A Late August Morning

Thinking of Malthus, 2016, Archival Digital Print

Thinking of Balthus, 2016, Archival Digital Print

It was a morning of some terrific images. Billy and I were out at four and ready for the sun to come over the horizon. At exactly the same time each day a single bird begins his song. The painter started in the studio yesterday and went through 8 gallons of White.




New Studio moves closer to finish

The New Studio

The New Studio

My new studio is near completion. This is a shot of it in June before the work began. It’s a solid cement block building with the lower floor built into the bedrock. The ceiling has been raised to the roof to add height and the walls are covered in Homosote as per my usual requirement. In effect the entire box is a tack wall. Homosote is a humble building material but there is nothing better for notes, drawings, photos, anything that you need to put up to see. You just need pushpins or a staple gun.

A Quiet Sunday

Dahlias, 2016, Archival Digital Print

Dahlias, 2016, Archival Digital Print

I am musing on the brain’s ability to read flat images, how it can interpret what it sees and translate it into three dimensions. I believe it is primarily learned via touch.  Without a tactile understanding it makes no sense.  For the painter, we refer to the tactility of an image, not meaning impasto but an image that carries the quality of felt real-ness.



Hot, hot, hot and hooked up

The Pond in the Heat, August

The Pond in the Heat, August. 2016, Archival Digital Print

Hooked up to the Internet, it’s been a long few months off the grid. Well, not quite, I had my phone and used the hot spot on the occasions I needed it.   Nothing increases appreciation like lack.  I have been in the electro dessert and parched, even seeing mirages but no more.  My oasis of data is streaming again.

The studio renovation is moving ahead and should be completed by the fall.  I’m eager to move in and begin my routine after this long trek. I’m listening to Tina Turner sing On Silent Wings.  The backyard is cleaned up and the Red-Tailed Hawk who oversees the property seems happy with the changes.  He hangs there particularly in the early morning no doubt waiting for innocent voles and garter snakes, maybe small children to pass by.

Local corn and tomatoes are plentiful and delicious.  I buy melons warm from the field, sweeter than any I have ever bought from the store and with my books now unpacked I meet all my old friends anew, even better this time.  What has been packed away for two years is finally coming out of the darkness into its home.

I hope your summer has been equally full and positive.