Friday, September 26, 2014

Pedalling... or Peddling Your Passion

"Every time that I'm in the woods, I feel like I'm in church."
                                - Pete Seeger  (Folk Icon)
The Act of...   Pedalling

While the title of today's post might be at first written off as just another piece of "word smithing"
on my part... I offer it totally as some food for thought to each of you who seeks to elevate their painting processes. Think of the act of painting as being similar to riding a two wheeled bicycle. How did you begin that process of gaining the courage and skills necessary to leave your first three wheeler at the curb...  to strip off the training wheels... or to feel the joy of travelling under one's own very power? What were the stages that you passed through to enable you to travel wherever you wanted under your own power?

Firstly, it took a certain level of personal need and courage to take up the challenge... and to overcome the fear of falling. Then it took determination and perseverance over many trials... perhaps guided by someone that you trusted before you finally felt equipped and ready to solo. Painting is very similar in many respects. Few of us are complete "naturals". Most of us simply at first felt enjoyment when we were pushin' a pencil... or paint. And as with riding a bicycle... once the skill is learned, it is seldom forgotten and usually just requires a few sessions to regain our confidence and level of skill. Then riding becomes an individual self-guided journey.

However... continuing to further use the "bicycle" metaphor... few us will ever reach a level of skill to actually compete in high level bicycle racing... or ever hope to represent our country in the Olympic Games... no matter how long we pedal our butts about. It is likely most unrealistic to set ourselves up for such lofty goals. The folks that end up in this part of the bicycle spectrum are dedicated... highly motivated athletes who were quite literally... "born to ride".

This does not however, disqualify any of us from enjoying the thrill of simply "riding"... by ourselves... or with others who share our common passion for just plain "pedalling". It's healthy for the body and soul... builds character and involves adventuring... well beyond daily limits or personal expectations. Quite simply... we are better for our participation and involvement. In fact... you could even... pedal n' paint. Where might that take one??? I wonder....

Pedal on... Risk... Explore... Coast... Take time to enjoy what's around you. Set achievable goals... and hope... never to arrive. Reaching such a destination would mark the end of a magnificent journey. Keep the dreaming alive.... Just pedal on!

Peddling... Your Passion... another kind of pedalling

In my own personal experience, I offer that the success in selling one's art is dependent upon many variables. Some lie well outside our ability to control. If one hopes to successfully sell in this weak economy... one must have a special bike "to peddle"... that is not just the average. In other words... not what everyone else is peddling. There has to be some unique quality that separates one's work from others. It might be more creative use of colour... strikingly different elements of design... or perhaps a unique handling of paint. Whatever... it must separate you from the "ordinary"... or the visions of others.

Identify what you have an earnest passion for. If it is landscape...then paint... read and totally immerse yourself in landscape to gain a full understanding of your subject. Come at it using different techniques... in different times of the day and with changes in lighting. Try painting the same place in other seasons. Shuffle the deck. And above all... do find pleasant weather to try your hand at painting en plein air. Nature is the most inspiring and patient teacher.

Not every painting we make is worth sharing... let alone placing it in the market place ... whether at a fair... or on a blog or web site. Some paintings are only exercises... whose truest value lies only in interpretation of the mistakes we have made. Take the courage to "make them disappear"... by your own hand after you have had ample time to study them and reach the conclusion that they deserve..."a thumbs down". Place only your best in your sales department. If you painted it with passion and feel pride that your name is on it... then likely those feelings will be translated and understood by potential clients and viewers... deeming it saleable. Viewers will admire and want it for the very reason that you painted it.

Shifting gears from painting butter tarts... to radishes and onions... then on to pets you have never seen... except in a photo really do little more than to fill time for a day. The question to be asked in my mind... is. What does my painting say to my viewer? Does it speak of a feeling deeply and passionately held within me Does it encourage participation beyond seeing it as another pretty picture? Is it evocative... provocative... active... ???

What I am offering in this post is simply "food for thought". Perhaps there might be a phrase that might help you in your struggle to pedal... and peddle... your very own two wheeler. I mean not to be in any fashion or terms judgemental. I merely wish to offer a view that has served me well on my long journey. The fact that I still go out to painting with joy... and receive ample "reward"... be it in $$$... or in compliments from people from all walks of life when they visit our Gallery. Those gifts serve to motivate me further in following... and sharing my path with those who are of kindred spirit with my own.

I'll end today's post with this profound passage from author Julia Cameron's inspirational creative hymnal "Heart Steps" first published in 1997. I found it closely matched my own artistic and spiritual beliefs.

"We are ourselves creations. We are meant to continue creativity by being creative ourselves. This is the God-Force extending itself through us. Creativity is God's gift to us. Being creative is our gift back to God."

Do paint with your heart... joyously... in your own image. Be proud of your achievements... but maintain humility. It too... is a necessary tool in the artists painting kit.

Here is an island setting and view that for half a century has served as personal marker which I have used to orient myself on my inner GPS. It served to mark my return to this place I call home... and it served to bid me goodbye as I glanced at it when I had ever to depart. All of this will soon disappear. This beautiful piece of white clad river heritage will very soon succumb to new change afoot all along this side of the Saint Lawrence. Some cash-fat "Daddy Warbucks" will soon have "his way" with the foot print left ... after this century-old architectural face on the River is flattened and scooped off to the local waste disposal site. That's the way it goes these days... up n' down the shoreline. Money speaks... as it always has... and Time pushes on by. Only the River itself continues its rythmn... and "they" are even playing with that too.

"Ridin' out the Storm... at Big and Little 99" - oil on canvas 10x12 inches

This is the first of a couple of smaller paintings that I wish to make to record its having been here. The white clad wooden boathouse was the "offing" point to countless Island adventures for all of the earlier residents and their guests for well over a century. A childhood chum of mine had resided in and took care of this property for half of his lifetime... only to be given an abrupt and totally unexpected "pink slip"... and an order to vacate within a month. This was not "the way of the River"... as I have known it. Property owners long honoured the special service of their caretakers and caregivers with the promise of a guaranteed life time of accommodation and security. Things have sadly changed. A handshake no longer can be expected to seal a promise or a deal. Where did honour go? I wonder.....

The two small islands are known to locals as "Little and Big 99". Little 99 barely qualifies to rightfully assume the title island. An island must ahve a least one tree growing on it to be offered this distinction and place in the famous "Thousand" count. I feel that their proximity to this river heritage offers my belief that it is indeed possible for Man and Nature to coexist in harmony - provided Man's arrogance and predisposition toi controlling nature at his whim can be moderated.

Just one ol' dude's rant... but it's my Truth.... and I choose to speak it and live by it!

Happy Fall... and Good Painting... to  all!

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Overcoming... "Rainy Day Feelings..."

Fall has most certainly arrived in The Thousand Islands region. The sharp nip in the morning air prompts many to "un-garden"... and others to close summer retreats. River traffic has dwindled down to weekends and many of the larger yachts can already be seen up on blocks... plastic-wrapped and ready for winter. Canada Geese have become noisy in the early morning and the loons more vocal as each night fades away. Hardwood trees in the area have already shown signs of their annual autumn blush. The wheel has turned.

The past weekend was to have been the 4th Annual Rockport International Paint Out. It never took place. Chalk it up to poor planning... or to the growing apathy in the painting world as a result of economic down turn. There seemed little interest to proceed with this gathering of artists. It matters little to me... whatever the cause. Life is about attitude and choices - one's own!

I had invited two good painting pals to come to the event as our house guests. Frank Edwards, of nearby Kingston has been my painting companion and friend for close to forty years. Paul Taylor and his lovely wife June of Rochester, NY are recent new friends. Paul and his clan have a camp up river a scant few kilometers and have been coming up to the river... as my family has every summer that he can remember. We share much in common... especially our passion for the river and painting.

We decided to hold our very own Rockport Paint Out anyway. The weather sure tried its darnedest to "rain on our parade"... but all of us share a similar passion for painting and a determination to do so... no matter the weather. Paul works in watercolour and acrylics and is a "newbie" to plein air painting. I think that being with me for those few times that we have painted together on location has more than convinced him of its value in "loosening up" and increasing confidence and speed of brushwork.

Day One.... "Singing in the rain..."

Deb provided a wonderful breakfast start for us... serving up plenty o' hot coffee... a delectable quiche... Canadian back bacon (pea meal) and toast with Tar Island summer resident, Jill Reynolds' homemade blackberry jam to fortify our painting spirits in the face of what appeared to be very "iffy" and highly threatening weather... right from the onset of Saturday's session. Paul searched out dry and covered niches within the village... while Frank and I headed to a site that I had scouted and gotten permission to paint near Ivy Lea. Anticipating rain before the end of our session... we were set up ... both of us with an easel leg in the trunk of my Dodge Caravan...  its lid acting as a sort of roof/umbrella over us.

Even that offered us only temporary protection necessary to keep that dreaded water from our panels and palettes. Both of us were approaching the lay in stage when the driving rain out of the south east brought our painting session to an abrupt halt. Needless to say, that event dampened our dreams and actions for carry back a full painting. But it could not dampen our determination to make something positive out of the negative.... fully away from the scene a few days later. Frank successfully completed his version at his regular Tuesday morning painting group. Mine was completed yesterday... "en plein air"... outside the Gallery as visitors came and went during the afternoon.

I offer two jpegs to further demonstrate the value of actually starting a painting/sketch on site. Whether it is fully completed there, or it is completed after the fact need not take away from the freshness gained outdoors. If one compares the final outcome of this first effort to the results shown in the second painting of the weekend... I think you will agree that my stylism is maintained and is comparable in both paintings.

Called... on account of rain! At this juncture... everything in terms of structure and enough detail for the intended subject is in place. What remains is the "pushin n' pullin" ... to heighten detail and to correct value passages across the entire painting surface. I felt more than comfortable to have this information to work with further after our unplanned premature departure.

This is the point where the background information and subject information support has been completed so that the subject now sits comfortably in the composition. All that remains to be dealt with is some minor attention to the empty foreground and  more attention given to the water movement and reflections.

Mission accomplished!...

"The Tug Blue Quail... Safely at Anchor, Ivy Lea - oil on panel 11x14 inches  SOLD

Day Two  .... Just another day in Paradise!

Frank had to return to Kingston on Saturday evening, so Paul and I agreed to partner up back in Ivy Lea village on Sunday morning for a plein air session before he had to head back across the river to Rochester. He had unfortunately been shut out completely the day previous... his water colour game...called because of rain and the too dark conditions of the boathouse he had set up in. Unfortunately, no plan "B" is possible for outdoor painting in watercolour on rainy days!

I again has scouted out this scene and we were automatically given permission to paint on the property by the owner of the cottage rental property by the affable EricTruesdell... known affectionately by Ivy Lea village residents as "The Mayor of Ivy Lea". His knowledge of the village and its history spans his entire lifetime of eighty plus years as a resident. Another valuable asset one gains from actually painting on site!

Though the temperature had dipped greatly and I thought might have hampered Paul's water colouring... it had little or no effect on the final outcome for either of us. We both came away with great paintings. I believe that my square cradle board sketch captures the mood and the moment during which Paul and I painted there together. I firmly believe as well... that its style quite evenly compares to the Blue Quail piece painted the previous day... half on site...  and then completed fully away from the actual site... two days later.

"September Song... Ivy Lea" - oil on cradle board 12x12 inches

In concluding my post this morning... I will share that this time of the year on my River is yes... plaintive for me personally to some degree because it hearkens to the fifty odd seasons that our family closed our cottage for another season. It echoes my Mom's words spoken each year... as she stood looking out from our property towards Tar Island: "I wonder who will be opening the cottage next year?"

I watch daily as other "summer folk" stand at Andress Boat Works dock... bags behind them ... awaiting their car pick up. Their wistful last long look at the river that they too love dearly... again echoes my Mom's refrain... now present only in my memory... and pulls the strings upon my own heart. This painting... I feel.... is truly our common "September Song".

Good Painting... to All!

"The memory is the scribe of the soul."


Thursday, September 11, 2014

Project (a noun) Peace... or Project (a verb) Peace!... Your Choice!

I had originally planned to write this post yesterday... but a pleasant change necessitated my delaying until this morning. It is not often that we have the opportunity to spend the evening with my two daughters together. Both of these joys of my life lead very busy lives... in places far afield from Rockport... so putting my writing on hold was an easy change/choice to make. My side still hurts this morning from the laughing and tom-foolery that we enjoyed together... but my heart no longer aches to see their faces ... or to hug and kiss them. I am deeply blessed... and deeply proud to have such fine young women as daughters!

Ironically, the origins for my initial post interest and topic surrounded the topic of change... as it applies to both my personal and artistic life. Those first thoughts before I actually sat down to write arrived in the still dark, pre-dawn hours of Tuesday... down at my dockside bench at the river's edge where... each day I enjoy my first cup o' java and await the first glimmer of light for the new day. Not a creature was stirring... nary an engine noise from the river to the south. Strange... after so many such visits that I could find new things... or better... things that I had overlooked in previous morning meditations. For the first time really... my eyes left my usual focus and preoccupation with the river and the familiar galleon-like island armada of silhouettes directly to the south.

The faint... but steady breeze out of the south soothed me so that I closed my eyes momentarily and shifted to smelling the air. There was a distinct and very different river fragrance... one that I have been privileged to experience over my lifetime... and one that for certain heralded the unmistakable entry of fall into these parts.

As I slowly opened my eyes, my glance was skyward. Above me ... directly overhead was another "old friend"... exactly where he should be at this time of the year. When one "trips" in wilderness areas... bereft of the light pollution which effects most areas near and around urban centres... one become exceedingly aware of the hidden magic of the night sky. Phenomena like the Milky Way... Aurora Borealis... meteor showers... and even the passage of air traffic and satellites offer evening entertainment reserved for the very few who step away even briefly from modernity.

Above me was the constellation Orion... "the hunter"... distinguishable by his two cock-eyed shoulder stars... but more by his three star "belt" and a knee to the lower right... and scabbard star low to the left. I well remember my introduction to Orion by my London Teacher's College Master,Mr. Brendon in his Science program. His astronomy lectures both dazzled and acquainted me with the wonders of the night sky and included many unforgettable others like Draco the Dragon... the Sister star cluster the Pleiades... Ursa Major and Minor... and of course... Polaris, the North Star - the navigational constant in the northern sky which guides all travellers and navigators whether on land or on the sea.

My attention was completely focused upon the still inky darkness above me. As I continued my watch quietly, I became ever more aware of how slyly morning strips away the darkness... and how one by one... each constellation disappears ever so gradually... star by star. It is indeed a magical time and a relevant visual example of gradual change occurring. Complete darkness gradually fell into the glory of full light. It points out how that kind of change... even in  our own life would be so much easier to adjust to... as opposed to jumping from the frying pan into the fire... or in shifting and changing our artistic styles like changing socks. Change should indeed be the goal in our lives... but it is the adapting to it that presents the most difficulty. It should be a process trial and learn...and not flip-flop... haphazard wandering.

In  my own work process, I do seek out new ideas and experiment with varied medias... subject matter and tools to work with. I value value critical advice from a few trusted and selective individuals. Rarely... do I make a change in a piece of my work without pondering such an intervention. In my own value set, my art is a deeply felt form of expression... one which I have cultivated as my own garden. I take great pride in the outcome... the achieving a state of finish for the problem presented in every work. Most often... the advice disappears ever so gradually in the process of contemplation... just as dawn displaces darkness. I hang on to my values.

All summer I have been staring at one particular painting in the Gallery... trying to summon up the courage to initiate a change to an area in the painting that troubled me. But I didn't know where to start. Many people commented upon its intrinsic beauty and the solitude that it depicted... but the compliment seemed aways to trail off with each viewer saying ... "But something isn't right in it - perhaps its too dark."

My art historian daughter Allison came to visit last week and accompanied Deb and I to tour and see new works. "Oh... this big one is new Dad - a lovely river scene. Where is the setting?" After explaining the exact location... she returned to her critique by adding: "There's one bothersome part of your painting... that for me lessens its strength and appeal. Do you want a a tip?"

My response was a rather deflated and half-hearted... "Yes"... because I very much trust her eye... her vast knowledge... and her good heart. I do look for her approval. She has always been a champion of my work... as has been Deb. Both have seen enough of my work to merit my respecting their opinion... and to encourage revisiting my reasons for excluding the sun. I think in retrospect, that perhaps its presence likely was suggested by Vincent... once again "whispering in my ear"... He does you know!

"Get rid of that sun Dad. I know what you were meaning to say... I get that. But it drags my eye away from what you really wanted to say... don't you think?" Deb immediately threw in her shovelful of support... it had been her complaint as well. I had long fended off changing.... but one week after that eventful discussion... I weighed in the criticisms with my own previous reservations and decided to relent... to change my viewpoint.

I hastily set up the canvas on my easel outside the Gallery.... and simply went at it. But I promised myself from the start that I would not repaint the entire painting. I would edge into the change gradually to remove the "offensive" sun and  perhaps shift the lighting slightly to manipulate another take on the light and shade interplay which holds the picture together. A few value changes in the foreground dark pine to break up the too distracting dark masses of shade were the last changes made.

I will leave you to judge the success of the undertaking for yourself based upon a comparison of the before and after jpegs. It can be said that the other two critics... have been silenced... and satisfied.... as have I. Thank you Allison and Deb... for fuelling lift off... and for being... "the third eye".

                                First Impression - "River Magic" - 40x30 inch oil on gallery wrapped canvas

In closing today's post, I have decided to extend the change even further... given food for thought that I "dined on" during my grocery trip to Gananoque this morning. I always listen to my local WNPR classical music station when driving alone... both for the lilting music and for the thoughtful commentary. I find both soothing and inspiring.

The commentary that I listened to triggered a memory that exactly thirteen years ago today... at 8:46 am, I was returning from Midland to my home in Kingston following a visit with my friends John and Carol. It was, of course that very apocalyptic 911 moment in every one's life... when the world at large too suddenly changed and became so disorienting and filled with confusion for all of us. It as well changed the world that each of us would personally live in from that moment onward... forever. Those effects of that moment... today... are never more obvious than when we enter and return on trips from Canada to the US.

While it was a devastatingly shocking and an outrageously inhuman atrocity against innocents... it was for me an epiphany of sorts. That single act of terror and unequivocal evil... strangely flooded my being with a sense of Peace and resolve to appreciate my blessing of life each and every day forward from that moment in time. It offered a powerful reason to embrace Hope... rather than fear and Hope-less-ness. I truly believe that each of the thousands of victims might agree with such an approach.

If each of us can hold out our own candle of Light...and Hope... together... we WILL extinguish whatever evil and state of Darkness which besets us. I am changing the title of this painting to "Requiem"... in honour of all of the victims of 911... their loved ones... and the countless number of young people who have served... or have offered up their tomorrows and dreams in foreign theaters to preserve our right to Peace and Freedom... wherever we live. Thank you...

This painting project is but one of many in my long career. I am truly hoping that the newer version helps to project to each of my friends who read this... a greater feeling of Hope... Peace... and a willingness to risk change in their own lives and art. Rich blessings to all!

Much Peace...                                                    SOLD
And Good Painting ... to ALL!

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Sweet Hour of Prayer....

"Sweet hour of prayer... sweet hour of prayer
That calls me from a world of care..."

This morning at 5:00 am...  I took my coffee to a chair on the deck overlooking a still darkened river scape... soundless... except for the pleasant drone of cricket choir and an intermittent robin voice here... a cardinal there... and the plaintive cries of several gulls... somewhere on the placid river in front of me. This hour of "prayer" is for me a daily ritual... as necessary and as meditative to my spirit as the practice of going to church is to most practising Christian homes... or to any other religion of the world... no matter how "God" is worshipped. I was taught... from the beginning... how to listen... smell and to see and to interact with  the Natural World with reverence and awe by my Mom.

These first lines of an old hymn were sung many times by my family... and the hymn was a favourite of my Mom. Her Faith and Trust practised while I watched unobserved as a child...forms the cornerstone of my ongoing basis for Faith ... Hope and Trust. Combined with my Dad's reverence for Free Thought and Speech... his "stick-to-it-ive-ness" and his generous spirit, I aspire to conduct my own journey (adding my own upgrades)... in a fashion that "might" serve others... and that "I" might receive the love and respect of my friends and children... even after I have too... passed.

Today is my Mom's birthday. That fact triggered my remembrance of those opening lines to this post. I will add her flowers... "Mums"...  to those I placed for Dad on August 16th at their quiet resting place under the arms of an old white pine at Oakland Cemetery. That act will be followed by yet another few minutes of solitude and sweet moments of prayer. I visit with Deb often. She too shares my love and respect for them... knowing too, that their gifts and blessings to "Me" helped shape and forge the very shared values under which "She" and "I" choose to live our lives together.

Today... they both will be in my thoughts... and my own prayers... offered in the most opulent of cathedrals... Creation itself. Let's call it... "plein air prayer." Perhaps you now might understand... that  my own doxology... my connection to my Father...Creator and God lies within each of my paintings. Each and every one is a hymn... a psalm of praise and gratefulness for the life and the parents I have been blessed with. My heart is my purse... and I carry them... and their precious gift with Me everywhere I go. And like them... I aspire to share them with those I meet... who can understand.

I am deeply blessed!...

Enjoy the richness of Eternal Life and Life together Mom and Dad. I' ll love you BOTH... Forever!

"We'll meet again,
Don't know where,
Don't know when,
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do,
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds, far away."

1939 War War II Favourite 
Written by Ross Parker and Hughie Charles
Performed by Vera Lynn

Keep Smilin!... and
Good Painting ... to ALL!

"August... on my mind" - oil on canvas 18x14 inches

Prohibition Days get up. Everyone who knows our family well... says that I look like my Dad. That greatly warms my heart... and makes m smile. Would "Him" too... I think!

Prohibitionist... Exhibitionists... "Ave yer ever bin to sea Matey?" HA HA!!

While the weather was too foul the entire weekend to paint en plein air... I did manage this little cartoonish ditty for the kids play section of the festivities. Deb and I were the first "kids" to have our picture taken... but not the last!

Friday, August 15, 2014

Living... and Painting... in Transition

August... by its very position in the natural seasonal cycle suggests an expectation of transition. Though that transition usually seeps in slowly like fog... as Sandburg graphically in his epic poem suggests... "on little cat feet"... it seems less fuzzy and grey this August than is usually the case. Perhaps, it has been the reluctance of summer to actually fully appear in her full heat and beehive busy-ness. That fact likely causes August to appear to skip more than a few beats...and to launch fully into fall. No matter... fall with its cooler nights and heavy, dewy mornings is definitely in the air in Rockport.

As I drive the back roads to and fro on errands and in search of painting material (both occur simultaneously for me)... the wildflower natural gardens alongside every road add further "cred" to the previous paragraph. Day Lily, Chicory, Milk Weed, Queen Anne's Lace, Golden Rod, New England Aster and Joe Pie Weed are in full flower together signalling the last strains of the summer symphony of wildflower splendour which wave upon wave... add richness and colour to leas and fallow fields.

This favourite painting of mine aptly entitled "Summer's Transition" clearly addresses the joy that this period offers to me. Collectively... these late summer blooms join together to create Summer's final fanfare. They make me aware that transition is underway and that preparations are to be made. My thoughts drift towards acquiring dry firewood... before the supply is suddenly gobbled up by frenzied buyers in October. That search is on for me!

On a more personal level... August was traditional month on the Sherman cottage calendar for the meeting of the clan at our cottage to celebrate three birthdays. August 16th is my Dad's birth date... August 19th is my sister Chris's and August 21st is circled to honour my Mom's birth. Making the transition from life to death has necessitated a change in our August celebration. No longer do we gather at Shangra-Lai. It has long been sold. Neither are my parents present to be feted in person. My sister lives miles away... in more ways than I care to admit... so my celebration is reduced ... out of necessity to a quiet personal visit to Oakland Cemetery to place flowers as my ongoing tribute to the memories they created during our family life together.

Gone... but never forgotten!

"August... on my Mind" is an oil on canvas 18x14 inches. This "stillie" clearly embodies my memory fragments of past Augusts to include the ever-present "Mom" wildflower  bouquets and the "Dad" cornucopia of succulent peaches... sweet corn and melon. The carefully injected card from my Dad's "Inner Sanctum" basement hideaway... says it all... "Keep Smilin'"!

"Thank You... for the Music!". is yet another tribute to the gift of music that our folks left us to pass forward... as each of us has in his or her own fashion. The painting now hangs in my son Andrew's home. Hoping that he will pass it forward and make it a part of Wee Mac's journey. Life's a whole lot easier to bear... when you carry a song in your heart... and on your lips!

"....And the Beat goes on!" Thank you... both... for the Music I still treasure and listen to!

I will be out there painting en plein air  this weekend in the company of my ol' paintin' buddy Frank here in the village. It's "Prohibition Days" Weekend here in the village - a big deal! Another kind of celebration...

But that's another story... for another post! Stay tuned...

On a closing note... I offer this salute to another pal of mine... through thick and thin:


Sometimes... Peace lies "out there.. where no man has gone before"

"Nanoo... Nanoo!"...  Good Day and...

Good ALL!!

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

From Mork... to Eternity

                                                           Robin Williams (1951 - 2014)

"No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me... because you saw a painting of mine"

"Good Will Hunting"

How sad am I this morning ... to learn of Robin William's passing. While it came suddenly like a lightning bolt out of the blue to the world of his admirers... it's occurrence comes not quite as a complete surprise. Robin was a complex individual. He was at times a community of personalities embedded in one body... with each trying to emerge and to separate from the others. Such a conflict cannot be understood... except by those who themselves have lived for too long in the shadow of that curse. Strangely... insanity and creative genius seem to share the same bed.

The words of Bobby Goldsboro's 1964 first hit... "See the Funny Little Clown" best summarize the plight of such individuals:

See the funny little clown
The way he smiles all the time.
No one knows he's cryin'...
No one knows he's dyin...
On the inside
No one knows... No one knows

Those lyrics are not so true in my own case in these latter years. I felt the truth of them... as I played and sang those lyrics myself in 1964. I have come to understand them well... and better than most. Sometimes "the gift"... can ironically... and in the same breath... be "the curse" in one's existence. Too often... the laughing face on the outside in no way resembles actual deep and relentlessly searing pain of the interior resident.

I have found ... or perhaps better choice of words... "made" Peace with my Self. Fortunately, for "Me"... years of therapy.... a medication regimen that works for me... my Art... the consistent influence and love of key family members... and now Deb have encouraged me to step off the gerbil wheel... and "to be".. just Bruce! No need to be everything and everyone else I had convinced myself was required of me.

"I"... am greatly blessed!

I leave these words I penned as a eulogy that I delivered at the funeral of a best friend nearly thirty years ago... as a personal tribute to Robin. They are appropriate for both occasions:

Shooting Star

Suddenly -
Across the darkened fabric of Infinity,
Defying the limitless blackness... mattering not about being seen.
Bent upon a brief... yet blazing journey -


But etched forever into the hearts and Being...
Of Those... who search together for Light
And Truth.


"Some people can never believe in themselves... until someone believes in them."

-"Good Will Hunting"

Share your Light.... and Love!

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

August Ambrosia

As I stepped out into the cool morning air for my customary jaunt down to the dock to greet the day... my nostrils were immediately filled with a new smell. A new smell... because my "smeller" and all of my other body parts and brain have been cloistered... and too fully engaged in the completion of a challenging and very overdue commission.

Each month has its own smell for me. Each, as well has an association with change(s) that makes it different than any of the other months. Those associations have been formed and burnt into my psyche over a lifetime of being "One" with the outdoor world. They are not based upon science... but rather my own thoughts and experiences. They are triggers... which reliably repeat and evoke memories and creative painting responses from deep in my Self.

The fragrance of the juggernaut July is chocked full of the energy of growth... freshly mowed hay... green grain fields giving way to rich carpets of fluttering gold... suddenly tall... ripening and  heading up corn... the lemony leaf smell of now bulging tomato plants. This perfume is likely heightened and blended by the deep humidity of days and nights of unrelenting heat, July... quite simply smells of energy... strengthened by visual imagery that tells one that summer is on the move. I'd name the fragrance ... "Ambush"... because it sneaks up on the senses so suddenly and without warning.

On this grey... mist-shrouded August morn, I marvelled at how precisely the natural clock moves. The ever-on-time darkish platoon of red-breasted cormorants sweep soundlessly  by me on the outside dock... wings barely above the placid grey... which is the river this morning. Chattering and excited young barn swallows... flitting and fledging in obvious games of tag... show their new wings and provide their annual late summer aerial display. This to me, is always a sure sign that summer is waning... and they will soon be "Birds on the Wire"... communing before their long flight southward.

The smell in the air this morning is changed. It is an acrid fragrance which melds growth and decay simultaneously. The river smell... of fish and aquatic vegetation ... with an added pinch of the garden's floral down turn... all cooled by the dew and mist of this typical August start for the day create a new perfume... well known to me. I'd call it "Ambrosia"... a nostalgic delight... a bitter-sweet fragrance which both greets the possibility of fall... and bids goodbye to summer in the same breath.

The Commission Project

Now that I have conveyed the notion... true... that I am a bit blood hound by nature... I will get back to the painting aspect of this post. I have spent a very challenging week getting my head around what was necessary to get me to the easel to complete my commission. There exists an irony surrounding commission work. Firstly... a commission must be viewed as a compliment from a patron who views your work to be good enough to invest in engaging your services. A plus!

Then... there exists the other side of the coin. Most commissions... like many emails... come with "attachments". These attachments are quite simply guidelines which include their own preferences and tastes. That is to be expected... since the piece will hang in their space.... and they are paying for your services. All legitimate realities one must consider in undertaking a commission. I came across this tidbit this morning in Robert Genn's Bi-Weekly Newsletter... a constant source of enlightenment and insight for me.

"You need freedom in order to create, and you need creativity in order to pay the price for your Freedom."

Robert Genn's Bi-weekly Newsletter
August 5th, 2014

I am deeply grateful for commissions because they challenge me to step up artistically... and to depart the safety of my own artistic "certainty" to learn and to grow further. However... I must confess, that I never quite enter into the commission under full steam. I must find stimuli that excite me to overcome an inward feeling that "I"... am not in full control of my creativity. Art has been the only area of my life where Freedom wasn't a word... It was in fact a sanctuary where I could retreat to... when the world would hurt me... or the din was too much for my spirit. I often say... that my Art... "leadeth me beside still waters.. and  that has ways been so.

This commission is a panoramic format. In that panorama are included a plethora of shapes, details and personal statements... all housed in this vast landscape. The client wanted the panorama to depict an autumn sunset... which really is an event that the owners consider special in their lives. The trick would be to simplify... yet, without losing important markers which make this scene exclusive to this exquisite and unique riverside property.

In order to sort all of this out, I first began by physically"cut n' pasting the desired sections I wanted to use from three separate digital images. Again... I was out of my zone of comfort. But, the fact was... that I couldn't gather more exact images at the actual site because the painting was to be a surprise gift for the property owners from their good friends and neighbours. Here's the mock up that I worked from.

I reluctantly decided to use pencil to actually lay in a map for the painting to follow. I did so ... against my usual urge to get right into painting... because of the complexity of the scene. In that way ... I could add and subtract until I reached an acceptable place to begin. The drawing took me almost the better part of a day to get everything properly placed. I decided to "fix" the drawing using retouch varnish so that it would not be lost during the transition from toning to final painting.

Disaster strikes!.....

It was my plan to proceed at this juncture... by working up a tonal rough in as I often do using burnt sienna,  "blocking in" shapes and important compositional elements and line. That familiar practice gave me a huge lift of spirit. I could finally see a path through to the finish. My "vision" of the finalized work was in my mind's eye! This reminds me of a quote Bob Dylan made when writing and recording his masterwork "Blonde on Blonde":

"The closest I ever got to the sound I hear in my head was on the individual tracks in the Blonde on Blonde album. It's that thin, that wild mercury sound".

I'm sure as creative artists.... we have all yearned for that moment when all the world is right. In my own case, I refer to those halcyon moments... "when a  painting just seems to paint itself and I just hold the brush." Everything seems to fall into place without any struggle.... the act of painting seems seamless.

The opposite happened at this point in this commission. The wheels simply feel off the wagon... caused by a critical error that I had made in the second stage. I knew better... but had laid the acrylic over the retouch varnish which I had applied to "fix" the drawing. The huge problem before me became obvious immediately when I began the applying the initial washes of oil on turpentine washes. The turpentine was removing the acrylic burnt sienna as fast as I laid it down. What to do... other than be angry at myself... and panic?

I decided to preserve the drawing by redoing it lightly in India ink... trace amounts to hold the drawing as I gave the entire canvas a turpentine bath to remove every bit of the acrylic tone and the varnish at the same time. It was a risk... but I had no choice but to get back to the canvas and begin the process again in pure paint that would adhere to the canvas and not cause later problems in the hands of the client.

The process from this point forward and to the end followed a familiar path and the commission gradually started to become encouraging... and fun again... as the scene began to emerge in the gradual addition of each area and finally into full focus. Once I completed the necessary balancing act to unite the  sunset sky to the water and the island tree foliage... I sensed the "vision" that connected both the client's wishes with my own inner vision of this landscape.

Glazing with washes is a slow  and tedious process... but the final results achieved...  more than compensate for the time spent. Values can be checked and altered quickly and accurately as you go.

... and "the light" can be turned on... ever so slowly to almost mimic the rising or setting sun's lighting show... the dimming of the day... that wonderful yet elusive to paint... afterglow.

As I sat looking at the [almost] complete canvas... pondering value checks and balances... edges... the usual last notes in the process... my eye kept being drawn to the too centrally located fir which seemed to over dominate the composition with its presence. I thought about moving it slightly left or right... but knew that such a move when  reshape and overcrowd  reality in either direction. Removing it entirely would leave the client feeling something was missing.

Here  is the "solution" I came up with... one that I feel works to resolve this visual conundrum. I carefully placed and added the Uncle Sam's Cruise Line's replica river steamer... out of Alexandria Bay, NY which I have watched ply these waters at this very time in the evening. It's unique and fancifully nostalgic structure is pure "River Magic"... and adds just enough additional weight to the left of... and inb combination with the fir to appear the draw that mass slightly to the left in weight . It's stark whiteness as well offers a compositional element to drive the eye along the water westward to the distant islands.


Here is the final canvas... "River Magic" - oil on canvas 16x32 inches. The physical magic of each River sunrise and sunset can only be rivalled by the pure magic one feels at the conclusion of a creative challenge.
This morning, I feel a weight lifted... and my creative spirit Up!.... lifted. Now, I can resume my outdoor work and adventuring.

I"... am greatly blessed!..... Stay tuned

A closing note about those nasty "rules"... worth remembering... and practising. From the mouth and Soul of the XIV Dalai Lama:

"Know the rules well, so that you can effectively break them."

Have fun breaking some rules.... PLAY!  The Inner Child knows comformity - NOT!

Good Painting... to ALL!