Well, good grief! I posted my last entry at 8:08pm, but the computer claims I posted at 7:26pm! Apparently there's something about this whole blogging service that I don't know about yet.

Well, anyway, I wanted to do a painting that would be bright and cheery, representative of the desert in the Palm Springs/Palm Desert area, and that would feature desert bighorn sheep. So-o-o-o...here it is, along with a detail that shows the bighorns a little more clearly (although they are small on the painting--less than 2"/5cm long). The view shows an area typical of what one might see when hiking in the Santa Rosa Mountains east of Palm Desert, CA. Therefore, the title is "Vista de Santa Rosa."

And, of course, I wanted to show the vast spaces one typically sees in the desert. I've heard this referred to as the "mystery of the distance." Those of us who revel in desert scenery understand that feeling very well.

If you live in, or prefer, forested areas, all that distance and "empty" space can lead to the "wasteland" approach to viewing desert landscapes. I guess it's all a question of personal taste, of developing a certain aesthetic for different kinds of beauty.

We artists tend to find beauty everywhere. Sometimes we have to work at that a little, but for all its flaws and heartbreaks, the world is a beautiful place. And you'll find it both in the forests and the deserts.

Pieces of Eights

Today is 8 August 2008, aka 8-8-08. Today is a special day for many, a day that translates to prosperity, new beginnings in married life and other symbols of what this date means. Apparently it means the most to the Chinese. Even the Olympics start today.

So in this spirit, I started a new painting today, one which will be highly reminiscent of my favorite Dutch painter, Jacob van Ruisdael (mentioned in a previous post). And I intend to post this entry at exactly 8:08 PDT (which would be 2008 hours in military time). It all works for me!

So, dear readers, whatever this day means to you (if anything), I hope it's the start of something great and amazing for you!


Posted 08-08-2008, 2008 hours

Writing About What to Write

When one is a professional artist, one must paint whether one feels like painting or even if one is not sure WHAT to paint.

It's that way with writing, too. I'm not a professional writer, although I have sold some of my writing in years past. But as with art, I'm driven (a little, in this case) to write, too.

But ideas for art come quite easily. As a landscape painter, I only have to go outside into a beautiful area (and I live in such an area) -- then I'm inspired, which gives me the energy to "go to the studio and make stuff." (I have a watchface that says that!)

It's never been that simple with writing. Once I know what to write about, I'm fine. But thinking of what to write about -- that's always been a problem for me. I always hated it when some grade-school teacher gave us a carte blanche writing assignment. Of course, we had to fulfill certain criteria, but beyond that, we had to come up with our own ideas for a subject. Sometimes I didn't think of an idea until it was almost too late to write about it.

In his book, "The Courage to Create," author Rollo May made a comment about artists "confronting their art." Confronting -- that's an apt way to describe it. Art (which includes writing, in this case) can be a leisurely pasttime, but for many of us artzy types, art is work. Maybe that's why they call this stuff "artwork." And writers "work" on their manuscripts.

Funny, tho' -- musicians play instruments! Go figure.

A Surreal Dude

I used to paint surreal scenes. In fact, I still consider it my favorite style of art IF it's well-done.

The image on the right is the second version of a piece I did for a class I was taking in the late 1980's. The assignment was to create a work based on a classical grouping or cycle; in my case, I decided upon earth, air, fire and water. At the same time, this particular image occurred to me as my wife and I were...well, uh, doing what it is husbands and wives do. (What a time to be inspired to do art!)

Thus, this image (to me anyway) represents earth (the earth-colored hand on the right), air (the blue sky), fire (obvious) and water (in the form of clouds). But (again, in my mind), I also tried to depict sexual passion, all without resorting to the obvious ways of showing this subject.

Some day I'll have to squeeze more surreal subject matter into my already overloaded schedule. But for now, I'll continue to paint landscapes with just a touch of the surreal in them.

Googling Googling

Every so often, I Google my name to see how many other Mark Junges there are. I myself come up in several contexts: my Website http://www.southwestspaces.com, a positive comment about my site on someone else's site, and a review I wrote about an art-related seminar that appears on a third site.

However, I'm not the only Mark Junge in the universe! Other MJs include:

- a motorcycle racer;
- a Wyoming writer;
- a photographer;
- a 24/7 oxygen-dependent man who bicycled across the country to prove even people with lung disease can do something like that. (Good for him!)

But so far: I'm the only Mark Junge, Artist. Let's keep it that way! =)

Anti-Art

I may have to give up television forever! Not so much because the programming is so stupid (although that's part of it, too), but because of the commercials!! Maybe it's because we live in a somewhat rural area, but it seems like there are a handful of commercials that are broadcast over and over and over...ad infinitum, ad nauseum. During the morning news programs, a certain commercial (Commercial A) will air, then a different one, then Commercial A is run again!! EVERY morning!!!

And some gal thinks we just gotta put Mercury (cars) on our list? NO!!! I don't gotta do NUTHIN! I'd rather make that female DRINK mercury!

Around here, we hear these commercials to death!! And to think--we have a limited, 'tho' large, number of brain cells. I hate the idea of them being used up and wasted on storing commercial jingles and copy! I still remember toothpaste commercials from my early childhood:

Brush-a, brush-a, brush-a
With the new Ipana,
Brush-a, brush-a, brush-a,
Ipana for your tee-eeth.

I even remember the tune this was sung to!!

What a waste of what might have been artistic genius. This is anti-art. And a depressing commentary of how we are exposed to sonic noise from birth to death--and end up being forced to remember it forever.

Breaking Storm

I mentioned last time I'm a fan of Dutch painter Jacob van Ruisdael and was working on a piece that -- in my mind, anyway -- is reminiscent of his style.

And here it is! The scene is in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, AZ, USA, looking south toward the Sonoyta Mountains of Mexico. I've shown the entire painting as well as a detail -- a Harris' hawk (a southwestern species of raptor), flying close to the ground, as they tend to do.

I didn't make the clouds shadows as dark as ol' Jake would have -- I decided to go with a more natural-looking scene -- THIS time! But this painting combines many of my favorite things about the desert: this view, organ pipe cactus, dramatic lighting, and a Harris' hawk.