Chi

"Chi" (18" x 36")

"Chi" (18" x 36")

Beginning an abstract art piece, is very different than beginning a landscape art piece in that I never, ever know what it will look like when complete. But I am learning that an abstract art painting will "tell me" when it's done. It's really great therapy -- divorcing ones mind from forced structure and let the structure of the painting form alongside the randomness of it. The place a landscape painting comes from is concrete most of the time: a picture either in my head or from a photo, usually of a western North Carolina or Asheville scene. But an abstract art piece comes from inside.

There is a short essay by Rainer Rilke I'd like to share. It's beautiful, and though written originally with the writing of prose or poetry, it applies so well to creating any art, and definitely applies to creating abstract art...

“Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.

This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple “I must,” then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse. Then come close to Nature. Then, as if no one had ever tried before, try to say what you see and feel and love and lose...

...Describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty - describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember. If your everyday life seems poor, don’t blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is not poverty and no poor, indifferent place. And even if you found yourself in some prison, whose walls let in none of the world’s sounds – wouldn’t you still have your childhood, that jewel beyond all price, that treasure house of memories? Turn your attentions to it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes by, far in the distance. - And if out of this turning-within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not. Nor will you try to interest magazines in these works: for you will see them as your dear natural possession, a piece of your life, a voice from it. A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it.”
  

Process: Rocky Mountain Commission

I love working large. Large artwork is commanding. Whether it’s intended as entrance art to grab you as soon as you enter a house or just a large wall piece, a sizable painting is artwork on a grand scale. I am currently working on a large commissioned art project for some nice folks in Austin, TX. The composition is triptych, and is based on a scene of the Rocky mountains -- mountains and birch trees reflecting in a lake. I just finished applying the metallic leaf to the textured surfaces of the panels yesterday and I was ready to go home -- turned off the lights and went to the back of the studio to get my keys, and when I turned around, I saw the panels reflecting back the late afternoon sunlight and I had to get a photo. Sorry. I get excited about stuff like this. One day, I'll have to just do a painting with no paint at all -- just metal covered with resin. I think that would be cool. Anyway, this one is ready for paint now, and by the end of the day, I'll have that first layer of paint applied. 

Sometimes, when I get into a piece, it's cool to explore the background story. This scene from Glacier National Park required just a bit of research so that I'm not just painting a painting, but I'm depicting a place. I want to capture the "spirit" of that place. Throughout time, people have sought out Glacier National Park's rugged peaks, clear waters, and glacial-carved valleys; its landscape giving both desired resources and inspiration to those persistent enough to venture through it. Evidence of human use in this area dates back to over 10,000 years. By the time the first European explorers came into this region, several different tribes inhabited the area. The Blackfeet Indians controlled the vast prairies east of the mountains, while the Salish and Kootenai Indians lived in the western valleys, traveling over the mountains in search of game and to hunt the great herds of buffalo on the eastern plains.

The majority of early European explorers came to this area in search of beaver and other pelts. They were soon followed by miners and, eventually, settlers looking for land. By 1891, the completion of the Great Northern Railway sealed the area’s fate, allowing a greater number of people to enter into the heart of northwest Montana. Homesteaders settled in the valleys west of Marias Pass and soon small towns developed.

Around the turn of the century, people started to look at the land differently. For some, this place held more than minerals to mine or land to farm…they began to recognize that the area had a unique scenic beauty all to its own.

By the late 1800s, influential leaders like George Bird Grinnell, pushed for the creation of a national park. In 1910, Grinnell and others saw their efforts rewarded when President Taft signed the bill establishing Glacier as the country's 10th national park.

This painting has a way to go before completion, but I love the process: texture, aluminum leaf, paint and finish. More to come on this one...

"Summer Path Thru the Birch Trees"

Already Longing for Summer

Introducing...."Summer Path Thru the Birch Trees" (18" x 24") This was a revisiting of an older oil painting I did a couple years ago. This time, I went smaller and added more texture and trees. And rather than finished with a thick glossy coat of resin, I finished it with a softer, more subtle finish (satin varnish) which seals it all but still leaves all the texture visible. This composition reminds me of an awesome summer back when I was a young teenager. My brother had a best friend who had a family cabin and many, many acres of property on the north shore of Francois Lake in northern British Columbia, Canada. The deal was that he would spend a couple months there on the lake, and then we (my mom, dad and sister) would come visit for several days and pick him up. We meandered up the Pacific Coast Highway, visited my uncle on Bainbridge Island just off the coast from Seattle, crossed into Canada at Vancouver and drove north up the Fraser River Valley toward Francois Lake.

Francois Lake was a remote and awesome finger lake, very deep and very clear. The water was so pure that the locals had to ADD minerals to it so they could drink it and still get the minerals they needed to be healthy. Crazy. And the old farm (complete with rustic log house and cool old barns) was amazing. I'd never seen a place like it before. The old dirt roads and fields were mostly overgrown (it had been a while since it was a real working farm) but I clearly remember exploring along the road to the upper field, birch trees and wild flowers surrounding me everywhere. The sound of birch trees in the wind is unforgettable. 

Anyway, I can't paint a landscape featuring birch trees and not remember that spectacular summer holiday. We've since visited Canada many times (from coast to coast) and never tire of the spectacular beauty of that place.

 

 

"Daybreak"

Light in the Darkness

"Daybreak in the Pines" (22" x 14") Here's the latest oil painting to roll off the line -- and you'll notice it's NOT a winter scene. I'm dreaming of summer landscapes already. This does not bode well for my sanity over the next couple months but dreaming of and painting scenes reminiscent of places here in North Carolina I hike with my wife Joy over the summer months -- that helps take the edge of 8 degree lows. :p

"Daybreak in the Pines" (22" x 14")

"Daybreak in the Pines" (22" x 14")

The West Wind
by William Cullen Bryant

Beneath the forest's skirts I rest,
Whose branching pines rise dark and high,
And hear the breezes of the West
Among the threaded foliage sigh.

Sweet Zephyr! why that sound of wo?
Is not thy home among the flowers?
Do not the bright June roses blow,
To meet thy kiss at morning hours?

And lo! thy glorious realm outspread--
Yon stretching valleys, green and gay,
And yon free hilltops, o'er whose head
The loose white clouds are borne away.

And there the full broad river runs,
And many a fount wells fresh and sweet,
To cool thee when the mid-day suns
Have made thee faint beneath their heat.

Thou wind of joy, and youth, and love;
Spirit of the new wakened year!
The sun in his blue realm above
Smooths a bright path when thou art here.

In lawns the murmuring bee is heard,
The wooing ring-dove in the shade;
On thy soft breath, the new-fledged bird
Takes wing, half happy, half afraid.

Ah! thou art like our wayward race;--
When not a shade of pain or ill
Dims the bright smile of Nature's face,
Thou lov'st to sigh and murmur still.

Revisiting a friend

Water and Light

"Morning on the Sound" (24" x 12"). When I create wall art, I sometimes start by experimenting with a brand new idea for the piece. Other times, I revisit an older idea I've already completed but look for ways to create a new oil painting that is both like and unlike the original (hey, Monet did that all the time). "Morning on the Sound" was such an effort. I did a painting similar to this composition awhile back and really enjoyed it -- but the scene depicted was of a coastline on a misty morning. This time, I wanted to go back to the same basic idea but...I've sent a strong east wind and blew the fog away.

"Morning on the Sound" (24" x 12")

"Morning on the Sound" (24" x 12")

The Trial Run

"Rainbow Falls" (18" x 24")

"Rainbow Falls" (18" x 24")

Waterfalls

I'm about ready now to apply aluminum leaf to my largest painting to date: Cullasaja Falls, and it occurred to me it would be a really good idea to practice on another waterfall so that I get this down. I don't want to "experiment" on this big one (it's just too large a statement piece to practice on and maybe mess up). So I chose one of my favorite waterfalls around here (about 45 minutes from my studio) and definitely one of the local landmarks. So I experimented on a much safer size (18" x 24") and I am REALLY happy with the way this one turned out and yep...I feel ready to tackle the big one now. 

Asheville Channel Interview

Asheville Channel Interview

Last week, and again yesterday, some really nice folks from the Asheville Channel came out to my studio for an interview (so I tried to sound like I was super interesting) and to take photos and video. So if you're interested in my work, or interested in practically anything to do with Asheville, check out the Asheville Channel: https://ashevillechannel.com/blog/st-claire-studio/. And...thanks Mario! You're team is awesome!

"Big Mamma" begins to sing....

Sealing of "Cullasaja Falls" 

Attention Please

My son Gerin and I hauled my painting "Cullasaja Falls" (affectionately known as "Big Mamma") across the street to do the final sanding and sealing (seen here). Now, the composition is complete and it's ready for the application of aluminum leaf. This painting is begging to be a major statement piece or entrance art (eventually) and it's been exciting seeing it beginning to "come to life" and I can't wait to begin the color application. More to come...

An Experiment with Moonlight

"Moonlight Sonata"

"Moonlight Sonata"

By the Light of the Silvery Moon

"Moonlight Sonata" was a bit of an experiment in that I don't usually paint a "moonlit" scene, mostly because I don't want the overall tone is too dark (simply because for my paintings to work, I need light being able to reflect off the aluminum leaf background and back through the paint I've applied. So for this painting to work, I had to play with the darkness of the color, the thickness of the paint, and the judicious placement of white paint (the most opaque paint I use). The result honestly is what I saw in my head, so I'm really happy with the piece. Three cheers for experimentation!

Transfiguration

"Transfiguration"

"Transfiguration"

The concept of visibly morphing from what you appear to what you really are...that is to transfigure. That is the concept that led to the creation of this painting. 

The Transfiguration (by Edwin Muir)

So from the ground we felt that virtue branch
Through all our veins till we were whole, our wrists
As fresh and pure as water from a well,
Our hands made new to handle holy things,
The source of all our seeing rinsed and cleansed
Till earth and light and water entering there
Gave back to us the clear unfallen world.
We would have thrown our clothes away for lightness,
But that even they, though sour and travel stained,
Seemed, like our flesh, made of immortal substance,
And the soiled flax and wool lay light upon us
Like friendly wonders, flower and flock entwined
As in a morning field. Was it a vision?
Or did we see that day the unseeable
One glory of the everlasting world
Perpetually at work, though never seen
Since Eden locked the gate that’s everywhere
And nowhere? Was the change in us alone,
And the enormous earth still left forlorn,
An exile or a prisoner? Yet the world
We saw that day made this unreal, for all
Was in its place. The painted animals
Assembled there in gentle congregations,
Or sought apart their leafy oratories,
Or walked in peace, the wild and tame together,
As if, also for them, the day had come.
The shepherds’ hovels shone, for underneath
The soot we saw the stone clean at the heart
As on the starting-day. The refuse heaps
Were grained with that fine dust that made the world;
For he had said, ‘To the pure all things are pure.’
And when we went into the town, he with us,
The lurkers under doorways, murderers,
With rags tied round their feet for silence, came
Out of themselves to us and were with us,
And those who hide within the labyrinth
Of their own loneliness and greatness came,
And those entangled in their own devices,
The silent and the garrulous liars, all
Stepped out of their dungeons and were free.
Reality or vision, this we have seen.
If it had lasted but another moment
It might have held for ever! But the world
Rolled back into its place, and we are here,
And all that radiant kingdom lies forlorn,
As if it had never stirred; no human voice
Is heard among its meadows, but it speaks
To itself alone, alone it flowers and shines
And blossoms for itself while time runs on.


But he will come again, it’s said, though not
Unwanted and unsummoned; for all things,
Beasts of the field, and woods, and rocks, and seas,
And all mankind from end to end of the earth
Will call him with one voice. In our own time,
Some say, or at a time when time is ripe.
Then he will come, Christ the uncrucified,
Christ the discrucified, his death undone,
His agony unmade, his cross dismantled—
Glad to be so—and the tormented wood
Will cure its hurt and grow into a tree
In a green springing corner of young Eden,
And Judas damned take his long journey backward
From darkness into light and be a child
Beside his mother’s knee, and the betrayal
Be quite undone and never more be done.