River Dance (Redwing) 24x24

I've been building some paintings lately on 24x24 canvases. I am finding this size quite enjoyable for composing landscapes...think I'll keep it in the rotation. This river view is of my true Alma mater. (soul mother) Most people refer to a college or university when using this little Latin phrase. I however, being the genuine scholar that I am, (?) use it in the truest and purest sense. Short of incubating in it's belly for nine months of gestation, I spent all my formative and educative years suckling her nectar, feeding on her crayfish, wallowing in her mud and cavorting in her current. It's been a while since the Mississippi has made it into the pantheon of my subjects but, truth be told, I think one could easily spend an entire lifetime depicting the river in all her splendiferous glory. Alas, my religious zeal and affections for her beauty have been

co-opted by a life-stream whose course has drawn me farther and farther away from her silty shores. Someday I hope to wash my feet in her murky milk, never more to roam.

River Boat 24x18

Here's a little change of pace for your ocular enjoyment. Could this be the Amazon? The Seine, the Rogue or the mighty Mississippi? You guess the river and ...maybe I will surprise you with a gift of some sort. Or maybe I'll just be quietly awestruck with your impressive powers of divination. (That's the word we use to say "guess" in Spanish by the way.) A friend sent me this image...a photo from a fairly exotic place...I've never been there but I have killed a crocodile.

Wuthering Heights 36x24

I think there should be a fraternal order of cloud painters. I get a lot of correspondence from artists that have their heads in them (the clouds) and it has me wondering if there isn't something primal about looking up. I was on a zealous tear the other night expounding my own private heresies to a semi-permanent captive audience. (my family) For the most part they are on-board with my somewhat passionate view of the return of the Lord Jesus. It's not that I have set ideas about the when and where it's just that I find it immensely encouraging to contemplate...not scary and fearful, just curiously encouraging. My daughter asked how we would know it's really Him when He comes. Good question. "Take heart that no one deceive you (saying "Look, he's over there", or "he's inside here") for just as the lightening comes from the east, and flashes even to the west, so shall the coming of the Son of man be". That's pretty awesome imagery. In another place He says, "The Son of Man is coming on the clouds of the sky with power and great glory". So, here you have all the ingredients necessary for artistical fanaticism. Don't worry, I'm not about to start painting The Last Supper and angels...(haven't seen many of those) Besides, I have yet to make a cloud worthy of the above-mentioned occasion. It's just that there is something that goes way, way back in our little psyches that causes us to look up...maybe it's the imprint of that first colorful mobile dangling above little Billy in his crib back in 1962. Or maybe, in this tarnished old world, we are all looking for beauty beyond description...the sky comes close.

Trio

Here's a trio of paintings. These should be as easy on the pocketbook as they are on the eyes, no? Not too often the case with fine art but here you can find it that way...hopefully. I know a lot of folks who can't just walk into a high-falutin' gallery and lay down 2 or 3k for a pretty picture. That's why we exist...to serve humanity glorious helpings of artistical goodness and everlasting renditions of beautiferous bounty for the otherwise bare and drab walls that surround us. Next to reading a good book I recommend the enjoying of visual art...after, of course, ...time spent fishing.

Above 9000 24x30

A stylish view of our little mountain range here in Catalina, AZ. This was an easy one to work out (I look at these everyday)...One thing you must do if you have a skyscape with a lot of clouds is anchor them by establishing shadows. When you can show defined shadows it makes the picture more solid, more believable, thus, "anchoring" the clouds. For sale here.

Boy with Dog 30x24

This is Eddie and Davey walking north from the house. They were on their way to try out their skateboard skills at an abandoned slab of concrete a few doors down from our place.(yes, the dog too) and but for a rebellious camera and it's fumbling operator I would have been with them and never would've captured this picture. Davey, being the faithful friend that he is, is here shown displaying his divided loyalties. "Do I go with Master number one, the true Alpha-leader of the pack (me) or do I stay with fast Eddie, the funnest boy-master a dog ever had?" As you can see, the dog is closer to the boy and even though he continued to cast anxious glances my way never really turned tail and came home to papa. Spurned once again and relegated to the ranks of sulking artist alone in the studio with my imaginary muse making up pretty pictures so I won't feel so alone, I purposed to make this one to remember. I should probably keep it since I've never painted my first-born boy child before this. Alas, the child must eat...it is for sale here.

24x36 Roseburg

The Umpqua valley near Roseburg, Or. These are the shapes that most capture my eye, second only to clouds and water. It's foliage in all it's unrivaled splendor, green or dry, short or tall, but especially tall...as in, trees, that most readily grab my attention. I would like to know them better. A few have spoken to me over the years. Not often and not with many words mind you but remember, the Ents don't believe anything is worth saying unless it takes a long time to say. Yes, there are those who talk to animals ...and there are those of us who converse with the woods. I used to be able to do a sort of Vulcan mind meld with woodwork. Just by touching and caressing, especially an unfinished piece of milled lumber or furniture, I could feel and sense the inner workings of the cosmos through the fibers and grains. Therein lie hidden secrets of the ancient world many of which remain heretofore undiscovered. Alas, I have all but lost the touch. Anymore a piece of wood to me is just a stick for building a frame or paddling a kid. Sorry to let you down. This great scene, however, will not let you down...being offered on auction at our favorite on-line community marketplace.

Red Sky At Night 24x24

When you've taken the life of as many creatures as I have the sound is more than familiar. Some call it the death rattle. Your quarry, or victim as it might be, lays there writhing in a puddle of indescribable agony, a pitiful, wrinkled mess of carnage waiting for the coup de grace. I often oblige the defeated one with a sharp poke in the eye, even digging out, with a certain gusto, the last vestiges of life...licking the bowl clean as it were. Yes, there usually is some wheezing, often accompanied by a distinctive, plaintive call akin to that of a mourning dove on a lonely road somewhere at 5 am. I am quite fond of this awkward, somewhat morbid last waltz...it invigorates only in that it bespeaks new life. Life begets life. Don't forget it! Nothing ever comes of nothing and there ain't no such thing as a free lunch.
So was the recent demise of my last tube of rose madder paint. She died while making this nice desert sunset...gave her life in order to bring to life a simple picture. It is truly the circle of life. Hakuna Matata!

Apple Eye 12x24

This painting was made over a few days with fast drying translucent glazes...gives a real 3d kind of feel to the clouds. Speaking of clouds, there were none overhead the other eve when the hapless diamondback happened across my path. Bad luck for him 'cause as much as I believe in the theory of live-and-let-live he was just too dang close to (smack in the middle of) the path where my kids walk everyday. Leti (my would-be-one-time-estranged-prodigal son - daughter) whom we love with all our heart is just getting over the effects of a bite. Two weeks ago she stepped on a small rattler in her house. It wrapped itself around her ankle as she tried to shake it loose, fangs sunk into her instep. Not much venom was injected and aside from a benumbed lower leg and foot she got away relatively unharmed. So, I have bagged the Desert Three this summer. I know, it ain't the African Big 5...but maybe we can add fire ants and Gila monsters to the list of the fearsome man eaters of the desert(?!?)

Jewel 30x24

Monsoons over the desert make for the best skies in the world. I spend more time these days on cloudscapes. Sometimes I get to laying it on pretty thick (figuratively and literally) The trick is not to let it get away from you. Start with thinned darker washes/blocking and build from there. I've been using more stand oil lately and have really liked the results. In fact, I'm making more studio paintings that are built over time using a process reminiscent of techniques used by the old masters. I find I can get an almost three dimensional effect by layering translucent colors. I will label these "Master Series" paintings when I make them available...not to sound presumptuous, it's just reflective of the technique employed. This painting is available on auction here.

The Marshwiggle 30x24

My new favorite blog...Hawksquill If you want some delightful, good-for-the-mind-and-heart reading check it out. Yes, I am prejudiced. "Remember" I often tell the kids, "I am your creator!" I know, it ain't good theology but my goal is to strike the fear of God (and dad) in my chillun for their own good. Anyway, the writing in Marissa's blog is at least as easy on the eyes as this painting. Leave her constructive comments and don't forget to lather on the praise for her dad if you do. She discovered long ago that I don't really have a third eye on the back of my head so any help I can get will be appreciated...

Shadows Are Fleeting 24x30

How many people do you know who can claim dried, shredded shark meat as their favorite breakfast food? Go ahead and count me if you have any fingers left. Mix it with some hand-made tortillas and a few chiltepin peppers fresh off the bush in the front yard and ...my mouth waters just thinking about it. My father-in-law is here this week. He blew in from the south with the latest hurricane and brought with him fresh fish and dried shark and manta ray direct from the Sea of Cortez. Neil Young wrote a song about Cortez ("...the killer") and I wonder at the reasons for naming a whole sea after such a murderous rascal. Of course they celebrate the likes of Pancho Villa in some places so go figure. Anyway, shark is good as machaca and as many times as I've had it in this dried version I don't think I've ever eaten it fresh.

The painting pictured here is an image that could never even remotely remind me of sharks or Cortez. That's why we put them together. It's all about being original.

Water's Face 20x24

September is fast upon us and you know what that means...Right, more inspiration for landscapes/seascapes like this to make their way onto canvas and into happy homes for never-ending enjoyment. Truth be told, I think there aren't too many things that qualify for such a description. One of them might be the love of a dog (actually you've got about 14 years max). Another might just be the sound of my favorite uncle's voice. He'll be in concert next month in Phoenix. Will I attend? Well, in all the years I've known him he has yet to send me a VIP invite and I don't expect him to start now. I know, he has no idea what he's missing by not hanging out with his estranged nephew. If we measured him in dog years that doesn't give him too much time to make things right. Regardless, I will keep painting...and remembering my old dog's faithfulness.

What Cows See ('cept in black n white)

A happy meadow with content cows...doesn't get any better than this. I was reminiscing about the old days. Do you remember when there used to be all kinds of abandoned buildings everywhere? The countryside was peppered with little outbuildings, boarded up homesteads, defunct hamburger stands etc. The early-mid seventies was a kid's dream for breaking into old shacks and searching for collectibles and ...burnables. On the edge of this field I'm sure there's a dilapidated structure just waiting for exploration....unless of course these brash bovines already put a torch to it. I wouldn't put it past 'em. For sale on auction here.

On The Bay 30x24

I don't typically like high key paintings ...but I do find it somewhat therapeutic to express my inner angst...always comes out as bright and cheery. Well, maybe I'm not one to store up too much guilt and sorrow and unfulfilled dreams, crushed hopes and frustrated and fractured fantasies. But then again, what about that time...? and how about when...? Wow, I really do have some serious issues. Well, artist or not, I think all of us, could we lie down on the proverbial couch, would be able to come up with sufficient work for even the dullest of therapists. After Painter of Light and Cowboy Singer I think my next career choice would have been that of a friendly shrink. I imagine myself sitting there doodling in a sketch book, drawing pictures of cows and trees and writing down song lyrics and as my patients describe their inner turmoils I throw out little anecdotes and platitudes that make them feel better...and prescribe a healthy dose of reading the Psalms...Truly the most cathartic thing you can do is to read (out loud if you're able) the psalms of David. Make them your prayers and you will experience a soul-cleansing like you never thought possible. And, if that doesn't work...take a couple of Vicodin.

It's A Wonder (Tall Trees Ain't layin' Down) 24x20

Getting our fill of piniferous aromas and ocular chlorophyll we hiked through many a stand of tall trees this summer. This view made it into perpetual perpitude as I permanently dedicated it to everlasting (almost) perpetuity by using archival pigments and acid free canvas substrate. It was a joy to paint these trees-descendants of the Ents...at least that's what they told me as I wrested one of my kids from the gnarled limbs of a particularly large and smelly one. Offered here for your continued enjoyment

Rogue River 24x20

Mid-summer and 50 degrees at the coast. That should be the name of this very cool new painting...near the mouth of the Rogue river in Oregon. The late sun blazed through the misty cold and was giving everything a bath in it's warm light, tinging with a golden lava glow all the colors. My fingers were getting so cold I could hardly work the camera. In the summertime... that ain't right.
This was a little tricky to paint but when finished...quite easy on the eyes. Available for your permanent collection here.

Montana Moon 24x18 Montana Family '97

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Avery Field 30x24

Twenty years ago today the Vikings won a pre-season game on Monday night football against the Miami Dolphins (23-17). I stayed up late in the birthing room glued to the TV screen that was set at an odd angle up in the corner next to the ceiling. The curtains were teal blue and the walls were a soft pastel pinkish tan. I remember the corridor, I remember the lighting, I remember something about contractions and was hoping my first child's arrival wouldn't interrupt the game. What a relief it was when the final displayed a "W" for my team! Oh, and what?... we have a baby girl? I think I'll name her Marissa in honor of the win. I hear she was born at about 2 am and that I was there. I don't remember that part. Anyway, how can I be expected to recall the details of something that happened so long ago? Plus, I've had to witness other kids being born and I get all the details mixed up what with all the "Mr. Hawkins would you like to cut the umbilical chord?, Mr. Hawkins, would you like to swaddle your newborn? Mr. Hawkins, can you leave the room, your baby is not breathing and we have to get people in here "STAT" to resucitate him?" The painting of a field across the way from our friend's house in Oregon is for sale here.

Table Mesa 15x30

The tarantula was too small and agile for his own good. Had he been a bit larger (and slower) I would have let him live. As it was we were all gathered on the front porch and the southwest sun was goldifying the last few clouds on the western horizon. He scooted around the sandal-clad feet of our guests and headed for the ever-open front door. A spider of his caliber and renown should never act in such an undignified manner...I squashed him. We hardly ever see scorpions around here...maybe one or two each year. It kind of depends on your neighborhood whether you have a lot of them or not...same goes for giant cockroaches. Anyway, I have killed four scorpions in the house this summer,.. Add the tarantula and now I've only got to get me a rattler and I've bagged the Desert Three. Table Mesa is for sale here...kind of reminds me of my favorite dish ...Chicken Con Pollo.

Early 18x24

Davey is starting to show his age. His muzzle is getting frosty and he trips sometimes descending the steps on his way to the shop. For years I have thought how nice it would be to have my favorite dog stuffed, sitting in the corner, his head cocked with that winsome inquisitive look good dogs are known for. It's halfway between bewilderment and joyful excitement at the possibility that master might be paying attention to me. There he'd set for perpetual head-patting enjoyment never needing a bath or a brushing...and never shedding again. The almost perfect pet. An on-line search for "pet preservation" came up with an array of morbid possibilities all of which convinced me that when it's Davey's time to go to that big ol' dog pound in the sky the best place for his remains will be...where the red fern grows. No, I don't think I want my best friend freeze dried forever, thank you. Here's the auction for this painting.

Runnoff 36x24

Rain's a' commin'. That's what you say when that familiar damp earth smell hits the nose and the memory synapses fire to bring you back to where you first recognized that aroma as something new and exciting...a portent of change for the better. Or, in my case, rainy afternoons stuck inside till you just couldn't take it anymore and you put on your rubber galoshes with those unbelievably inefficient black buckles. I know it might be hard for some folks from the northland (or anywhere there's black dirt) to not associate rain smells with the excitement of seeing and catching earthworms. The streets would fill with them and the puddles that formed along the curb would harbor their stinking forms for days after a good soaking. They are some of my very first and fondest memories and well, rain smells just don't have that wormy ingredient here in the desert. We do however, have a swamp cooler on our house. Actually, we have three. (You should pity the Tucson dweller that does not have air conditioning) They effectively bring in the outside air and cool it quite nicely when the humidity is low. But when there's been rain you find out why they're called swamp coolers. To me it's a beautiful reminisce every time my duct work sends out wafts and draughts of moist air that reeks of rotting worms. So you see, my kids haven't been completely deprived of childhood essentials just because we live in a desert. This writing relates directly with the painting pictured above.

La LLamada 24x36

Crispy, crunchy creamy clouds- Words that at first blush don't seem to go together well but here they describe perfectly these wafting enigmas of ethereal effervescence. (as well as your favorite donut) This is being offered for sale at the place America loves to shop...and no, I'm not referring to Craig's list.

The Hills Alive 20x24

Just up the hill from Sacramento, past Folsom on the way to Placerville. That's were Chris lives and were we stayed...and had views like this for a few days. This is being offered on auction here.

Mt. Shasta 36x24

This is how Mt. Shasta looks in the middle of summer. The area had just experienced some of the highest temperatures and still the snow remains. I had several views to choose from but liked this one from the west, southwest. This is available for sale at auction. See link top right.

Umpqua Field 24x20

Oregon near the coast...summer 2009

Bandon Bluff 24x20

Questions of the first order is what I've heard them called. They are the big questions, the why and how of existence. I grapple with them from time to time and I grappled about them the other day with a young man who fancied himself intellectual and a bit of a philosopher. Well, I'm by no means a mental giant but neither do I readily embrace cognitive dissonance as a practise. This young fellow was more than willing do that and it was discouraging and frightful to see and hear what passes for "reason" in some circles. Now before you get to thinking that I'm fixin' to pull myself up by my own bootstraps let me say that I comported myself in my usual humble and dignified manner ...worthy of the best self-effacing lambs out there. No, I take no joy in gloating my brain or it's prowess over others.(not that I have a lot of opportunity for that) It's just that sometimes the quantum physicist in me gets to cringing overmuch at the improbable theories foisted upon us continually by the modern media and intellectual elite; people who should know better. The details of the beliefs or lack thereof aren't what rankle as much as the quick and easy embracing of dishonesty. Truth on the inward parts...that's what God desires. King David prayed that God would keep him from secret sins...ones he wouldn't / couldn't even know. Now that is really peeling back the layers for some serious soul-searching...something that will bode well with anyone hoping to develop a systematic life philosophy. I for one have a hard enough time just looking in the mirror... which I do everyday as I paint. Seeing the picture in reverse gives fresh eyes and especially helps in the drawing and composition stages. How did I turn this mini rant into an art lesson? ...it's not the turpentine anymore for I now use odorless.

Johnny & Me

What do Johnny Cash and I have in common? Well, for one thing, we've both been to Folsom prison. Also, I can imitate him pretty good for being about half his size. I don't think he ever really had a chance to imitate me though. Too bad 'cause I think he would have done a bang-up job of it. I saw him at the Pine City fair sometime in the late 80's. My sister was working as a traveling gypsy selling leather goods to bikers as she followed the Midwest county fair circuit. I went to check up on her one time to make sure she wasn't involved with shifty drifters and down-on-their-luckers. It was mid-week, the middle of the day and it was hot and humid. I couldn't believe my luck when I heard Johnny's name announced over the loudspeaker. Hoping beyond hope and wishin' upon a star that I could somehow find my way into a grandstand that was sure to be full to capacity I hurried across the fairgrounds. To my amazement and dismay I found the place all but empty. No one in that whole dad-blamed county had the good sense or cultured taste to recognize a true American legend. Their loss was my front row gain. Turns out my sis was involved with the aforementioned drifters and pistol packers so I had to decline Johnny's invitation to join him on the road for a few shows. FYI, even though I missed my call in life to be in a cowboy band there ain't much in country music I like...Johnny, Roy, Merl and Willie are exceptions.

Adonde Vas? 36x24

Yes, when it gets right down to it, I can be pretty dang funny. See picture above for proof. That's me in Chinatown, SF. with a new friend in a gift shop. Her only intelligible English word was "beautiful", which I took to mean she liked me in the Chinese cap and long braid. I was able to practise language skills heretofore never used to such an oriental extent and got on quite well with the natives. Thankfully the rest of our antics weren't recorded. We did purchase some trinkets hoping it might help mitigate any potential political unrest caused by whatever possible offensive cultural faux pas I might be guilty of. I almost bought some roosters and a peacock but thought better of it when I was reminded we still had 3 thousand miles to travel with 7 people in the car. I settled for some of the best dim sum I've ever tasted and a walk across the golden gate bridge. The painting pictured is for sale...saw a lot of scenery just like this all over central California.

Oregon Trail 24x20

The Oregon trail beckoned ever so gently but, convincingly...and I finally gave in. Save for it's depressed economy, cigarette puffing population and non self-serve gas stations Oregon and it's people are a virtual paradise of natural beauty and kind hearted folks. Yellow teeth seen easily through frequent smiles punctuate the landscape and weather extremes we didn't expect greeted us at every turn. I had to pick up the lost remnant (three of our kids were in Or.) or we probably wouldn't have had the reason that precipitated our journey. Anyway, we're all happy and none the worse for it and now that I'm back to work all I can think about is that glorious coast...and heading back up there to do some fishing with Cam. This painting is available for purchase on auction. You can see it by opening the link to the top right for "Link To Art For Sale".

Shrouded 24x20

Last Sunday was spent in Phoenix. 117 degrees greeted us with a zephyrine slap in the face and a new found appreciation for the coolness of our little gypsy camp here in the shadow of the Catalina mountains in Tucson. The monsoon rains are threatening every afternoon and tarantulas come out to greet us every evening now. The warm west wind (zephyr) reminded me of balmy climes to the south and visions of one of my past lives came reeling through the back roads of my mind as I lay on the hammock gently swinging and softly singing a tune from a foreign land...couldn't help but make this picture of a muted sun shrouded in mist, wrapped in an enigma covered by conundrums...and palm fronds and banana leafs.

Tall Order 36x24

Some people's kids learn to read at age four. Some children are walking at 8 months. Child prodigies abound in our day and accelerated growth and development is what getting ahead in life is all about. No? Well, FYI, the guys who were shaving in junior high go bald in their twenties and die of prostate cancer when they're forty. The early readers all need glasses and some sort of therapy and the Punt,Pass & Kick champions all end up in drug re-hab. I know, it sounds like a bleak scenario but if you're a late bloomer take courage. I'm convinced that those of us who have taken our time to grow up will outlive most of our contemporaries. The oldest man in the world just died at 113. I think I'll pass him by at least five years and my kids...? Well, they learned to talk at age six (before they learned to walk) ...I think they might go for a century and a half. Consider this- Most people suffer that first pang of parental-offspring separation when little Billy is five years old and is sent off to his first day of school. Mom wrings her hands as the big yellow and black box, belching diesel fumes and grinding gears roars away with it's precious cargo. I just experienced that for the first time! My kids are 14 and 16 for Pete's sake,

and here we are, a couple of basket cases wringing our hands and fretting and worrying and the kids will be away for only a couple of weeks. They've been gone just 48 hours and I've already burned up all my allotted text message privileges and cell phone minutes for the month. I think all this is indicative of the long life we are going to live. That said, I plan to make paintings like this for another 60 years or so....If all this fretting doesn't kill me first.

Golden Bow 24x36

We were surrounded on a bald mountain top, rain coming down on every side and lightening cracklin' like Jiffy Pop on a hotplate. Then the bow appeared. There were actually three of them within view and the late light on the Catalinas with the virga coming down and the rain leaking out of the clouds at specific points made for a pretty spectacular scene. For lack of a better word I refer to those patches of rain as sticks. As in "Look at that cool stick of rain coming out of that cloud". I've tried numerous (invented) terms over the years to adequately describe the phenomena and all seem to fall short. It's not a herd of rain. That doesn't work. Neither does patch or shock or pile (though I think "shock of rain" sounds pretty good)...I'm sure there is correct nomenclature for such things. As I'm sure my kids think it's officially called a "stick" of rain. (Even though Marissa, who is the college "brain" in the family, snickers every time I toss out one of my westernisms for public consumption) Anyway, the rain was literally all around us and making the clouds drip and droop in every direction...and nary a drop touched us! (We did get struck by lightening a few times but that was a small price to pay for such a view) This large summertime oil painting is offered at auction this week. See link at top right for all available work.

Skyways 24x30

Pierce through eyes that light blinding
Open wide windows soul searching
Sometimes seeing ever falter
Groping hoping stumbling grasping
Pierce the crystal globes with fire
Burning purified desire
See now clearly ever after
Bright thy vision clean with laughter
_____________________________
Pierce through heart to break the measure
Metered beat set to suffer
Breaking bone and rock and stone
Doubting fearing ever weakening
Pierced and cleaved and rent in two
Bloodless orb pierced anew
Heart of flesh appears now beating
Ever new by love’s soft pleading
___________________________________
Pierce the ears with the symbol
Unstop them now and pierce through deafness
Whispering on the wind soft pleading
Strain to hear the meadow lark
‘Tis the sweetest sort of singing
Ever flirting warbling ringing
Ever let my pain be gone
Pierce my eyes and heart and song
"...to know Him, the power of His resurrection and...the fellowship of His suffering"

Bob's pick, My tele

What's that red thing on my forehead? If you're guessing I've converted to Hinduism... you're wrong. Those of you who guessed that this is a guitar pick used by my estranged uncle and his pal Eric Clapton, you're right. A good friend and fellow art aficionado has hung out numerous times on uncle Bob's estate in Malibu...A handful of picks from an evening jam amongst old friends made it's way to him in the aftermath of what can only be described as...indescribable. Marissa proudly wears one on a necklace...The other? I keep it handy in my wallet and pull it out from time to time for effect. Here I'm pictured between sets at a local gig...my Fender "fat" tele in sunburst with maple neck sits quietly admiring her master and his headwear.

Sk8 Mountain 24x30

Here's the deal. You either have a ten million dollar camera and some serious training (of which I have neither) or you look back at what were supposed to be beautiful landscape snap-shots and say..."Why did I take that picture?" So were my thoughts a few nights ago when my neighbor, May, whipped out her cell phone as we commented on the awe-inspiring monsoon sky above our heads and clicked off a few rounds. I've learned my lesson. Above is the scene...translated for eternal (almost) posterity on an archival / acid free canvas made with permanent pigment oil paints. Her cell phone "camera" on the other hand...will have some very unremarkable and forgettable images that she will send to a far away grand daughter who will say "Where's grandma in the picture?" Lesson number one- unless you have the above mentioned camera and the photographic moxy to make those landscapes pop, make sure you put friends and family in as many scenes as possible...much more fun to view those in the future than some obscure sky scene over the grand canyon in 1974. Lesson number two- send your pics to me or use them yourself to paint an inspiration that will last a lifetime. This everlasting painting displaying and reflecting eternal goodness in effigy is being offered at auction and, as I've said before, will probably go at a price that will make us shake our heads in wide-eyed wonder in years to come. See link at top right of page for more info.

Sentinal 24x30

Finally, I found the usefulness of My Face and Spacebook (ha). One of the kids signed me up a year or so ago and I'm like..."what up with all these friends inviting me to places I don't know?" I don't have that many friends (In America) and I'm not even that friendly to begin with. (or am I?) And I have no idea how to sign-in to nor do I desire to learn how to navigate another web site. All that cynicism and skeptitude has been washed away this last week or so with some very fun reunions with some very old friends. Again, Carmen and I seem to be the only ones who haven't aged but even in wrinkles and hunched over my old friends look great! My new dilemma is to know just how much of the past twenty five years I can safely divulge without overwhelming them with our rock-star lifestyle. The truth is we have lived a life that would make Indiana Jones shudder in terror and the likes of Captain Kirk and Ernest Hemingway, clamor for our autographs. Well, after having converted several continents and having fought off every imaginable creature and tropical disease known to man, many are left a bit incredulous if not altogether apoplectic at the outrageousness of our stories. You want the truth? Maybe you can't handle the truth. Or maybe that last bought of malaria addled my memory and the bits and pieces all add up to ...one big fantasy. Regardless, it's pretty neat to hear from old friends...like the proverb that mentions how refreshing it is to hear good news from a distant land. I dedicate this new misty field painting to friends old and new...Cheers!

Valley Of The Bear 37x49

Go big or go home. In spite of the daunting aspects of painting large...I do like it! This ginormous bad-boy was a real joy to make...should have made a video of this one. Well, my cameraman was busy making stop-motion movies out of Legos and clay and thus, the camera was filled with thousands of little pictures that all looked the same. It'd be great if the kids could parlay their creativity into worthwhile pursuits someday. As it is, they slurk (combination of slink and lurk) around the house looking for costly things to cannibalize (destroy) in their quest to express the most unintelligible, nonsensical gibberish and madness known to man. Is that normal for teenagers? Somebody help me!

Fall 24x36

This started out as an abstract study...first on a 3x4 inch piece of wood. I liked the shapes and color and transferred it to a large 3x5 foot canvas...It was too daunting! So, here it is in a more manageable size. Painting large is not always as easy as it seems. You have to overcome a number of hurdles, not the least of which is the giant blank snowstorm staring you down. I just talked to my friend and fellow painter Mike Mahoney. He is in the process of making a huge mural...something like eight by thirty three feet. Is your living room wall big enough to handle a big ol' monster like that? If it is, your house is a palace and...you need some windows.

Pinnacle

Wild, woolly, west and windy. That was the working title of this painting. The boys and I just returned from a wilderness journey the like of which would have killed Survivor Man. Well, he might not have died actually. In fact, he would have had his fill of small-mouth bass and catfish so Giardia from drinking the river water on the Apache Indian reservation and subsequent dysentery would have been his main concern...and ours. We saw abundant bear sign (was that the reason why Scott insisted we all pack heat?) and some looked to be from enormous creatures. I don't think we had any real reason to worry though. The last bear attack in the southwest happened about four hundred years ago and it only took about 50 yards of carrying my 300lb. pack to realize the .40 cal semi-auto with two extra clips strapped to my belt was superfluous. Strange how men find comfort in firearms. It's not as though I've ever really needed to shoot attacking marauders on any kind of consistent basis. There's only several that come to mind and those I probably could've just as easily dispatched with a crossbow or a small spear! Guns are way overrated if you ask me. I'm happy to report the kids caught fish, I ate them, we slept under the stars and save for some mild sunburn and a sore back made it back to civilization unscathed and ready for more.

Earth N Sky 24x36

He held her hand and bowed to kiss
The up-turned face and remembered then
The little one so quick to learn
So soon to fly, time stood still
You can’t conceive all the colors
You can’t believe the songs that seem
To ring so true yet leave you longing
For yesterday…oh heart be still

It’s not from wisdom that you speak
When looking back to yesteryear
And times gone by as if they were
Better then, oh time stand still
Mark the passages and no regrets
See her chestnut hair in light
Glowing bright pearlescent eyes
Fly by night oh whippoorwill

My favorite bird, the whippoorwill
She’s an angel of the first degree
My favorite girl her hand in mine
Sings of Christ my favorite King
The King bequeaths the blessing now
To little birds and girls that sing
And to every child of nature’s own
Tomorrow’s song they will bring

Star 30x24

This is the view we had coming up and out of San Diego last week. A bit of frolicking in the surf and some good times with some old friends were had by our little clan. The heavy atmosphere of the Cali. coast just inspires painting...everything glows with an ethereal luminescence and everywhere you look there seems to be a painting just waiting to happen. I'm sure that's the same thought the man we met at Laguna beach had. That's where our similarities ended. He was painting on his little french easel and we stopped to bother him a bit. Really no bother I thought 'till he began to unload on my boys about the video games (which they hardly ever play) that are ruining their lives and are the sole cause for the ruination of our world. Not that I'd wholly disagree but he kept staring into our eyes as if to uncover some secret sin and cry "ahaa, caught ya". We just stared back at him with a benevolent condescension and pried ourselves away as graciously as possible. Well, my kids are almost too respectful. I was secretly hoping for one of them to "accidentally" tip over the guy's masterpiece. I shudder to think of his fate had he encountered kids like us at sixteen. Lucky for him we were fresh off a Disney vacation and the strains of "It's A Small World" were still ringing in our ears tempering our actions and thoughts and any proclivity we might have towards harmful mischief.

He's Not Alone (The Hanging Tree) 36x24

After a full week of cranial pain and torment, the like of which I'm sure was never even close to being experienced at Guantanamo Bay, I was recovered enough to dance the night away. We met at our neighbor's house for a dessert and to let the kids cavort around the desert a bit. There was a whole pile of 'em (kids) and once the parents got involved... all bets were off. We grooved to the sweet soul sounds of ...the Macarena, Cotton-Eyed-Joe, Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting, YMCA, and a dozen others. Now, I didn't really think we were much for dancing in our family. Sure, I've been known to cut a rug or two from time to time but my wife is shy and the kids..well, they're teenagers. All that presumption was thrown out along with every inhibition and care. All of it tossed straight to the wind! The following day there were sore necks from the head-banging antics brought on by the Stones' version of Get Off My Cloud and both Van Halen and The Kinks', You Really Got Me. Well, it was worth it and we vowed to make dance night a monthly get-together. The working title on this painting was The Hangin' Tree. A beautiful live oak, old as the prairie wind, punctuates this glorious cloudscape.

Green Glow 36x24

I made a new enemy this week, and a new friend. The friend's name is Mr. Vicodin. He really helped my attitude towards my new enemy, Dr. Root Canal. You know, the one who works at the local dentist's clinic. Well, Mr. Vicodin ran out on me and I suppose that's a good thing. I was getting too used to the foggy stupor of pseudo-happiness punctuated by excruciating, throbbing head pain. After a week of writhing in pain and repenting of sins unknown to even the most acutely agitated consciences, I can almost declare myself healed and the demons of my past fully exorcised. On the fumes of euphoric psychedelia I was able build a few new cloudscapes this week. Seems these were all that really came to mind as providing enough inspiration between bouts of pill popping and waiting for the arrival of my new friend. I've been enjoying these clouds lately and wondering if it wasn't about time I got good at painting them. I'll consider that and maybe make a real artist effort to stretch a bit. To that end I have added another couple of new colors to my palette...and retired a couple of others.