During the Aftermath

I wasn't sure how I would continue making paintings during the aftermath of getting my P/T teaching job. But I've found that while I'm not working on art as hard, I'm making art that I might never have gotten around to if I tried to continue making money exclusively with my paintings.

It's actually nice not to have that pressure, especially considering art just isn't selling around here. My gallery hasn't sold anything of mine for almost a year, and it sounds like his sales are pretty low overall these days.

Meanwhile, other artists have suggested using this time of financial recession/depression to try new things. Then, if/when things get better, I'll be positioned to move forward with awesome work that I could complete without the pressure of cranking out artwork that may not be my best.

So, during the aftermath, what painting I've done is some of my best ever. In addition, I'm convinced staying focused on desert-themed paintings is probably not the best way to go. I don't think the market for desert landscapes is that big anymore.

Expect to see lots of non-desert items appearing on this site. The aftermath appears to be a good thing for my paintings!

The Vast Spaces

Yesterday I spent the day in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, which is northeast of the Palm Springs area. I had two items on the agenda: look for wildflowers, and visit an art show that I've done myself a number of times.

Flowers -- well, not as many as I was hoping for, but there were a few spots with color (as well as other petal peepers!):



The art show was fun. Many of the people I've met over the years have been other art show folks, and often the only times I see them are at art shows. And since I wasn't set up there trying to sell paintings, I was free to roam around, visit friends and do some serious catching up and networking.

By the time I left, the sun was getting low in the western sky, and I passed the spot in the Park that beautifully illustrates my tagline: The Vast Spaces of the Southwest.



In late afternoon, the textures of the distant mountains, the miles of open landscape peppered with ocotillo display much of what I love about the special places called the desert. I've never seen this area colored with the blooms of spring, but the spaces say all that needs to be said. Black-and-white infrared was more than enough to archive the moment and the feeling.

LQAF

"LQAF" stands for the "La Quinta Arts Festival." (La Quinta is a town east of Palm Springs, CA). The Festival is going on this weekend and is generally considered a good show for artists to be in. It's located in a high-income area and sales are often good for the artists. The economy has hit this show as it has others, and I'm not sure where it rates today compared to other shows.

The Palm Springs newspaper featured an online photo gallery of the show, and the CBS affiliate broadcast a story on the LQAF. As you might note from the images, the art one sees there does NOT look anything like the traditional paintings I make (see my Website). This is one of the reasons I don't enter shows like this anymore -- I don't fit into these contemporary art festivals.

And in the case of the LQAF, I have other, more personal reasons why I won't enter, or even pay to visit, this particular show. In fact, I know a number of artists who feel the same way -- we have the same axes to grind, I suppose. I can't say how many of us have already burned bridges with the Festival folks.

Still, for the locals, it's relatively inexpensive entertainment and (hopefully) OK profit for the artists who are showing there.

Good luck to all.

The Creation of "First Light: Yosemite Valley"

"First Light: Yosemite Valley" is one of the few paintings I've done of Yosemite National Park -- so far. Yosemite is one of those places that has been painted and photographed to death, and trying to come up with an original concept just ain't easy!

But one June when we were camping in Wawona Campground, it occurred to me that the sun would rise somewhere behind those distant monoliths of granite. I wanted to get out to Tunnel View at dawn so I could see what the Valley looked like.

So one morning, I awoke when the sky was just starting to get light. I crawled out of the tent and raced like a madman (well, everything I do is done like a madman!) to the parking lot on the valley side of the tunnel and set up the camera and tripod.

I wasn't disappointed after making the effort. I was set up for picture-taking when the scene almost looked like the painting: the sun was barely clearing El Capitan (I painted the sun as it appeared a few minutes later) and was projecting a narrow beam of golden light through the valley floor.

The photographs didn't accurately show the place as it looked -- the shortcomings of photography rendered much of the valley very darkly except for the distant Half Dome and beyond. But the light beam was there, so the photo helped me remember what I saw. I was able to fill in the details with pictures I took with "normal" lighting, and thus was able to accomplish one of those tasks that is completely unsuited to photography -- I could get past the limitations of film and show Yosemite Valley as it actually looked early on a June morning, featuring the magic of the rising sun on a magical place.

At Long Last -- A New Painting!

It's taken a while -- chipping away at it for an hour or an hour and a half, but it's finally done:

A painting I started in early January!

I logged approximately 40 hours of painting time on it, so in theory, I should have been able to start and finish this piece in a week. But, with the teaching gig, it took a little longer than that.

Not that I'm complaining about my P/T job as a microbiology instructor at Copper Mountain College here in the high desert. It's nice to have an income! (Unfortunately, I have to consider the art market here dead for the time being). But frankly, it's nice to have this painting over and done with, as well.


This scene is of Balboa Park in San Diego, CA; size is 11" x 14" / 28cm x 36cmcm.

Maybe Tomorrow?

I had hoped to finish a painting I started in early January. But the new teaching job has pulled me away from painting (not that I'm complaining about having that job!), and even when I'm not involved in doing that, sometimes I'm too #$%&@ tired to paint! (I'm getting old, I guess; in fact, I've been old for a long LONG time now!) =)

One more good day of painting otta do it! This piece is the type that takes me a little longer to do: buildings/architectural features, with people walking around. At least the people will be pretty much distant, but they still need to look SOMEthing like human beans!

Well, maybe I can finish the thing tomorrow. I'm ready for it to be done -- I've got other ideas in my head waiting to stumble out and come to life on canvas.

Church Art in the Greek Tradition

Yesterday The Wiffee and I attended a Greek Festival in Palm Desert, CA. Festivals like this are always fun, but for us, the crowning jewel was the interior of the church that sponsored the Festival.


The church is St. George Greek Orthodox Church of the Desert. Most of the artwork ("icons") were in the form of mosaic, with gold tiles filling in where goldleaf would go on paintings. While I normally am not a huge fan of Byzantine/medieval-styles of art, I'll have to admit the art of this church was beautiful without being garrish. The interior was colorful and warm, and even as visitors, it felt comfortable being inside the church. And we're not of Greek descent or even Orthodox!

I've read that God gave us the ability to appreciate beauty and, therefore, to appreciate His beauty. If there are any readers out there who design church interiors, or if you're a church board member looking for ways to honor God with some of the beauty He created -- take note!