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4"x6" oil on masonite panel ••• I do not know the flavor of this Jolly Rancher, it was not in my
possession long enough to commit it to memory. You see, I was forced to
steal this piece of candy from my own offspring. Yes, forced. •
In an attempt to help organize my disaster zone of a studio, The
Spousal Unit took it upon Herself to collect all of my "painting" candy
into one container. I admit, the subjects-in-waiting were somewhat
strewn all over the place. She chose a plain brown paper bag as the
vessel and She even wrote "Art Candy" on it. Not only did I not know
that The Goddess did this wonderful thing, I also didn't know that—for
some unknown reason—She took the bag into the house. •
The time came for me, as it eventually does, to paint a piece of candy.
Not finding any in my studio, I may have panicked a bit. Now on the hunt for candy, I went into the house and immediately noticed that Spawn Number One had just emptied his pockets
onto the counter and there it was... the Jolly Rancher. A little
diversion (probably something like, "Look, a chicken!") combined with
some quick five-finger action and voila... here's a painting of it. •
It was soon stolen back and I don't blame the little demon. Their
translucency makes them a challenge to paint, but Jolly Ranchers sure
taste good.
Posted September 24, 2015
sold • private collection, los angeles, ca
4"x6" oil on masonite panel ••• This is the last of the mid century Zenith tube radio paintings I have
for you. That does not mean that I will not paint more. It just means it will be the last for at least a good chunk of time (if
ever), and that you have won a well-earned reprieve from my torturing
you with them. • It looks like I have painted five Zeniths—that might be enough for this artist. (Evidence: See the little Zeniths above.)
Posted September 17, 2015
sold • private collection hays, ks
4"x6" oil on masonite panel ••• Some things are more challenging (read:
hard) to paint than other things. Many cars fall into this somewhat
annoying category. There is just so much going on with the beasts and
their unique forms, reflections, lines, ovals, etc.—you name it and it's
there to drive an artist nuts. Okay, now imagine what I just described
and then hacking it, chopping it, and, in some instances, completely
removing whole sections of the car exposing the intricate mechanics of
the machine. The result is a hot rod, the insane manifestation of
someone's love for a vehicle and a penchant for hiding in the garage
from their family. • Even when I was a
wee sprout, I preferred returning cars to their stock, intended forms
and like new(ish) condition. This makes me a "stock" kind of guy. But
over the years I have developed an appreciation for hot rods. You cannot
meet a hot rod person and not become infected by their love for their
car and the process that led to their personalized piece of art. For
that is what they are: Art. • The above painting was a heckuva challenge and that is probably why I did it. That and insanity.
Posted September 11, 2015
32"x16" oil on canvas ••• I love this drill! • It's in great
shape, has great balance, great colors, and you can store your bits in
the handle! I mean... how cool is that? You see that thingy on the top
of the handle? It unscrews revealing a secret compartment. Actually,
it's not so secret, it was not uncommon for these drills to have a
storage compartment in the handle, but I still thinks it's cool. • Yes, I have an unhealthy love of (good) tools. It's a disease I like having AND it requires no penicillin. •
This piece creeps up on being almost 3 feet tall and is in a 2-to-1
ratio, which is somewhat unusual for me. I might do more in this
format, but honestly, it has less to do with what I want, than it does with what
the piece calls for. As the Great Mongo once said, "Mongo only pawn... in
game of life." Me too, buddy, me too.
Posted September 8, 2015
4"x6" oil on masonite panel ••• I have often been asked how I do what I do, mainly by students. It's a
vague question, but sometimes the queries are specific to my color
and/or brush/knife work. Flummoxed, I may reply, "How does one teach
insanity." (I know, I know, it's a cop out. But seriously, how do you
teach it?) • Not knowing what to say,
I sometimes proffer this nugget: Stop asking your mother what she
thinks of your art. While the artist usually thinks that their mother's
response of "nice" is a trite critique of their creative genius and
feels hurt that she doesn't take their art seriously, I view it as sheer
and utter rudeness to the mother. Do not put the women, who
unconditionally loves you—if you are lucky—on the spot like that. What
the heck do you expect her to say? While you're looking for words like
"deep understanding," "complex color work," or "contextual
juxtaposition" she'll deflect with "nice." What do you expect? You've
cornered a person who has no idea what you are trying to achieve and
truly, truly does not want to hurt our feelings. •
Unless she teaches the subject or worked on the piece with you, don't
ask. Instead, show some love and respect. Ask her about her day.
Patiently listen to her complain about her uncooperative computer and
for goodness' sake, please try to find a tactful and loving way to
suggest she back off on the Diet Coke. •
This applies to all the creative fields by the way. If you are an art
director and you ask your mother what she thinks of your ads, you should
be flogged, too. • Anyway... to sum up... Don't be rude to your mother!
Posted September 3, 2015
sold • private collection, los angeles, ca
4"x6" oil on masonite panel ••• Many moons ago, in one of my previous lives in New York City, I stopped
to talk to a sidewalk t-shirt vendor. I wasn't looking for a t-shirt, I
just had a habit back then of stopping and talking to the sidewalk
vendors. (Hey, in a city where you could encounter a guy on the sidewalk
selling fine Italian silk ties for $2, the vendors usually had
something interesting to say.) Anyway, the t-shirt guy had a shirt with a
black and white image of a .38 pistol, like the one you see here, along with
the elegantly typeset words: "New York City / STANDARD EQUIPMENT."
Another shirt in the antagonistically proud series had an image of an 11
inch cockroach with: "New York City / ACTUAL SIZE." Now, that is civic pride! • As indicated above, I do commissions. If you are interested, just contact me and we'll talk.
Posted September 1, 2015
sold•commission•private collection
