other news: I'm finishing up 3 paintings right now, and will be posting them soon. I'm also getting a gallery page up so that I may devote more time to blogging about my process, and not use this solely for displaying art. This will, of course, render my other blog totally irrelevant.

Warming . 24"x36" . 2006

*shown in normal light (top), both normal and black light (middle), and just black light (bottom).

It also glows in the dark.

Ultraviolet, which really means "beyond violet," refers to the spectrum of light not normally visible to the human eye. It doesn't mean it's not there. It just means we can't see it. There are many colors that are only visible under UV light, often found in things like minerals, and on the feathers of birds. I don't really feel that I should be bound by such things as "the visable spectrum" either, and I enjoy using ALL the colors when I do art. I feel it has a much broader sense of completeness.

Seeing how different lighting drastically enhances the color of the painting is intrinsic for me in the process of creating it. Since I spend most of the creating-time in normal lighting conditions, I too feel surprised each time I turn the blacklight on. It feels more like it changes with you, living and breathing throughout the day. Even though I can't see it glow in broad daylight, knowing that it will once night falls is interesting to me. It's as though the painting itself has something more to offer you.

I challenged myself with this piece, by attempting a very "red" painting. (My most difficult color.) I was also interested in doing something without as many intersecting lines and circles as I normally tend towards. It really strengthened my color and design skills (I think). I will definitely feel more confident using warm colors in the future, and I think it ultimately improves my work to constantly be doing things I find difficult.

Lots of exciting things are happening. 2007 will be even better than 2006.

I'm just gettin' warmed up.

Da kine . 24x30 . 2006

(shown in both normal and UV light, as well as in sketch form.)

I used a mixture of sand and acrylic to do this. The painting itself is fairly heavy. I wanted to create something that looked like it was made of stone. Glowing bricks.

My Grandpa used to have a rock cutter and after he was done hunting rocks he would cut them in half and polish them up. I was always fascinated that this dull scraggly rock had such beautiful colors and lines inside. Blues to greens to purples to crystals. From dusty and dull to sparkly and smooth in under an hour. Sometimes he would glue little penguins or army men to the rocks (except for the ones that were 55 million years old.) I'm not kidding. They're still all over my Grandma's house.

Cool blues are so soothing to me.

Early . 24x36 . 2006

Finally. This painting has mocked me for months. I don't know if you've ever been mocked by a painting, but let me tell you, they're vicious. I proudly proclaimed this 'finished' months ago, but immediately began reworking it and only now completed everything.

This is about ancient times and civilizations. Specifically, do you know what The Antikythera Mechanism is? (The Antikythera Mechanism) I didn't until this past summer. It's an ancient analog computer that predicted the movement of planets. (!) It got me thinking about a lot of things that people don't seem to consider. Like, for instance, how do we really explain the rise and fall of very advanced peoples thousands of years ago? Do our computers and huge metropolitan cities really make us more advanced? Can we truly comprehend the knowledge held by these civilizations?

The implications are profound. It really forces one to question the reality of one's own beliefs. At the very least, it makes the entire journey of faith and understanding much more complicated. I like the introduction of new questions to my own spiritual journey. In my opinion, it makes God bigger and less defined, which I find reassuring. I like being reminded that we, as human beings, cannot possess the same knowledge as God. We do not know, and we cannot define GOD by our current time, current faiths, or current understanding. If we can assuredly say Who God is, what then, is the purpose of faith?

I don't know. It seems like 'the beginning of time' keeps happening... in cycles almost.

Meat loves art.

Oh yeah, and that's a new (unfinished) painting behind him.

Coins . 16x20 . 2006

1. artificial lighting
2. uv and artificial lighting combined
3. uv lighting only
4. no light (glow)

I broke the mold with this one. No, really, I mean the canvas separated from the wooden frame after I began painting it. After an emergency trip to purchase a staple gun, damage was kept to a minimum.

I wanted to paint something with entirely warm colors. I think this one is a response to my earlier painting, Rings. I wasn't trying to portray nature exactly, but more the interesting designs that can be made through using circles. I had all these visions of ancient coins and ancient buildings. I was thinking about feeling lucky, having all sorts of possibilities awaiting. Flip a coin, take a chance! My Grandpa used to collect coins, all different kinds, and we spent many hours examining them together. His collection was a treasure itself, but the memory of those many hours pouring through the different coins together is where the greatest treasure is. I am so fortunate to have that memory.

I wanted the blacklight painting to be very different from how it looks under normal lighting. You know how coins always have two sides, and those two sides are completely different? It's almost like two separate moods. It helps remind me that anything can change at any moment. You never know when your luck will turn around, right? Your destiny can lie within any new choice you make. I love that.

Avete trovato il vostro destino?

Looking Up (at night) . 36x24 . 2006

1. natural/artificial lighting

2. artificial and uv lighting combined
3. uv lighting only
4. no light (glow in the dark!)

Whereas my last painting focused on sun and moon imagery, this one is based on planets. Specifically, what you would "see" if you looked up at the night sky. After I began this one, we watched a show that debated how many planets were really in our solar system, and whether or not Pluto can actually be considered a planet.

Ah well.

I used a lot of texture again, I think because I couldn't imagine "space" being flat. I used a few new techniques for creating darkness, which I think works better than what I was doing before.

In the daytime, near a window, the painting is actually very bright and colorful, but at night under artificial light, it looks much darker. I love how it changes in different lighting. It actually changes with the time of day, which is awesome since I created it to be a "nighttime" painting.

(UPDATE 11/07: I've added my super high quality glow paints to this piece. The stars will glow for HOURS now! Hooray!)

Summer! . 24x36 . 2006

(*shown in both normal and blacklight.)

This one makes me happy. :o) I called it "Summer!" because that's how I felt about the world in early June before global warming gave us the worst deadly hot summer I've been through since living on a desert commune 15 years ago. Ick. June was a beautiful month. Everything was clear.

I think this was a bit of backlash from my previous painting, which was heavy on texture and complexity. I also wanted to see how quickly I could complete a large painting, since Thin Space took such a long time. I finished it in 2 weeks. It would have gone even quicker if the sun hadn't started melting the paint when I was out on the balcony.

I really love the "shine" effect on this one, which unfortunately looks spectacular in person, but doesn't seem to photograph well.

On the other hand, I'm still improving my photography, so perhaps I can replace the image soon.

This is my personal favorite. So far, of course.

Thin Space . 30x40 . 2006

(*shown in both normal light and blacklight)

This one was complicated. I spent a lot of time doing sketches (something new for me) beforehand. I knew it would be important to get the design down correctly before transferring anything to the canvas. This was the first time I was able to work on such a large piece - 30x40! I barely had room in my tiny apartment to paint it. In the Celtic tradition, "Thin Spaces" are places where the spiritual and the natural world intersect. I wanted to create something that was without particular direction, something very interpretive. I've gotten a lot of positive response on this one. I really wanted to make something elegant. I learned a lot from this piece, and it really opened my mind up to possibilities of future paintings. I love how it looks in blacklight. Actually, it looks best with both blacklight and regular light on at the same time. Kind of like it's glowing from within. I am very happy that I get to visit it often. It looks stunning hanging above my friend's fireplace. She says she often meditates to it, which is possibly the highest compliment I've ever received on anything in my life.

I can't get a good picture of it with the lights off, but in total darkness it looks like a field of stars. I never expected to create paintings that look good in utter blackness, but I'm completely satisfied with the result.

In truth, I think the concept of 'Thin Spaces' represents most, if not all, of my work.