Sunday, May 30, 2010

The work behind the works . . .

Occasionally another artists work "beats" me to an expression or feeling or experience I wish to portray. And often I find the best way to overcome the desire to "copy" or create something similar is to study the work by doing just that -- copying it! While working up ideas for the MS art show, "The Art of MS," I found myself wanting to portray what the MS hug feels like. However, Frank Frazetta had already created an image that conveys the sensation of having one's torso/chest compressed as if being hugged by a boa constrictor in his painting "Serpent." So I studied it to see if I could experience some of the genius behind this image.

I decided not to pursue this idea after doing this study because it would not be my own at this point. But I hope to do other concept studies of this idea to bring about an image that is original and unique, and perhaps in some way will serve as homage to this great master of intensity and freshness in the world of extraordinary subject matter.

R.I.P. Frank Frazetta, February 9, 1928 – May 10, 2010

Friday, May 28, 2010

Happy Place #1


This is the first in a new series I plan to be painting in the upcoming months depicting "happy places" I go to when pain threatens to overcome my spirit. The images will come from a bucket list of fantasy places and endeavors, some with historical foundation, that I tap regularly.


Happy Place #1, watercolor, 11" x 16"






Saturday, May 8, 2010

Creating art with a specific story

During my visit at the MS clinic to schedule my second MRI series to look for spinal lesions, I was encouraged by my neurologist's assistant to submit some art to their "Living with MS" art exhibit this June. Even though I do not have a diagnosis for my weird constellation of neurological symptoms, she said as a patient in the clinic I ought to give it a whirl.

In developing this image I found myself relating to the iconic image painted by Andrew Wyeth in "Christina's World." While I haven't settled on a title, I have developed a brief description for the painting specifically for the show:

"The artist looks longingly at the mountains through an invisible barrier between herself and the activity she had just begun to enjoy before her untimely side-lining. Inspired by Andrew Wyeth's "Christina's World," an enigmatic painting of longing and determination, the artist might be asking: Is there a way that those hills and peaks can once again become the artist's domain?"

Possible name: "Invisible Barrier"


Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Grandson's first Christmas . . .


We got to enjoy Keaton's first Christmas. Amazing how much he had changed since Halloween . . .

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Why I paint


Where Mountain Meets Sky: Muir Snowfield
pastel 12" x 18" on Fabriano Roma

This is one of my very favorite pastels, done from a photo one of the first trips to Mt. Rainier after I bought my first digital camera. I had also just recently discovered Fabriano Roma, a beautiful handmade paper with a slight laid finish and great tooth . . . a paper much like that used by Michelangelo. Muir Snowfield is a trudge of a hike, the first leg of any climb that follows the Camp Muir/Ingraham Glacier route to the summit. The Moon Rocks are to the lower right . . . a place where at the end of June 1995 I almost got blown off the mountain after my summit attempt.

The snowfield is vast, and later in the summer, treacherous. Every hundred feet of elevation gain was chore. But it also a place of stark, barren beauty. Ants, spiders, and even lady bugs crawled along with us up there. The immense summit stares down on long snaking lines of climbers hosted by Rainier Mountaineering, as well as those few of us in smaller groups, as if to dare us to continue. For many it is an oft repeated day hike . . . for me it was a feat never before attempted . . .

It was the sky, and below the serpentine spine of the ridge that falls below Camp Muir, that made this the scene that captured the spirit of climbing Rainier. Below is a colored pencil self-portrait, done from a photo taken by my guide, Steve Teufert, of Olympic Mountaineering, at the point where he and I turned around to decend . . . at Disappointment Cleaver:


My First Descent
21" x 17" colored pencil



Tuesday, July 14, 2009

He is growing faster than we can visit . . .

The kid is growing, cooing and laughing now . . . we must go to see him soon!