I dated a sailor from Maine who was always telling me there was this place I’d like. “You should really go to Mount Desert Island. There’s hiking; it’s beautiful. I think you’d really like it.” Fifteen years later I made it there. He was right; I liked it.
translating this view of Yosemite Valley from my hike to the top of Eagle Peak in December. oil on a very large unstretched canvas
Finally had a chance to lay these flat and photograph them.
Acrylic ink, sumi ink, pencil, and oil pastel on paper
22 x 30 "
I had some old paintings stacked in the studio that were hideous. Really, quite bad. But I couldn't bring myself to throw away a decent stretched canvas, so I scraped them down (a bit), layered on a coat of titanium white, and threw down some glacier inspired shapes and colors. This weekend I layered on some darker shades and some are starting to come together alright. In a few, the texture of the old painting underneath works. In others, it looks stupid; I'll probably end up trashing those. Going to let them simmer for a bit and then go in for a third round next weekend. Regardless of whether any of them make it through the month, it makes my soul happy to be working with oils.
Iceland is beautiful. I spent ten days there in July and couldn't wait to bring the colors, the light, the textures, the stories back to my studio. Last weekend, I finally had the time to do some painting. Here is a little of the process & a few of my favorites.
Fun fact #1 This 30 second timelapse represents something more like two hours
Fun fact #2 This footage was captured by taping my phone to the wall #lifehacks
A friend collected sticks covered in moss and lichen for my booth display last weekend. Now that the bustle of Renegade is over, I am putting these sticks to other uses: lichen covered stick studies with sumi ink on 5x7" and 8x10" paper. Looking at this growth in black and white pulls attention to the shape and texture in a new way. The drawing are piling up and I must say, they look quite delightful grouped together!
I don't currently have access to the tools I would need to stretch my own canvases. This means, if I want to work on something sturdy, I'm limited in size (since I also don't have access to tons of money which could be spent on shipping large prestretched canvases). Since neither power tools or bags of money seem to be on the horizon, I'm giving unstretched canvas a try. Honestly, it feels so good to be painting big again, I don't really give a hoot whether or not these works will hold up over time.
I live with a nearly constant feeling of division: one foot over here and another over there. If I had a third foot, it would probably go off and occupy a third space too. And so, it is a joy whenever I can "ah-ha!" and bring any two parts of my world together. I've been experimenting with grayscale texture studies for months now -- and with cacti for nearly year. It took a holiday weekend to merge them together; feeling pleased with the result.
4x36 inch sumi ink and white acrylic on paper.
Throughout the Google campus are office galleries, managed by employee volunteers. I feel fortunate to have caught the eye of one gallery owner who invited me to show work in one of the Sunnyvale buildings.
During a visit to Joshua Tree in the spring of 2015, I became obsessed with opuntia basilaris (beavertail cactus). The bright pink flowers of this minty, matte plant punctuated the desert landscape: a pop of party life in an otherwise neutral environment. I brought photographs and sketches of them back to the studio where I began exploring their shapes and essence in different media. Now, I seem to find members of the opuntia everywhere -- prickly pear farms in Morocco, a beavertail at the foot of a sculpture in the Musee d’Orsay, and in the gardens of neighbors in San Jose. Each sighting brings a sense of joy and familiarity.