Three Exhibits

I was juried into the show in San Diego! It's hard to believe, but now I have works in three different shows and locations:

• Gallery 21, Spanish Village in Balboa Park, San Diego, CA, April 2-13, 2009;
• Hi-Desert Nature Museum, Yucca Valley, CA, ; March 7 - April 25, 2009;
• Twentynine Palms Art Gallery, Twentynine Palms, CA, March 30 - April 28, 2009.

All paintings in these shows are, of course, desert paintings. It'll be interesting to see how desert paintings go over in a seaside community.

The paintings in the San Diego show are featured above. So if you're in any of these areas within the dates I mentioned, stop by and have a look. If you have any questions, please feel free to e-mail me through my Website at http://www.southwestspaces.com.

Paintings That Are Not the Desert

My older brother is on the mend, our oldest brother is staying with him to make sure the older brother continues to mend, and I have a little time to think about art again.

Tomorrow I'm off to San Diego to enter a couple of desert paintings in a show in Balboa Park. If the pieces are accepted by the jury, I'll post the info (and pix of the paintings) here.

But in the meantime, I'm sure you were wondering about the paintings I do that are NOT desert-themed.

Here's one. It's of Yosemite Valley as the sun is rising.

I loved the way the sun lit up just a narrow strip of trees while most of the Valley remained in shadow. As the sun continued to rise, more and more of the Valley flooded with light, and the special moment was gone -- until the next sunrise.

A Little Slow These Days

Art production has been a little slow these days.

I mentioned before that one of my brothers went in for a quadruple cardiac bypass operation last Monday. He's still in the hospital and will be there at least until Sunday. Thankfully the other brother is flying down from Washington and will be the 24/7 helper.

It's a 90-minute drive each way to get to where he is (if there's no traffic), so between a three-hour roundtrip drive, visiting him and going by his home to feed the kitty and take care of a few things, I haven't had much time to work on any aspect of art.

Which is unfortunate, since surviving in this economy is already more than a fulltime job.

So for now, I'll settle for mentioning the URLs (including the alternate URL) for my Website: southwestspaces.com and desert-paintings.com. I've made some minor updates to the site, but I'm looking forward to adding new works and making some other changes I have in mind.

I also plan to paint other types of landscapes, including the mountains of Colorado, the California coast, and the forests of New England and the redwoods of California. These works will be for people who may not appreciate the desert as much as I do, and it happens I love those areas, too!

Stay tuned. Good things are coming!

Desert Flowers

While many parts of the country are still in the throes of winter (some friends in Colorado are looking forward to being snowed in soon), it's springtime in the desert!

We didn't get as much rain as in previous years, so the flowers are not as numerous as I've shown here. This is how it looked LAST year. No augmentation was needed!

This view is near the southern entrance to Joshua Tree National Park, CA.

The Living Desert Continues to Live

I've mentioned the Living Desert before. It's a desert-themed botanical and zoological park (located in Palm Desert, CA) that also promotes conservation of desert resources.

The Living Desert held a fund-raising event on Sunday night that featured a silent auction. Since the Living Desert is one of my favorite places (and would be my favorite charitable organization if I had the means to contribute!), I donated a painting to the auction.

And it sold! The Living Desert received the amount I would have gotten if the piece had sold through the gallery. Plus, the gallery owner was present to talk up the painting and his gallery to some well-off people.

Let's hope good things come of this, but better yet -- the Living Desert has just a little more funding because of the donation. I'm glad I became involved this way. Maybe this will help save some desert critter or flower. The Living Desert, and the living desert, continue to live!

Sheep May Safely Graze

Here, finally, is a photo of the finished painting (with photo taken under more even lighting and with a higher quality camera), along with a detail. Because I have desert bighorn sheep in the image, I did go ahead and titled it after Bach's Sheep May Safely Graze. The piece is available here.

By now, it's almost old news that Natasha Richardson died a few days ago. Also, one of my two brothers went to the ER on Thursday complaining of chest pain. It turns out he'll be getting a triple bypass operation Monday morning, and afterwards he'll need attention for an additional three weeks. We're not sure how we're going to do that, since he lives by himself, doesn't have close friends who could help him (he's a confirmed hermit-type), his home is a 90-minute drive away (and we have a vehicle with 359,000 miles on it), and I'm not retired. He could move in with us, but we'd have to see if the follow-up nurse who needs to check him every day would come out here, or if we'd be able to get a local nurse to do it under his insurance plan.

But all of this reminds me of what I wrote the last time re: live but be careful. I guess I need to revise that a little. Give life your best shot. Don't be stupid about stuff (i.e., eat right), but we really don't know how much time we have or what time bombs exist in our own bodies. If you want to do something, do it NOW. You may not have tomorrow, and if you think you want to do it but you're not sure, it means you really WANT to do it; therefore, you should.

One of my favorite quotes (thanks to M. Downs, a features writer for a local newspaper), repeated: "Sail forth - steer for the deep waters only, Reckless O soul, exploring, I with thee and thou with me, For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go, And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all." - Walt Whitman

Natasha Richardson

By now we've probably all heard the tragic news about actor Natasha Richardson who suffered what seemed to be a minor head injury but is now in critical condition. Comments like "braindead" have been thrown around, but at this time, details about her condition are a little sketchy.

One theory I've heard claims that Natasha may have a kind of pre-existing condition that led to a weakness in the blood vessels in her brain, such that although her accident was fairly minor, it was enough to initiate major trauma. She wasn't wearing a helmet as she was traveling down the "bunny slope," but apparently, it wouldn't have helped in her case.

The scary part is: this could happen to anyone. Myself, included.

The Bible has a verse about how we are "fearfully and wonderfully made." That's certainly true, but I would add one additional thought: we are also incredibly fragile. We don't seem to be built to take physical punishment at all, especially compared to many animals (for example, other primates) who easily endure actions that would be quite damaging, or lethal, to us.

Life is short, and seemingly incidental accidents can shorten life even more. Make the most of life, but be careful at the same time.

(Picture is a still from the movie, Waking Up in Reno, from natasha-richardson.org).

Sheep May Safely Graze

Well, OK, I won't wait anymore. I'm posting a "quick and dirty" (as opposed to an extremely high-quality) photo of the "Paint-In" painting. That I still haven't titled yet.

I'm considering the title of a J.S. Bach composition: Sheep May Safely Graze, since five bighorn sheep inhabit the desert view. What do YOU think?

More IR

I varnished the "Paint-In" painting today but still haven't photographed it. That might be Tuesday or Wednesday night. But I'll take it to the gallery on Friday, so I can't wait too long to get some high-quality pix of it and some others I haven't photographed yet.

So-o-o-o...here's another infrared photo I took in Joshua Tree National Park last Saturday. I partly wanted to shoot more IR images and partly wanted to see how the spring flowers were coming along. Sad to say, the flowers are pretty sparse this year. It seemed like we had lots of rain, but apparently it was scattered -- heavy in places, light or nonexistant in others.

Under the circumstances, black-and-white photography was quite appropriate.

Back to the painting: does N-E-1 have any ideas for a title for it at this point?

A Local Show

I finally finished the Paint-In painting today, but I want to wait until I get a high-quality photo of the piece for posting.

So as an alternative, our local nature museum is having a show of two styles of art: one is devoted to artwork that shows, in some way, the flowers of the desert. The other consists of assemblages of recycled items. All of this is scheduled to run through Earth Day next month.

As you might suspect, I entered two paintings with desert flowers in them. Here I am at the reception with two of the museum female employees (good thing we're all on good terms: The Wiffee took the pictures!) in front of one painting, and I'm pointing to a small painting as an artist friend looks on. (Funny how the camera makes it look like my hair is thinning!)

Almost

I thought I'd be finished with the Paint-In painting by now, but I had to re-work a few elements.

As you can see in the picture on the left, I added five bighorn sheep to the painting. I think they turned out OK (although it's actually harder for me to paint small images of critters than it is to paint larger ones). That is, until I realized I painted them a little TOO small compared to the ocotillo on the top of the hill at left and the creosote bush that's below it. Those made the bighorns look like miniatures!

So I "pruned" the ocotillo and bush (compare with the picture on the right), touched up the sky somewhat, which is not yet finished. Today I hope to downsize the ocotillo, and I already took care of the creosote bush.

So hopefully my NEXT picture of the painting will show it finished!

Full Color Vs. Infrared

Today I had business to take care of in Palm Desert, and I visited the area that I'm currently painting -- you may recognize the "Paint-In" view even with the minor changes I've made. I was looking for some different angles than those I've already photographed, and I also wanted to make some infrared pictures in addition to the full-color pix.

It's hard to describe the excitement I feel at how easy it is to do what I've done today. When I shot film, I had to use two cameras -- one for the color shots and one for the infrared pictures. (Or, if two cameras weren't available, I had to make a choice between which kind of images I needed the most). No loading and unloading the infrared film into/from the camera in total darkness. No exposure bracketing. All I do is mount the camera on a tripod, then take the color pictures with a polarizing filter and switching to an IR filter for the ... well, you can guess! I can quickly see the results -- another plus.

I'm not sure if I'll ever attempt to make money with the infrared pictures. But in the meantime, any time I go out shooting the landscape, the IR filter will come with me. Compared to the "good ol' days," infrared photography is fast -- and easy!

Work in Progress III

This should be the last picture of how the "Paint-In" painting is coming along.

Most of the landscape aspects of the piece are almost finished -- still a few more rocks, little shrubs and wildflowers to add. Plus, I just finished blocking-in five desert bighorn sheep which are native to these mountains.

I hope I can finish this work tonight, but I may need to give it an additional day just to make sure I have all the elements that I want in there.

(By the way, sorry for the uneven lighting on the painting these last few posts -- obviously, I'm just going for the "quick and dirty" pictures right now!)

I plan on stopping by this area this week once again. I partly want to see how the wildflowers are doing in the low desert, and I'd like to try and shoot some photographs of the hills from different angles as well as find some clear views of the canyon (Deep Canyon, it's called) that appears in the middle of the painting. And, who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and run into some o' them bighorn sheep, too!

But in spite of driving around all over creation this week looking for flowers, I'd sure like to finish this project tonight!

Buying Art to Match the Furniture

We artists endure several unpleasant aspects of being artists. One of these is hearing comments like this one from potential buyers: "We love it, but it's the wrong color/doesn't go with the furniture or drapes or cat or whatever." Most artists like to think we're creating work that will touch peoples' hearts and make their lives a little better or more meaningful as a result of having seen the works. Owning the art, of course, is even better.

So acquiring art just to "tie everything together," as they say on the TV home decorating programs, has a discouraging effect on those of us who work so hard to make meaningful one-of-a-kind products.

One of the gallery employees I worked with once told me of a married couple who came into the gallery some years ago. Both were looking at a large painting I made of a stormy desert scene with a golden eagle flying across the landscape. The overall color was blue, with yellow flowers along the bottom of the painting. The man appeared absolutely transfixed by my painting. But the wife gently reminded him that they didn't have blue in their color scheme. So they moved on to look for something else.

The painting obviously touched the man in a special way; perhaps it moved the woman as well. But it was the "wrong" color -- and they walked away from it. (It sold a few weeks later to someone else).

Years ago, I took some interior design classes in college. One comment the instructor made always stuck in my head: when you're ready to decorate a room, buy the furniture and other items first, then buy the paint you will use on the walls. The reasoning is obvious -- fabrics, draperies, blinds and other items come in a limited variety of colors. Paint comes in many hues and shades, and can even be mixed to match a sample you bring in. So it's easier to match paint to the furniture than vice versa.

I would add to that wisdom: buy your artwork first, then the furniture, THEN the wall paint. Original art is one of a kind -- the colors it has are all that there are.

Unfortunately, so many people buy the art last. I say: big mistake! They have the entire process reversed.

If all this makes sense to you, that's great. You will end up with art you truly love AND a great-looking room to put the art in!

Work in Progress, II

(The "Smackdown" was "Work in Progress, Part I"!!)

I managed to do a little more on the "Paint-In" painting yesterday. The hillside on the right is nearly finished. Today I'll add some ocotillos and some scrub that occurs in this area, then I can continue with the hill on the left. (I'll need that for the bighorn sheep that are going to appear later on in the painting -- gotta keep them critters fed!)

The Desert in a Gallery in the Desert

I happened to check the Website for one of the galleries I'm in. The owner has a photo of the front window with two of MY paintings sitting there for all to see! (The paintings in question are shown to the right of the gallery picture).

(Click here for the gallery's Website; MY Website is, of course, http://www/southwestspaces.com or http://www.desert-paintings.com

I wonder how many people have seen my paintings while strolling by the gallery?

Paint-In Smackdown Results

(Well, maybe "smackdown" doesn't quite explain it!)

Anyway, after the final painting session at the gallery last Saturday, I brought the piece home to the studio where I'll finish the image, varnish it and return it to the gallery (which, by the way, is here). The snapshot shows pretty much what the painting looked like at that point. After catching up on some other things the past few days, I finally resumed work on the painting.

(Say, have you ever noticed artists work on their art but musicians play music?)

To be continued...

The Desert in Infrared

I stopped by Joshua Tree National Park yesterday afternoon. It had been driving me crazy that we've had those fun, wispy high clouds the last few days, but I haven't been able to do any picture-taking because I've been in Palm Desert working on a painting (see the "Paint-In" series below).

It's too early for spring flowers in the high desert, and the low-desert flowers are just beginning to appear. So I decided to concentrate on shooting some infrared pictures and go for the surreal look. I don't know if any of these will become paintings someday, but digital infrared photography is a great, inexpensive hobby (inexpensive, that is, after one has invested in the equipment).

Paint-In, (Final) Day 4

Getting toward the end of the Paint-In Sessions. It looks like I'm sound asleep as I'm sitting there, but I actually am painting in this view. I'm painting. No, REALLY!

I did meet lots of people (including a CEO from a print publisher). But, of course, this wasn't the most productive way to paint, with things not being setup the way I'm used to, and talking with the many people who came in to visit me and/or to look around in the gallery.

However, the whole idea of doing this was not to maximize production, but to draw people into the gallery (which it did) and for me to become a little more better known in this area. And we even sold a small piece on Saturday.

I still have a lot to do on this painting, so I'll need to finish it at home. I'll definitely post a picture of it here (without me in the pic!) when it's done.

Paint-In, Day 3

Ahhh...3.5 days down, one to go, in the series of working on a painting in the gallery.

The picture was taken around 3:00pm / 1500 hours. After the shoot, I worked an additional hour and began adding details to the ridge on the left of the piece. I should be able to come close to finishing tomorrow, with some tweaking to be done after I bring it back to the studio. Then comes the varnishing, which will add another week to the process.

Plus, a little good news: we sold one of my small paintings today, while I was there! The buyers were cute and asked to have their picture taken while holding the painting and with me IN the picture. A sale here and there during this economy is much needed.

Stay tuned for the final installment of this adventure, (hopefully) tomorrow night.

Paint-In, Day 2.5

I stopped by the gallery again today to block in some areas of the "Paint-In" painting that hadn't been done yet.

Now, I can begin putting in some foreground detail. That'll give people a chance to get a better idea of what the painting will look like when finished.

However, I'm also beginning to see there's no way I'll finish this piece before 4:00pm/1600 hours on Saturday. I'll have to complete it in the studio next week.

BTW, either the painting is upside down, or I inverted the photo and I'M upside down! =)

The Paint-In, Day 2

Here I am, painting away in the gallery last Saturday. Scroll down a little and you'll see how I'm progressing.

(The light in the gallery is funny. It looks like I have a bald spot on top of my head, doesn't it?)

Blue Sunday

Sundays can be the strangest day of the week sometimes...

Sundays often used to be dreaded because the next day is Monday -- back to the salt mines at a job I may or may not have liked, depending on where I was working at the time. If other projects didn't get finished over the weekend: oh, well. If I couldn't fit them in after getting off work, they'd have to wait until the next weekend.

Since I've been self-employed (fall of 2000), the days of the week are mostly the same to me. So what's up with Sundays?

A number of projects seem to fall on Sundays, especially toward the evening. The Wiffee and I divide most of the chores, and my chores are doing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, helping carry in and put away groceries (one of The Wiffee's Sunday chores: grocery-shopping), cooking dinner and watering our numerous plants. On many Sundays, all of those needs fall in the evening. So if I'm panicky about not getting as far as I needed to on a painting to meet a deadline, and if I have to stop painting so I can do all these other things, I get majorly stressed. I've finished those chores for tonight, but now I'm too wound up to paint!

Another Blue Sunday. What's an artist to do?

The Paint-In, Day 1

Today was the first of four days I committed to working on a painting in one of the galleries I'm in.

I'm not used to painting in public, so I was a little nervous about the idea -- epecially if the painting wasn't turning out as well as I hoped, which does happen sometimes. At least if I'm in the studio, I can change and fix everything before anyone sees the painting.

But in spite of a few minor gliches during setup, the painting, which is 36" x 48" / 91cm x 122cm, is coming along OK. And the gallery owner seems pleased with it, as well.

The whole idea, of course, is that I'm in the front window where passersby will see me and say "Oh, look! That dude is working on a painting! Let's go in, watch, ask questions, then buy six or more of his paintings." Or something like that.

Plus, the owner sent out over 500 postcards promoting the event. So hopefully those people will show up and purchase additional artworks, including the one I'm working on.

The picture shows me cleaning a brush as I wait for a newly-applied layer of glaze to dry. (Miracle of miracles -- I managed NOT to get paint all over myself!) Three of my paintings were hung so they'd surround me and be visible through the window which is directly behind me.

More to come!!

An Ancient Lake

You're standing in a lake bed. No, really -- you are! A dry lake bed, that is, in the desert.

This is Lake Cahuilla ("cah-ooo-EE-yah"), an ancient lake that came and went depending on whatever direction the Colorado River "decided" to flow. The lake bed exists in the desert east of Palm Springs. This painting was one of the few commissions I've done in my career. The clients live close to this site but requested a painting of how it looked at that time because developers were planning on home and golf course construction out there. The development, Andalusia, now fills part of the area you see here.

One feature of the scene that was important to the clients was the waterline that marked Coral Mountain, the mass in the center of the painting. I'll have to admit: the waterline fascinates me. It appears especially dark after significant rainfall drenches the rocks. I noticed that the waterline was darker even than the shadows of the crevices among the rocks.

The early Spanish explorers never got to taste the water of Lake Cahuilla. Apparently, the lake water was gone by 1600AD. But the waterline is still visible 400 years later, a remnant of a time when a precious desert resource -- water -- made life a little easier for the native residents of an otherwise dry place.

Isn't She Cute?

Isn't she cute? Our guinea pig, that is. I absolutely can't resist cuteness like this.

I may have to do a painting of her some day.

Ooooo!!! SO cute!

A Painter in the Window

The next two Fridays and Saturdays (2/20,2/21 and 2/27,2/28), I'll be painting in the gallery instead of in my studio!

It'll be different and I'm a little nervous about it since I'm so used to being all by myself, a hermit in a cloistered environment, when I paint. But the gallery owner believes I'll be somewhat of a draw. Lots of people think art is some mysterious, spiritual process (and, of course, it IS!), and so are utterly fascinated when they see it being done before their eyes.

So those days, from 11:00am to 4:00pm (or 1100 to 1600 hours, if you prefer), I'll be at the gallery painting away by a window where passersby can see me. The owner also sent about 500 postcards promoting the event, and people have already been responding to his mailings.

If you're interested in coming by, please visit the gallery Website for information about finding the gallery: http://www.christophermorgangalleries.com/.

And, of course, DON'T forget to visit MY Website from time to time: http://www.southwestspaces.com/ or http://www.desert-paintings.com/.

Slightly Obsessed

Back in the 1970's, I ran into a friend at one of my L.A. hangouts. I hadn't seen her for a while, so we caught up on what we've been doing.

She mentioned she was now working for a PR firm that handled some of the major rock musicians of the time. (She named several artists they worked with; the only one I remember offhand is the group, Fleetwood Mac).

I said something like: "Wow! It must be fun getting to meet all of those big-name people, huh?"

She replied: "Well, not really. They're actually kind of boring." She went on to explain that most of them don't seem to know very much, EXCEPT if you get on the topic of music. Then they really know their stuff. Outside of that, they may have opinions about life, but they weren't that knowledgeable in depth about issues, politics or other important events. It was as though all of their brain cells were devoted to their music or, maybe, the music business in general.

Today, I wonder if that's just the way it has to be if one wants to make a living in the arts. It's easy to get distracted by things that are going on around us. Distractions kill art -- making a painting involves time plus whatever level of skill the artist has developed to that point. Anything else we do is at the expense of making art.

A gallery owner in Scottsdale, AZ once told me that all of the financially successful artists he knows do nothing but make art -- no hobbies, no other outside interests. They just paint 8-10 hours a day, seven days a week.

I'm not quite at that point yet, but art is pretty much all I do anymore. I'm slightly obsessed with art -- making it, reading about it or seeing it in books, museums or galleries. Apparently, that's what it takes to make it in this business.

As a line goes from one of my favorite movies, A Dog of Flanders: "To be an artist, one must give up everything. EVERYthing." It seems to be true.

Joshua Tree National Park in the Fall

Ahhh...fall in the Mojave Desert, with electric reds, oranges and yellows. Well, maybe not so electric. In fact, maybe those colors are REALLY subtle.

But they are there: the rusty-red seedheads of wild buckwheat, the (somewhat) orange dormant shrubs and the yellowish flowers of autumn-blooming rabbitbrush. Oh, yes, and the reddish tail of the redtail hawk. (Look carefully--the hawk is in flight in front of the Joshua tree on the left).

Another fact of life in this part of America -- you may have noticed that the Joshua trees in this painting seem to have a slight tilt to the left, specifically toward the South. Joshua trees have an unfortunate habit of growing toward the sun. For small, herbaceous plants, that wouldn't be a bad thing, but when you're a heavy Joshua tree, you don't really want to do that. As the tree grows, it becomes off-balance, causing the tree to lean more and more southerly until it finally topples over.

That's life in the Mojave desert. The seasons change, the subtle colors of fall come and go, and Joshua trees fall over from the weight of their own asymmetry as they reach for the sun.

Is there anything we can learn from this?

Here We Go Again!

It's been snowing on and off today! It was warm around here the last week or so -- note the poor creosote bush flower that thought is was spring, and now it's blowing around in snow-laden wind, fading rapidly.

At least with this rain-snow mix and the rains (and snow) we got in December, this may turn out to be a good wildflower season. But I still don't care much for seeing snow -- it's pretty and all that. However, we got our fill of it in Colorado!

Brrr-r-r-r-r...

Agathla

Agathla (a-GOTH-la) is a formation that stands in the southern entrance to Monument Valley in northeastern Arizona. The name is Najavo for "The place of the scraping of the hides."* Apparently, sheep are sometimes shorn here. (By the way, the name the Navajo call themselves is Diné (dee-NEH), which means "The People").

I love Monument Valley. I think the Diné are fortunate indeed to live in a place with such a spiritual presence. The People have a special connection with the land, and when you're in areas like this, it's easy to understand why.

This painting is a portrait of Agathla. It had been raining on and off that day. I dramatized the lighting somewhat to give the formation a sense that it's alive. The size is 8" x 10"/20cm x 25cm.

*Monument Valley: The Story Behind the Scenery, KC Publications (1992), p.18

Time In a Paint Tube

The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali has to be one of my favorite paintings of all time. It strikes me as a painting one could meditate on just by staring at those limp clocks in a landscape that seems to recede to infinity. This is a piece I wish I would have conceived of.

In fact, in the early 1970's, time struck me as being some sort of mysterious, transcendental force that we are all caught up in, slowing drifting down an invisible river, with all of its flows and eddies and -- on occasion -- rapids; no way to go back -- only forward, until we plunge over the edge to the ends of our lives.

Time IS transcendental -- I can't really explain what it is about time that has always fascinated me. Images like The Persistence of Memory come the closest to expressing a sense I get about the infinite. And for a former scientist like me, I can't reconcile those feelings with logic or the scientific method. Those feelings just -- ARE.

Some things have changed over the years regarding how my time is used, however. My senior year as a microbiology major (who had additional scientific interests to explore) began a process of becoming very busy for the first time in my life.

Then came grad school. I easily put in 14-16 hour days, seven days a week. I used to child grad students about how much time they spent in the lab -- until I became a grad student myself. The frustrating part was: no one (other than other grad students or faculty members -- former grad students themselves) understood how consuming grad school is for science students. People would ask me to do things with them or volunteer to do stuff for the church -- and I couldn't. No time!

It's kind of that way now, too. Trying to survive financially in art is another all-consuming activity. A gallery owner in Scottsdale, AZ told me the successful artists he knows work at their art 8-10 hours a day, seven days a week, no hobbies or outside interests other than what they need to do to make art.

So between grad school and painting, I've become somewhat of a hermit -- not because I'm trying to avoid society, but because I need to paint and then sell those paintings.

And -- the older I get, the faster time seems to slip away from me. I rarely have opportunities to meditate on the idea of time anymore. I miss that.

But hopefully, I'll continue to make artwork that will be appreciated by others in whatever time I have left.

Oscars

I guess the Oscars are coming up pretty soon. I say "I guess" because I'm not interested in watching it, and I don't know when it'll be broadcast.

How many awards events do these people need? Let's see...we've had the Golden Globes, Screen Actors Guild, Directors Choice...did I miss any? Then we also have the Grammies, the Emmies, the Peoples' Choice, American Music Association, Music Videos, etc. etc. etc.

Getting a paycheck isn't enough, it seems. Either these people in "the biz" really MUST have all that adoration and recognition, or they go along with it, put on a good show and do the best they can under the circumstances. I doubt the latter is the case.

I always loved hearing about late actor George C. Scott. He would sleep through the Oscars, and if he won, someone would call him (and wake him up), tell him he won, then he'd roll over and go back to sleep.

I won't be sleeping through the Oscars or the other numerous awards programs. I'll be painting. And I'll either listen to music, watch something else, or work in silence. Hmmm...that last one sounds mighty appealing!

How About Them Infrared Sox, Huh?

OK, as far as I know, there isn't a baseball team called the Infrared Sox (not to be confused with the Red Sox).

But infrared (IR) photography has always been a sort of hobby for me. I used to shoot 35mm infrared film, which was a pain for a number of reasons:

- It has to be loaded in, and removed from, the camera in total darkness;

- I had to cover the pressure plate on the inside of the camera back with matt black paper; otherwise, IR would pass through the film and reflect off of the pressure plate which has rows and columns of indentations that focus the IR back to the film, resulting in dark spots across the picture area;

- 35mm IR film is always grainy. This can be used to good effect, but sometimes I wanted NONgrainy pictures;

-contrast and exposure were difficult to control.

So finding out digital cameras are naturally IR-sensitive wa a Godsend! (If you want to see for yourself, look at the LCD screen on your digital camera while someone points a TV remote at it). I bought a filter adaptor and an IR filter, and did some shooting today. The images appear a deep red until they are "Photoshopped" into black-and-white images. And voila!! IR photos without the hassle of darkrooms or fumbling in the dark.

If this technology had been available years ago, it's possible I might have pursured a career as an IR photographer rather than as a painter. But at this point, I don't want to start all over again.

So it's painting forever for me! But IR photography will remain as a fun hobby and -- maybe -- a secondary source of income someday.

Jurassic Park / Jurassic Mark

The first of the "Jurassic Park" movies is one of my favorite flicks. After it came out in 1993 and I had seen it several times, I did a takeoff of the name and signed e-mails "Jurassic Mark." It seemed appropriate for several reasons:

- My name is Mark -- rhymes with, and looks like, "Park";
- I love the movie;
- I like dinosaurs (although I'm not an expert on them);
- I'll be 60 years old in a few months which, as far as I'm concerned, might as well be 150 million years old!

So -- yes, I'm a Jurassic-age fossil, and I go around chasing down and eating humans. Well, OK, I don't eat people, but I sure FEEL old sometimes! Except when I'm painting -- that takes me away from real life for a while. But in some ways, I'm still kind of a dino.

Don't be surprised if you get an e-mail signed by Jurassic Mark. That would be me.

Painting of Arches National Park

This is my latest painting -- finished just a few days ago! The size is a mere 11" x 14"/28cm x 36cm.

I mentioned on Wednesday's (28 Jan 2009) post about a trip we took to Lake Powell. One day of that trip, we (actually, I) hightailed it over to Arches National Park. This was the third visit I've made there and each time had only one day to look around! (Someday, we really need to spend a week there to see it all!)

This time around, I hiked up to see Delicate Arch up close (if you've ever seen a Utah license plate, you've seen this formation pictured on the plate). That hike wiped me out, it was getting late and the Park was surrounded by stormy weather, although at the Park itself, we had only alternating periods of sun and cloud cover.

On the way out in late afternoon, I saw this view which changed constantly as the wind drove the clouds across the sky, illuminating some distant formations, then casting them into shadow moments later. The foreground stayed mostly in shadow.

These are the kinds of scenes I live for. The lighting was magical, one could see forever, and the spires on the sides framed the view perfectly. Well, OK, I have one confession to make: the spires were separated by about 100 yards/100m and are not seen in the same view as I depicted them. Other than that, the painting, "Desert Moods" shows what I saw that afternoon. No apologizes necessary.

Again, as my tagline says: "The Vast Spaces of the Southwest" lives on.

Lake Powell

In late May, 2008, The Wiffee and I took a trip to northeastern Arizona and southeastern Utah. Our first stop was Lake Powell. The area features some of that neat redrock scenery that's typical of that part of the country plus a reservoir created by Glen Canyon Dam. Lake Powell is under the management of the National Park Service.

Our room on the second floor had a balcony that faced the lake. This painting shows the view we had, which was always amazing around sundown. The only change I made was to replace some tall, bamboo-like reeds with some native low-growing shrubbery in the foreground.

But everything else appears just as it was early one evening -- a place of magic.

Soberanes Point

As you probably know by now, I paint a lot of desert scenes. BUT -- believe it or not -- deserts aren't the only landscapes I paint. (Quick! Put your head between your knees before you totally pass out!)

The attached image shows a painting I made in 2006 of Soberanes Point, a spectacular spot along the Big Sur coastline of central California. This is one of several works I completed over the years. In fact, I'd like to do more. I always felt my desert paintings are stronger than my work of other types of scenery, but I think I'm getting to the point where I would paint good coastal views as well.

Soberanes Point lends itself to dramatic treatment because of the lighting, low clouds, rugged terrain, composition and colors. I should be able to improve on this particular painting the next time I make another piece of this or other views of Big Sur. So if you'd like to acquire this artwork, let me know! It needs a home. Size is 22" x 28"/56cm x 71cm, unframed.

When I paint another version of Soberanes Point, what you YOU have me do differently? More lights and darks? More flowers? More or less sky? Or...?

Aren't They Cute?

A male Gambels quail on the left seems to be scoping out the cute female on the right.

Desert Hills

These two pictures show a set of hills north of Joshua Tree National Park, CA. The shot on the left was taken soon after dawn; the right-hand image shows the same hills about an hour before sunset.

Obviously it was partly cloudy today, which produces magical lighting -- in my opinion, anyway. For me, these pictures illustrate what desert mountains are "supposed" to look like -- rugged, jagged peaks that overlap and recede into the distance. Even when we're enclosed by mountains, scenes like these model my tagline: "The Vast Spaces of the Southwest."

The power lines, of course, make these images less than perfect if used as photographs. However, as a painter, I can eliminate the imperfections and insert foreground elements that, working together, produces moody and atmospheric artwork -- the kind I like the best!