I struggle with technology. Not so much that there is technology and its gong to take over the world some day and end up destroying humanity; no, that's not the problem. The problem is having to interact with it ALL the time and the amount of brain juice it takes for me to even decide when and where and how to interact with it. 

You see, I like to create.  I like to paint. I like to write things - short stories, a little longer stories, screenplays, poems (I said poems because saying I like to write poetry sounds way too foo-fooey). And I like to create things with clay - pottery, if you will. I like to create things. Real things that didn't exist in this world and then  - poof - now they do. Some people might think we already have too many things in this world and wonder why I am creating more. I don't know, I have to and that's about as detailed as the explanation can get.

 Anyway, once I've created something, I occasionally like to share it with the world - or at least the 3.5   people that follow me on social media - and this is where the struggle with technology comes in. What   is the best way to share it? Take a picture. With what? A phone. a camera. No, scan it for best results.   I don't have a scanner big enough and anyway, how do I scan a clay pot. No, a clay pot you have to   take a picture. With what? Where? What kind of background? 

 Okay, I took a picture, now what?  

 Well, I actually know "now what?" but oh look, a glare on the photo! Take it into photoshop and fix it.   You mean alter the picture of the physical thing? Should I crop it. What about a frame? If its a   painting, yes but probably not for a coffee mug.  But it just doesn't look good or at least not as good as   the real thing or sometimes, the picture looks better than the real thing. Now what? Hide it? Post it?   Oh crap, post it where?

 I have a website and I put things there but should everything go there? An AI Bot once told me that I should post things I made with clay alongside my paintings. What will people think? That you paint AND make things with clay? Um, yes? Well, we can't have that. Okay. Then what? Have a strategy. Okay, for what? Where to post? Oh crap, post it where?

So maybe I don't struggle with technology but struggle because technology exists. Or that I have to use it. I  don't want to use it. It really doesn't seem to make my life easier. 

Oh writing...you didn't ask me about technology and writing. Of course you didn't, it likely you not even here anymore. But writing, I love to write. I love to write freehand with a pencil and paper. I prefer pencil to pen because of the feel. I love the sound of paper. I love the sound of a pencil on paper and marking through things and doodling when my brain starts to think about not thinking about things. But if I write on paper...how do I share it? 

Oooohhhh....a remarkable. do you know what that is - an electronic pad of paper!! But it doesn't feel like paper or sound like paper or smell like paper so I should use paper. You mean a notebook? Yes. How many notebooks to I need? What? One for poems? One for short stories? The Remarkable keeps all that together and converts it to text for me. Then use that. But it doesn't feel like paper or sound like paper or smell like paper.  Ok. then just use paper.

If technology wasn't here, there wouldn't be a question. Just write on paper. Just show people the physical thing. Don't worry about lighting and cropping and editing and color-correcting. Just create things. Just be good at the creating of things, not at the management of the technology of the sharing of the physical thing. 

Most of my paintings don’t begin with a detailed plan. If I am painting in a series (I am usually painting in series), then I know I am going to be painting a bird or a still life or a vase of flowers but other than that, there really isn't a plan.

I usually start with getting something on the surface color, mark or a light sketch of something that feel is worth following. Sometimes recognizable forms appear quickly. Other times they emerge later in the process.

A bird might begin as nothing more than a shape that interrupts the painting in the right way. A flower might appear after several layers of paint have already been scraped back or covered over.

I like working this way because it leaves room for discovery. I don't feel tied to anything. I can add something, remove it, add something else, scrape off part of that...whatever. There aren't any rules other than don't worry about following rules.

If everything is predetermined from the beginning, the process can start to feel more like execution than painting. It becomes like typing for me....four letters forward, backspace, 3 letters forward, backspace, backspace....etc. Its not fluid. Its not fun.

What interests me most is the seeing the form develop out of layers of pushing paint around. There is a little painting magic that happens (at least for me) when the image starts to form and there are bits and pieces of the previous layers showing through. The image starts becoming identifiable, but not fully fixed.

That’s usually the stage where I become most careful.

Push too far and the painting can become over-explained. Pull back too much and it loses structure entirely. The challenge is finding a balance where the form still feels alive.

I think that’s why birds and floral forms keep appearing in my work. They’re recognizable enough to anchor the painting, but flexible enough to dissolve back into gesture and texture.

I’m not trying to recreate nature (or anything) exactly as it appears. I’m more interested in translating what can be observed into something else - you still see it, but not really.

Over time, I’ve realized I want to just trust my instincts over having a solid plan. A solid plan sounds like work and it sounds like something that I could easily mess up. Following my instincts lets me be free and explore whatever I want, however I want.

The paintings often tell me what they need through the process:

• where something should disappear
• where structure should return
• where the image needs restraint

Sometimes the best decision is leaving part of the painting unfinished. Our brains can fill in gaps and if there are gaps left to be filled in, then viewers can all have there own experience. (as long as they all have their own brain...)

I think there is also energy in an unfinished edge. Its like you are following a path and then, all of a sudden, there are no signs and no path, you have to make your own way.

The goal is never realism for me. I’m chasing something that feels familiar, never fully settles, and leaves room for you to join in the creation experience.

One of the hardest parts of painting is knowing when to stop. It has to be one of the most asked questions in online (and offline) painting groups.

"I'm not sure when if this painting is done, what do you think...."

"Should I keep going or leave it as is..."

"Is this done or does it need something else..."

What I believe to be most interesting and true is that no one can answer that question but the artist. As an artist we have to make that decision for each and every one of our paintings. 

A lot of my work exists in that in-between space where forms are recognizable but not fully defined. Birds, flowers, and other natural elements often emerge in the paintings, but I’m usually not interested in rendering them exactly as they appear in life.

Life draws us to resolutions: movies need to resolve we feel like it was a bad ending, conversation need to resolve or we wonder if the other person is mad at us because they just stopped talking and walked away, arguments, meetings (let's wrap this up) and even music.  Have you ever heard a song that doesn't resolve at the end and comeback to that perfect note...not resolving a song can feel really uncomfortable and some people can't do it - they have to resolve it.

Well, in my opinion, that need for resolution doesn't exist in painting. In fact, that point of resolution, if left unresolved, is an entry point for the viewer to take over and experience the painting in a way that only they can. I don't want everyone to have the same experience.

I am not a realistic painter - I have a camera for that.  What interests me about painting is the ability to simplify, distort, erase, and rediscover forms through the process itself.

There’s a point in many paintings where they could go either direction:

• more realistic
• more abstract
• resolve
• leave it unresolved

If I overwork the image, it can lose tension and become overly explained. If I stop too early, it can feel incomplete in the wrong way. Most of the process is trying to stay somewhere between those extremes.

I think viewers respond to that balance even if they can’t immediately describe it. I like it when someone says they like one of my paintings...but they don't know why. You don't have to know why. There isn't a test. I want to provide something to pull you in and then leave room for you to go where ever you might go.

Some might think that this is a cop-out of sorts - not "finishing" a painting. I don't think so. When I stop working on a painting, it means that painting has already satisfied what I need it to do. It has taken me somewhere through the act of paintings it. 

Now by leaving room for you, the viewer to jump in, you can experience the painting in a way that it takes you somewhere -anywhere - as well.  

The paintings that stay with me personally are usually the ones that continue revealing themselves slowly. That’s the kind of experience I hope my work creates as well.

What one word do you hear most when people look at your art?

For me, the answer to this question is simple.

“Interesting.”

For a while, I didn’t know what to do with that reaction. It can sound vague or polite. Not quite praise. Not quite criticism. Just… interesting. 

But the more I heard it and paid actually attention, the more I realized people might actually mean something more specific. 

I think “interesting” often means:

• recognizable, but not completely clear - They see something they recognize, sort of.
• familiar, but slightly unsettled - They see a bird or flowers but wonder why it looks the way it does.
• something that keeps unfolding the longer you look at it - They need more time to really have an opinion.

If any of these are true, then woohoo, because that’s the kind of painting I’m drawn to making.

I’m less interested in exact description. If I want a perfect replica of something, I’ll use my camera. Painting becomes more compelling to me when forms begin to loosen, shift, or partially disappear. I want to create something that the viewer is drawn to but may not even be sure why they are drawn to it.

In my world, a bird can still feel like a bird without every feather being explained. A flower can still hold its presence without being fully resolved.

That space between recognition and abstraction is where most of my work lives.

I don’t usually begin a painting with a fully formed concept or message. I tend to work more intuitively than that. Certain forms keep reappearing, and over time I’ve learned to trust that repetition instead of over-explaining it. I used to (and still do at times) wonder why I paint flowers. I doubt that anyone who knows me, even a little bit, would associate me with flowers. Yet, I am consistently drawn to painting flowers - or at least a some form of a flower.

What matters to me is that the painting stay alive and have energy. That something exists beyond an image of a "thing" that draws the viewer in. A painting can lose that feeling or draw if I define it or overwork it too much.  The process is usually about finding that balance somewhere between control and letting go.

So for me, when people say the work feels “interesting,” I take that as a positive response to the way I want to paint and the type of work that I want to create. I don't want the painting to give away everything. I want people to want or even need to spend some time with it in order to figure out what it means to them.   

Start Painting for Adults

Had my first class of 2024 and while it was a small but mighty group, we had a lot of fun, talked about art including a little art history and worked through a fun (possibly stressful for some) painting exercise.

the class

The idea behind this class is to help adults rekindle or fire up their love for painting by providing them guidance on how to get started and then continue painting. There a times, as adults, where we want to do something but we never get around to doing it because, well, we don't really know enough about it or we feel silly starting some thing "at our age" or maybe we just don't know where to start. This class solves those problems by providing a safe, fun environment to ask any question and try,,,whatever they want. I also feel like we have ample opportunities in our area for kids to get involved in art programs so I wanted to gear something towards adults.

In the class we talk about materials, process, the elements of art and a few of the art "rules" that get thrown around. (We then talk about breaking those rules...cause that's how this class rolls). We also spend a little time looking at art styles or movements such as impressionism, abstract art, realism, etc... to provide a little history of art in general. We also jump over to Instagram and look at a couple of current artists to see what is happening today. I think it is important as an artist to be aware of the world that you are working in and to have an understanding of where this "thing" that you are doing came from and a little bit of what's going on in that world today. 

This class is different than many of the "wine and canvas" type events in that I don't provide an image that we will be painting but rather provide some lose instruction such as "paint a vase with flowers in it" or "paint a tree". It can be a big tree or a little tree or a dead tree or a blue tree or....it doesn't matter, just paint a tree. I then follow up with some exercises to help the artists loosen up, ease the tension and hopefully have some fun.

Looking forward to more class this year. I'll be updating my schedule soon.

I don't do New Year's resolutions but I do look back on the previous year and reflect on what went well and and identify a few things to improve on going forward. I actually do this throughout the year as well but the start of a new year seems like a good time to write a little blog post about it. We'll see, maybe not.

Some Things That Went Well:

I created more art in 2022 than I have in any other year. Now, not all of that art is worth showing to anyone...ever, but I learn something from every piece that I create and that knowledge can be carried forward to the next piece.

For most of the year, I had art hanging in local businesses. This obviously creates some exposure for me as an artist but it also gets art out of my space. I have so much stuff stacked here and there and piled everywhere, that it is just nice to get it out of the house.

I attended a few local festivals and even made a couple of sales. But, the most important thing that I learned from these festivals is that I don't need to attend these festivals.  There weren't Art Fairs but local Fall Festival type things and that just isn't a place for selling original "fine" art. 

I won a few ribbons! Nothing major but anytime a "judge" (someone that you don't know personally) awards your work any type of recognition, its a good thing. It feels good as an artist (human) and provides a little kick-in-the-britches to keep moving forward.

Things to Work On:

Although I created a lot of work in 2022, I need to get more focused on what I create in 2023. I need to spend a little more time on the "why" behind the piece and make sure that each piece has a compelling story. This may mean getting out of my studio space a little more often and experiencing some new things.

I am going to include photographic art into my creative process more in 2023. I've set photography aside over the past couple of years to focus on painting but I think I am at a place where I can bring it back out of the closet. I don't think it is good to leave a creative outlet locked away. Sometimes people get too worried about labels and get worried about what to call themselves if they paint and do photography or maybe write....and so they think they just need to do one thing. I'll just call my self and artist, if I have to call myself anything and get on with creating.

Better planning! I've already started this as I've put together a calendar of shows that I'm going to enter in my local and surrounding communities.  These aren't big shows by any stretch but they are targets to ensure I have work ready and have dates to aim for. I need to look for some bigger shows and shows a little further away as well any online shows that I may want to enter. 

Working in my sketchbooks more. I started this a few months back and if nothing else, it is fairly therapeutic. Small, quick sketches either with pencil or paint help me gather thoughts and ideas for new, bigger works. And it's really just fun. I love the feel of the sketch book and working on paper...I just need to keep this up.

Interact more. I need to make sure that I am interacting with other artists and people in the art community - both online and in person. This will build relationships and provide the opportunity to support others and get support when needed. I am an introvert but I can't let that stop me from building relationships.

So there ya go. Some things that went well and some things to work on. This is by no means an exhaustive list but I think it does hit some key points and by putting it in writing, it creates a little bit of accountability.

Happy New Year!