Work

It's time to get out the sweaters, 25 tonight. Leaves were crunchy with frost; by noon they had wilted into wet socks. interized the house today, planted bulbs and worked on another coat on my choctaw painting. It looks better already. My hope for winter is that I will get extra time to paint. Our 2.5 acres will be put to rest and I will have extra time to focus on just becoming better.

This painting is 3/4 feet, apprx. It is based on a map of the Persian Gulf. The blue spots are the oil and gas fields. It is an inspired piece not an exactly copied. The first layers are spray paint, enamels and polyurethane. The fields are oil

I am on a deadline to finish a home portrait for a open house gift. This painting will be smaller than what I normally work on which is at least 24/30. Since it is a gift I don't need to spend too much on paint and supplies.

I am itching to create another poured painting. They are a release from working for others. I love how they grow quietly inside until one day serendipity. The paints do according to my sub-concsious and create colors and movement that you only see in water or space. My real love is these poured pieces, with every layer they change. I feel I am freezing a moment of some movement. I need an audience though and I still haven't found the group that will get my work. This copying is not ultimately what I am meant for. I know I have a voice and it continues to say: "Look closer"

"Night" 24/48" I painted this after my show in New York. I'm sure it was influenced by the power of the city.

It was

It's for sale: 600.00

The Choctaw

I met the Choctaw! Calm, kind eyes, they are incredible. This weekend I had the opportunity to meet a stallion and foals. I am excited about this project.

Do you have to be a horse person to appreciate these creatures? I don't think so. The lines and colors of these horses are not matched anywhere, but they carry the same value as anything of beauty.

There beauty is hindered and about to become extinguished. From what I am told, there are only around 250 left in the world! What an honor to be able to paint such a rare creature.

A Typical Day

It's dark outside when I wake up. I slip on a sweatshirt before I get out of my cocoon. The cold irritates me. Breakfast is started children gently arosed from dreams. Eggs fried, eaten, table cleared and wiped. The cold is bracing at first, gradually the car thaws and we are a ball of heat barreling through fog to get to football practice. Cows dip lazy eyes into the layers of fog, emerging with the same breakfast everyday. Kisses and Goodbyes.--- The sun is awake and ready to lift the fog. When I get home I make the bed, sweep up Pyrenees hair and begin to settle into my new painting. I believed it was finished, but living next to my easel has forced me to look longer and harder. There are a few sections of the sky I think need smoother paint. This series is based on photos taken at night; homes aglow with human activity. Homes are appreciated at night. It is the only time we are together. In this particular painting ("The Farm") the house is empty, a mud room is illuminated, no boots or umbrellas. One window to the right is lit up with a basketball net. It has a mystery to it, dark around the house and evidence of what once happened.


My Choctaw horse needs another coat. I believe I can make it even stronger. There are a few areas that seem off, ---just slightly.


I paint until about noon. I sprint through the neighborhood, fending of loose dogs, and paying attention to the moment by moment changes of autumn. Running is a forced activity that feels so good I wonder why I hate doing it.











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