Saturday, November 16, 2013

Here's a re-hash re-post of some previous posts, as well as some new work~

"Ben Goldman says Yes," detail. oil on masonite, 2012

 "Ben Goldman says Yes," 24" diameter, oil on masonite, 2012

"Birds in Winter," 48" x 24", oil on masonite, 2009

"You Hold My Drippy Heart in Your Hands," 36"x 24" ,oil on masonite, 2010

"Love Hard," part one of two, 36" x 36", oil on masonite, 2011
"Love Hard," part two of two, 36" x 36", oil on masonite 2011

"I Have Something to Show You," 36"x 36" oil on masonite, 2012

"Bridge," 48"x 36", oil on masonite, 2013
" All That Stirs Up the Lees of Things," 12" x 18", oil on masonite and epoxy, 2013 

"Aunt Ginny and Mr. Hawk," 30"x36", graphite on paper, 2013

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

It's officially Spring here in Georgia. Birds are singing, bees are buzzing, plants are pollinating all over the place. This is just a little water color to celebrate that fact. Peas Unearthed, y'all.


Thursday, March 21, 2013

I tend to work on lots of projects at the same time. Here is a page from a sketch book -you may notice the tear at the bottom, evidence of having torn out a page. As anyone who uses Moleskines would probably regard that as sacrilege. I do too. I must have had a very good reason.

New Year

Another installment from "What does your soul look like?"

Dead Air

And another...

Glasses and Concern

Finally, a page from a children's book I'm collaborating on:

Space Monkey

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Here are some images from a new series I'm working on called "What does your Soul look like?"

Usually my work is really thought through before I lay pen to paper or brush to canvas. Most times I see the image very clearly in my mind before I even begin, and for me "making art" can primarily boil down to an effort to move the image from my mind's eye into the material realm. (Which I am pretty good at. If I do say so myself.) This can be a simultaneously satisfying and frustrating experience. Satisfying because this ability has served me well over the years in both commission work and in my own. It saves time, money, and space to work through the possibilities of a piece mentally and be prepared with a final product before I even begin. However. The absolute spiritual nature of art lies in the exploration and discovery found in the process itself.

That being said, I love to doodle. I love getting lost in a drawing, making that first mark and having no idea where it will lead. One of my favorite things I've ever drawn was in pencil on a desk in my college math class. I spent the entire two and a half hours working on that drawing, which emerged as a Buddha sitting on a tatami mat floating in space, surrounded by stars and flowers. When I went to that class a day later the drawing was gone, the desk wiped clean.  Which is fine :) I find impermanence and ephemerality to be beautiful. See: ikebana.


Often my doodles form faces. Often they are worried, or lined in some way. Concerned, or sad. Sometimes not. They begin in my emotions, I suppose, then become something of their own, something that feels like it doesn't really belong to me. So here's what is happening here:

Before leaving for a long road trip with a group of friends, I picked up an "activity" book by Taro Gomi I found in the children's section of a store.  

Filling in the empty spaces of his simple outlines was very satisfying.