“Temple-Studio-Warehouse”
Oil/panel
36” x 24”
2025
I’m not sure if this is a temple or an art studio or a warehouse. And I’m not sure it matters. It is definitely a structure. I painted this in Thailand where there are an abundance of temples. They are usually elaborated and highly decorated sheds for deities….usually Buddha of course. The temples are also places of worship and veneration. An art studio is also a place for a kind of worship. Or at the very least, a place for an activity that is spiritual in nature.
But this piece also looks like a warehouse. That doesn’t seem like it fits with these other 2 more noble seeming architectural places. Well, I mention it here because while driving or in a bus in Thailand I often looked at hundreds of such buildings that flanked the major roads leading out of Bangkok and other urban areas of Thailand whizz by. They were usually abandoned warehouses for storage or some kind of industrial process, but now sat empty. I wonder constantly if these could be converted in to studios for massive art projects.
“Nipples or Schrödinger’s Cat?”
Oil/ panel
18” x12”
2025
No. Silly goose. This is an abstract painting. Those black splotches are definitely not nipples. They are too close together. Or too big. Or both. But maybe they are all you’ll see of an elusive cat.
It isn’t anything actually. But it’s just right somehow. It is said that you can’t put wind in a box or a river in a bucket. But you can see the tracks of a tremor. And if you follow those tracks fast enough you may feel the vibration.
You see, I have what is known as an essential tremor. Since I was about 6 years old or so I have had to learn how to deal with it. Holding a coffee cup on a saucer is nearly impossible. And holding a paint brush steady is beyond my grasp. But here you can see how the tremor’s mark gives this piece a vibration that is as close as anyone is going to get to feeling the wind in a box or the flow of a river in a bucket. It’s neither nipples nor a cat, but maybe this is what it looks like when the vibrations become probabilities.
“Not a Dick Print”
Oil/panel
24” x 24”
2025
Despite what it looks like, it’s not that. At least, that was not my intention. But it sure looks like it. It was created with a roller. I but a couple of blobs of black paint in a row on a roller and then rolled them out on the panel and this is what came out. This was the first mark on the white panel.
So, I rolled it again … and again and again. Subsequent rolls obliterated the image before it and eventually mountains and valleys and tree lines and rivers and lakes began to emerge. It also took on the look of multiple overlapping windows and even something that looks like a machine that is charting something like in a hospital or a geological survey station.
Eventually I added a touch or two here and there with a brush and lots of paint thinner but decided to leave the initial mark untouched.
“Ghosts of the Land”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
I painted this in Thailand. The people of Thailand feel emphatically about the spirits of the land. Their belief is that there is an aspect of the people who lived on the land before still reside there. And as such they need to be honored in order that everybody get along well. And so they set aside some space on the property for a shrine to honor the previous inhabitants. These shrines are sometimes very humble and sometimes very elaborate. But they are always maintained with daily offerings of fresh flowers, incense and sweets. Spirits that are not properly honored may create disharmony or outright haunting or negative consequences. These ghostlike beings just appeared in this painting. I did not set out to make a painting of ghosts. But I realized after painting it that the studio I am working in has no shrine to the previous tenants. Nevertheless, I think this painting may indeed be providing some of that function in its own way, even here on this website.
“Scraped and Brushed Storm”
Oil/Panel
30” x 24”
2025
“Urban Monsoon”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
“Tropical Heat”
Oil/panel
34” x 26”
2025
I painted this on a blistering hot sunny day in southern Thailand. The colors are so intense because the light is so bright there. The color of the grass and trees is really that saturated. And the whole landscape is a patchwork of open expanse chopped up with rows of dilapidated walls and and buildings that are opaque but still seriously colorful. The mountains in the distance angle out to see and appear there as islands. But the water and the Sky blend into pure color. Water condensed out of the air by air conditioners runs down the grimy windows … everywhere.
But even there, there is beauty to be found.
“Midday Scrum”
Oil/ panel
24” x 18”
2025
The rainy season in Thailand is intense. Day after day the Sky dumps rain so hard the Sky and ground blend in a sloppy wash of dark greens, black and brown with flecks of cerulean and cobalt blue. The vegetation becomes almost electric green but yields no protection from the downfall. Everything is soaked and dripping, even the undersides of gigantic leaves.
This piece was inspired by the way houses and buildings of all sorts become surrounded by shallow pools of dark water as the rain falls faster than it can drain away. The oily reflections only adding to the sense that everything is sinking into one big swampy soup of tropical muck.
My feet are always wet. And mosquitoes are legion.
But the plants are thriving and swelling towards the sky for any scrap of sunshine that makes it through. And it does….those occasional rays of light bringing the very stuff of hope that at some point this will end.
“Pattaya Storms”
Oil/panel
36” x 30”
2025
I love to get a coffee and sit along the beach where I can see the various storms coming in from sea. They tend to be no more than 10 miles or so wide. And the they appear to push the weather up in front them the way my rubber trowels lay paint down while also scooping up the paint ahead of it as I drag or push it across the painting.
Underneath these micro storms the light changes dramatically from dark purplish gray to bright yellow. Sometimes the transitions are abrupt and smatters of rain will make it look streaked and stippled. Sometimes the wind will set everything in motion. And then, suddenly, everything will be calm. And a distant rise will turn black behind the lime trees and bananas.
“Rainy Day”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
“Tropical Jungle”
Oil/panel
20” x16”
2025
“Blinding Sun”
Oil/panel
34” x 30”
2025
“Repeated Landscape”
Oil/panel
24” x 18”
2025
It isn’t immediately apparent but the landscape in this painting is repeated. It also looks a bit like one layer of the landscape is gently pealed off and reapplied upside down. And I guess it is. The landscape was created by rolling on layers of paint with two full revolutions of the brayer. The last layer was applied with the remaining paint on the brayer that was thinned with a bit of paint thinner and then rolled on the paper from the top down instead of the bottom up.
The leaf is made by applying paint directly to an actual leaf and then pressing it on the panel. It is only one level removed from gluing an actual leaf to the panel. The landscape is further removed from a real landscape. Obviously I am seeing how different representations of reality can work together to make something beautiful and shed some insight about the intersection of perception and consciousness.
Hope you like it.
“From the Air”
Oil/panel
36” x 30”
2025
I love to look out the window as my plane descends to a height where the landscape below appears as a flat tableaux of colors and patterns. Some airport approaches are more compelling than others. This was inspired by an approach to the smaller and older of the 2 airports in Bangkok.
The paint was applied heavily with various tools including metal trowels and scrappers. Each tool left its own impact on the painting. I also used the tools to remove the paint which left its own variety of marks.
This is a medium sized “easel” painting. I look forward to exploring this approach on a larger scale. The challenge is the cost of the paint. It uses 10 times the paint of my other techniques. And oil paint is still not cheap for me. Perhaps I can achieve similar effects with substances available at a building supply store at a fraction of the cost. Yes, the colors are vibrant. But when seen in real life….not on the internet as a smooth digital image, it’s the visceral texture of the piece that makes the biggest impression.
“Scraped Thoughts”
Oil/panel
30” x 25”
2025
“Conceptual Landscapes”
Oil/panel
30” x 25”
2025
“Mother In Law Tongue”
Oil/panel
30” x 22”
2025
This piece was created by painting over a painting I created a few months ago. I never considered it complete. And as such I never photographed it and put it on the site here.
But now it is, so here it is.
People often ask how I know if a painting is done or not. Of course it’s a visual evaluation of sorts. But as I get older I have come to identify a feeling that is my signal that a work of art is finished. I’m not sure if this feeling is any stronger than before or if I am just better at acknowledging it. It is a feeling of warmth that starts in my chest and spreads outward. I assume there is an actual hormonal release of some kind like when you see an old friend for the first time in a long time, or take a bite of something really delicious.
It is this physical response that is most conclusive for me. The older I get the more I ignore other factors that are more cerebral. Part of this is as I suggested earlier, I am just getting more aware of these strong but subtle feelings. But also, as I have looked at paintings carefully now for over 40 years I have a better understanding of what matters over time. Things that I “think” are not good don’t matter at all compared to that physical response of warmth and well being.
This is one of those pieces. When I look at it now I have that feeling. Here’s hoping at least a few other people get some of that from it. But even if not a single other living person on this great planet gets it, I’m still not changing a thing.
“Grasshopper Ghost”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
I did not intend to paint a grasshopper or a grasshopper ghost. But there it is. In fact, I distinctly remember thinking about an article I had just read about whales ascending upwards to capture fish in their mouths when I painted this piece. So if anything, I would have expected a whale to appear here. But hey, it’s a grasshopper, so be it. And it’s a pretty amazing grasshopper if I do say so myself.
The question I am asking myself these days is why I am not as open to what appears in my paintings when I am painting the figure. When the visage of a grasshopper appears in my abstract painting I celebrate it. Sometimes I paint over it but not because “I don’t want a grasshopper, I want a whale.” No, I paint it out because it’s not working to enhance the piece. But if I was painting a portrait and suddenly it was a cockroach I would probably paint it out even if the piece was awesome. But why? I could always start another painting. Why do I need more control over the subject in figurative painting than abstract painting? If you have any ideas I would love to hear them. Please write to me.
“Blue Sky Dusk”
Oil/panel
34” x 24”
2025
There is a certain quality of light in the tropics near the ocean when the Sky is clear and the sun has slipped below the horizon. The Sky is still bright but the land and sea are dark. And everything is bathed in blue. It’s a blue that only lasts for a moment because it’s enhanced by the rose and golden light of sunset that faded just a moment before this.
The eye adjusts and in a moment all is dark.
“Red and Green Landscape”
Oil/panel
30” x24”
2025
“Pattaya Night”
Oil/panel
24” x 24”
2025
These photos are of the same painting. The one on the left is what it looked like when I first thought it was finished. But something was bothering me about it. I couldn’t figure it out for a few days. But at some point I realized what else was needed. The photo on the right is the finished piece with the few additional changes.
If you stare at them long enough you will eventually see the differences. But I’ll help you out a little. The most notable difference is the blue and white horizontal strip across most of the piece from the left. I decided it was too energetic….too striped. So I put a wash of light blue over it. The same cerelian blue I used in the rest of the piece. This also created a square almost in the very center of the piece which also serves as an anchor or still spot. I left it striped.
Then, with the same brush I moved it over the rough parts of the dark areas and let the relatively dry paint on my brush scrape off a little on a few high points. This gave the dark areas a little more vibrancy in varied amounts. In all, it took about 2 minutes
Then, at last, I had that feeling in my chest that the piece was done. As I have written for other paintings on this website, the way I know a piece is done is that I get a feeling of warmth in my chest when I look at it. That feeling is probably some kind of hormonal release when I attain a level of deep satisfaction. I’m not a scientist but the feeling is palpable and I have learned to listen to it. Sometimes my head will tell me the painting is too this or too that. But if the feeling is there I stop.
I do various kinds of remodeling work including plumbing and carpentry. I can not consider the work done when I have a good feeling. I still need to check if the water pipes leak under pressure and the wall is plumb. But with art there are no such concerns. Instead, your head is filled with junk that often whispers the wrong things. “This piece is not as good as your last one”. Or, “my friend is not going to like this.” “What will my customers think?” I don’t listen to that crap anymore. I wait to see if my chest gets that warm feeling. And if so, I stop.
“Essential Tremor”
Oil/canvas
34” x 26”
2025
Ever since I was a child I have had tremor. Both of my hands shake all the time. Of course it gets worse when I’m nervous or hungry like everybody. But only recently at the age of 64 did I learn that what I have is called “essential tremor” and is actually very common. It is not progressive like Parkinson’s disease nor is it associated with that or any other neurological disorder or disease.
Nevertheless less it has added a challenge to making art. And it has also given me a certain advantage if I apply it correctly. For example, in this piece it allowed me to create nearly perfect rhythmic skipping of the trowel as I passed it over the canvas resulting in a beautiful and consistent yet organic patter. This is just one example of where I have learned to use my “handicap” to my advantage.
“Variable Speed Memory”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
Memories pass through the surface of my consciousness at different speeds and on different levels of clarity … usually simultaneously.
I’ll be thinking about my cousin who is in a hospital in Pittsburgh struggling with cancer while I am trying to figure out how to make adjustments to my staff’s schedule in light of someone calling in sick. While also thinking about the painting I was working on last night and worrying about whether or not I had missed my brother’s birthday. The weather is beautiful and the leaves are beginning to show the first signs of color. All of these things are passing through my mind at the same time but at different speeds and at different levels of closeness to the core of me. I think my thoughts do not know time … it is relative to other thoughts. The speed of time is a function of how a thought presents itself relative to other thoughts and how close my consciousness wants to hold it.
This painting takes a stab at trying to express that set of awarenesses.
“Yellow Figure”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
“Sunny Day”
Oil/panel
20” x 16”
2025
I am now using a variety of tools to apply paint that you would generally associate with Sheetrock work or tile setting: trowels, scrapers, notched trowels, rubberized trowels and plastic shields. These tools move large amounts of paint that either elide on top of subsequent applications or scrape through to the panel’s primer. The results are an exciting new set of expressive possibilities that capture the edgy quality of contemporary life. I also used a roller in this painting to create the mountain in the middle of the painting. But that is not new. I have been doing that for many years.
“Sunny Day”
Oil/panel
18” x 12”
2025
“Gray Water”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
“Blue Sky”
Oil/panel
20” x 16”
2025
The beauty of this piece is in all the variety of textures of paint and ways in which the various layers of paint peak through each other. But this alone would amount to little more than sharing in the beauty of something like an old plaster wall or the surface of an old wooden table. Beauties to be sure. But here they are in the service of creating the feeling of a certain landscape with certain hard to pinpoint weather conditions. And the way that nature and human activity interact to create our the visual realities of everyday life.
It’s a balancing act. Too much representation and the broader feeling is gone replaced by a simple reminder of what a particular place looks like… something done much better with a simple photo taken with my phone. But if done right, the feeling opens up to broader and more subtle expressions of what life feels like in a given area rather than what a particular place looks like.
“Kalso Park”
Oil/panel
25” x 18”
2025
“Study for a Diptych”
Oil panel
24” x 18”
2025
“Some Blue Water”
Oil/panel
24” x 20”
2025
“Orange Space”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025
“Yellow Space”
Oil/panel
30” x 24”
2025