Saturday, October 30, 2021

Halloween Time!!

Tomorrow night is Halloween!! While I don't go overboard with it, I do enjoy the season and reflect on the sights and experiences I had as a kid on Halloween.

Appropriately enough, I did manage to finish a couple of paintings with a Halloween theme. (If I ever complete the book I have in mind filled with end-of-the-year visions, these two will be in it!)

Ghosts     14" x 11" / 36cm x 28cm

The Morning After        8" x 10" / 20cm x 25cm

I enjoy painting seasonal images like this when the season is going on, but it's hard to get as much done as I'd like in the time that I have. I need to work on seasonal paintings when it's not the season!

So I hope you have/had a fun Halloween and then you began to reflect on the next holiday -- Thanksgiving!

Mark Junge

www.MarkJunge.com or www.SouthwestSpaces.com

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Fall in the Desert

Fall in the desert?? C'mon -- Joshua trees and saguaro cactus don't offer much in the way of autumn colors!!

But fall colors do happen in desert areas -- one just has to know where to look!

Like -- near places where there's water, or where water may collect under the surface for a while. There you may find cottonwood trees and other smaller shrubs that change in the fall or early winter months.

For example, in early-mid November, cottonwoods in the Owns Valley of California change to a bright golden yellow. No other colors, unfortunately, but they can sure add a whole new look to a desert that may otherwise appear rather drab.

Mt. Whitney                                   8" x 10" / 20cm x 25cm

For example, this is my latest painting of such an area. It shows the eastern face of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, a bit of the Alabama Hills which are just off to the right, and what I believe is a park in Lone Pine, CA. Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the continental United States, is the distant jagged mountain glowing white with snow.

I hope to paint more scenes from this special place sometime soon!

Mark Junge

www.MarkJunge.com or www.SouthwestSpaces.com



Thursday, September 23, 2021

Autumn Equinox -- at Last!!

Autumnal equinox finally arrived today (although the day's almost over as I write this). Autumn is when my world turns into a fantasy land -- fall colors, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. (Once Christmas ends, the magic seems to end, too, and the time that follows is kind of a downer).

I thought I'd celebrate the beginning of this special time by posting images of some autumn paintings by artists I greatly admire.


View of La Crescenza                             Claude Lorraine
Looks like the beginnings of fall in Rome

Nutting                                                    Thomas Moran

Autumn on the Wissahickon                     Thomas Moran

Autumn                                                     Thomas Moran

The Autumnal Woods                  Thomas Moran


Autumn                                                Frederick Edwin Church

Autumn Woods                                                  Albert Bierstadt

Cresheim Glen, Wissahickon, Autumn                      Thomas Moran


Wednesday, September 8, 2021

The Vast Spaces of the Southwest

 If you've been following me for any length of time, you may have noticed The Vast Spaces of the Southwest is my logo or tagline. And now it's also the title of my latest painting!


This is a view in Joshua Tree National Park, although I "thinned out" the Joshua trees in the foreground because I wanted the JT on the left to be the clear star of the image.

I haven't decided if I want to enter this in a local exhibition or not. The exhibition is about art that was inspired by the national park, and my painting certainly was!

But I also promised myself: no more art shows, galleries, exhibitions/competitions, stuff like that. So: we'll see.

Enjoy, and thank you for your support!

Mark Junge

www.MarkJunge.com or www.SouthwestSpaces.com


Saturday, August 28, 2021

Learning from Jill

Usually I blog about my artwork, but this time I thought I'd blog about my other passion -- science; specifically, microbiology.

I earned a Master of Science degree at California State Polytechnic University, Pomona in California. My graduate advisor was one Dr. Jill Adler-Moore who, sadly, died recently of cancer.

Her celebration of life memorial was this morning, and the comments people made about her got me to thinking about my own life, which was so deeply impacted by Jill.

Dr. Jill Adler-Moore

Jill was an energetic, hard-working positive person who doubled as a cheerleader and friend to many of her students, including me. Her own passion for science and research rubbed off on everyone who worked with her, and I never realized how much of my scientific thinking came from her.

I know I can be quite intense when discussing scientific matters and I ask a lot of questions, something one learns to do in grad school. I'm the stereotypical skeptic when it comes to science topics and especially when it comes to microbiology. Many people who are not scientists don't understand this is how science works, and they easily believe what they hear about topics -- for example, immunology and the Covid-19 vaccines -- from the mass media.

I've learned that most people don't think like scientists. And it's frustrating to try and discuss things with them. But I'm grateful Jill taught me to pursue answers and seek the truth as best as we can perceive it.

Jill also taught me that failure is not necessarily a bad thing, because we're more likely to learn from our failures more than we would from our successes where we may not learn anything new at all.

The labs/jobs I worked at following grad school don't, of course often see it that way. In a way, working in real life was kind of a let-down after working with Jill in grad school.

In short, Jill changed my life! My life is better for having known her and worked with her. We stayed in touch after I finished grad school and often met for lunch when we discussed -- what else? -- scientific advancements.

By the way, Jill pioneered a treatment for systemic fungal infections by incorporating the highly toxic antifungal drug Amphotericin B into microscopic fat bubbles called liposomes. When the drug is packaged this way, it greatly reduces the toxic effects of the drug, a higher dose of the drug can be given and the patient is spared the chemotherapy-like side effects of Amphotericin B. A similar approach is being being developed for anticancer drugs.

Jill was a mentor, teacher and a good friend. As Jill's husband said at the memorial service: "We are all diminished by our loss." I totally agree.

RIP, Jill.

Friday, August 6, 2021

Irwindale

Remember that old song about the lazy hazy crazy days of summer? Well, for me, it's mostly been about lazy! Good grief!! It seems like all I want to do these days is nuthin!! Maybe mess around on my laptop, but that's about it!

Well -- at least I did manage to get a painting done last month -- a small (8" x 10" / 20cm x 25cm) landscape of a place called Irwindale, which is also the title of the piece:


Irwindale isn't in the desert, but it's close enough to a desert-y look to suit me. It's east of Pasadena, CA which is east of Los Angeles. It's an area where lots of these yuccas (pronounced "yuck-ah", Hesperoyucca whipplei), also known as the Lord's Candle, bloom in mid-June if southern California had enough rain during the winter months -- a rare commodity these days.

I live about a two-hour's drive from here, so I rarely get to see this view anymore, assuming the yuccas survived the scant rainfall they've gotten over the years of drought. I hope they're still there -- I'd like to see them again.

Mark Junge

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Advancing Time

 


Advancing Time is my latest (surrealism) painting. It's essentially a redo of the very first serious painting I did: men seemingly running from a clock that is chasing them as the sun goes down. The size is 8" x 10" / 20cm x 25cm.

What does it mean?? Not really sure -- I'm sure something bad is in those runners' futures if/when the clock catches up with them. Maybe it has something to do with our futures as well.

I'll admit I'm concerned about our future and the future of our country. Perhaps the painting is simply an expression of concerns I have and the ominous evil just beyond the horizon. Something's coming, and it ain't good.

But for now, enjoy the time we have, and look for the beauty in our lives.

Mark Junge

www.MarkJunge.com or www.SouthwestSpaces.com