Sunday, January 31, 2010

Saturday, January 30, 2010

An experiment in technique


This isn't plein air, but a style I been wanting to try. It was done in my studio.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

After coffee


It's cold, gloomy and rainy. It is, after all, winter. The rain makes the hills change color from gold to green. Beautiful. And we need the rain.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

He thinks he looks like Rembrandt

The model thought his pose, his beret and shirt gave him that look. Probably it was the lighting. Maybe the beard. And the nose.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Baylands Pond

8 x 10"
Oil on wood panel

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Opposites Attract


Two peppers
Oil
8 x 10" on wood panel

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Tiny Eggplants

These look huge. They're not, at only 3" long each. When I was buying them the clerk asked what I was making for dinner. I said I was going to paint them. He put them in a bag very carefully and didn't charge me.
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Friday, January 22, 2010

17 Mile Drive

Near Pebble Beach. Fog rolling in. Or out.
Usually the mist lifts later
to reveal the rest of the bay.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Cheryl's Pitcher

When Cheryl brought over her orange pitcher to paint in the studio, she was fighting the last stages of cancer. Her personality, upbeat personality would seemingly overcome any illness. It did too, for a while, she got through the time better than I could have.

She was dedicated to her family, art and life...and she was on her way to becoming a gifted painter.

This is for her.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Last Farm


Amidst tech growth sits a lone farm with mustard grass. It's where the Canadian Geese rest on their annual migration. Where they held the Pumpkin Patch and the Christmas Train & Petting Farm. It's what makes this area still feel rural. Sometimes people just pull off the road and walk through it like a park.

It's beautiful and ethereal since it's been sold and will be developed.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

A Skill? Talent? Perseverence?

It's all the above. Plus frustration. Angst. Depression. Once in a blue moon, a painter feels good about their own work.
Seems for every good one, or presentable piece there are many, many outtakes. Duds.

I live for those few successful pieces.

Monday, January 18, 2010

A Beginning

The start of dedicated and scheduled painting. Using oils and in some cases, oil bars on linen. My subjects: landscapes, people and objects in my life. What kind of life? From tech infused Northern California, I choose to return to my roots through the depiction of local surroundings.