Every season has a uniqueness that inspires me. But it’s the change of seasons that I find most stimulating. This painting, from a few years back, was made at the end of a dry summer, just when the canopy of leaves was starting to turn. The small pond is a couple miles north of Bigfork, Montana, just east of my studio.
When I’m close to bringing a painting to the finish line I like to take a long, careful look. After years of painting, and years of looking at paintings, I recognize four elements that I’ve come to recognize as important, if not essential for me. Those four are: thick paint against thin paint, warm colors next to cool colors, light against dark, and soft edge next to hard edge.
I believe it’s never an unwise decision for anyone involved in a creative endeavor to, from time to time, get out of their comfort zone and see what happens! I’ve taken a leap out of my comfort zone recently by beginning work on paintings for an upcoming small works show at Ventana Fine Art. I love to paint big!
I recently ran into an old friend of mine who is a wonderfully dedicated fruit grower. He just might be the hardest working guy I know. For part of the year! He has hundreds of trees on the east shore of Flathead Lake just south of my studio. I mentioned that I’d done a painting of his orchard. He mentioned that he didn’t know that. So I thought I’d post a picture.
Sometimes a simple, highly abstract depiction of the landscape resonates for me. In this painting I feel a less literal approach to the subject captures the spirit of the place better than a more highly detailed version could. This tells the story effectively, nothing more required.
I know from years of art making experience that I can paint the life out of a picture effortlessly! The challenge is working only until the art speaks. First to me, and then, hopefully, to the viewer. The tricky question is when to quit.
When I travel I tend to repeatedly visit locations where inspiration has found me! One of my favorites is this lovely spot along the San Miguel River just at the end of Colorado Avenue in downtown Telluride. For this recently completed commission I was asked to try working in uncharacteristically (for me) dark tones. As I began painting the aspen foliage it occurred to me that it would be interesting to think in terms of complementary colors while working out the color composition.
I try to pay attention to those nudges of inspiration that come to me as I’m working. And so, instead of a more literal depiction of aspen leaves in shades of yellow-green, green, and blue-green I loaded my brush with shades of red-violet, red, and red-orange. This is definitely working for me. What do you think? Let’s keep in touch,
I’m certain I could not have painted “Birch Grove Drive, Spring Forsythia” at any time of year other than spring. I believe that every work I create captures a moment in my sensibility. And I confess I’m happily in a spring state of mind these days.
New growth, warmer sunshine, longer days. Every change in the season invariably provides me with an extra jolt of creativity. Kind of a seasonal double espresso. I’m awake!
Time spent in Telluride never fails to result in the creation of inspiring sketches. Here’s a painting done from one I made a fall or two ago just south of town.
I know a painting is on the right track when I can recall the weather when looking at the work. Does that make sense? In this piece I can feel the cold, crisp, calm early morning air, just before the sun rose above the horizon and raked across the face of the snow covered peak. Let’s keep in touch,
I find myself frequently concentrating on elements of the landscape that exist beneath the sky. Consequently the horizon ends up quite high in my paintings. I think that approach to composition adds a sense of intimacy and a feeling of “being there.”
“Western Skyline” on the other hand is all about the glorious Colorado sky! Join me Thursday, January 2, from 5-8pm at Slate Gray Gallery in Telluride to take a look at the actual painting. I’d be happy to see you!
Sometimes all it takes for me to begin a painting is the notion that one color might look interesting next to another color. But recently I came across a group of pastel sketches I’d done on one of my dozens of trips to Telluride. And I decided it was about time I explored the Colorado landscape a bit more specifically. The pantings in these, my newest works, are about my enduring infatuation with color. But more than that, they are my exaltation of what are, certainly, some of the most iconic landscapes in the American West.