The Grey

The Grey

Mixed Media on Paper

30" x 22'

1750.00

There is something romantic and unerringly heartbreaking in the soft and gentle expression of the eye of a grey horse. If you have ever had a grey in your life you understand this.

This painting is composed of watercolour, 23 karat gold leaf, ink, and acrylic paint on 300 lb Saunders Waterford watercolour paper and is currently available.

 Please contact me if you are interested in acquiring this painting.

Irish Linen

Irish Linen

40" x 60"

Oil and Mixed Media on Canvas

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A few years ago I was driving down from Virginia to Carolina Horse Park. I don't remember which event it was, but it was in the spring. The weather was that particular spring mix of rainy, partially cloudy, gusty, and gloriously bright blue skies with billowy clouds. It was all that spring can be on the drive down.

I drove down primarily on two lane roads and through dozens of small towns. The farm land was starting to reveal summer's promise. The further south I was the more vibrant and alive with color the land became.

Finally I was almost there and the last hour or so of my drive made the whole trip worth it. Horse farms where everywhere. From acres and acres with large barns and fancy arenas filled with jumps to small places with a run in shed and two horses and a pony in the front yard. The grass was verdant and against fences and next to the houses the azaleas where in full bloom. Pinks, whites, and purples clustered together, and it didn't stop there.

The dogwoods in every variety and colour and size where out doing themselves. Vying as it were, for your attention with spring flowers in yellow and blue and red. It was amazing.

However the true star of this was the wisteria. That creeping, woody vine that you either love or hate. It can be impossible to cultivate in your garden or take hold and take over. This day it was climbing up telephone poles and clothing hillsides in violet. The hues were muted by veils of cloud and rain and then would be sharply revealed in shafts of clear sunlight.The racemes of purple appeared to be almost two feet long. It was stunning. It was romantic. It was a bit of the old south revealed it her fecund splendor.

My memories of that trip are all in greens, lavenders, and creams. So when this canvas started to take shape it transported me back to that spring day. I hope it transports you too.

Day One to Twenty Three; A Brief Look at the Process

The initial drawing in charcoal is always so exciting. It is like the morning, fresh and full of possibilities.

Next I commit to the lines with paint. With this paticular painting I use acrylic Van Dyke Brown mixed with a little Phthalo Blue.

The painting process begins. At first it goes quickly.

A point is reached where every mark no matter how small, every colour no matter how subtle affects the painting. This is where the conversation between painting and painter begins.

Finally, there is nothing left to be said, at least for the moment.

This painting, "Irish Linen" is off to the photographers.

Before Day One

Before I started Day One there was the unglamorous work of creating the support.

I assembled the stretcher bars and cut the canvas.

Then I stretched the canvas and stapled it to the frame.

At this point I gessoed it, waited for it to dry and sanded the surface. I do this three time.

Then I started applying thin washes of acrylic colour. I do several times until I achieve a surface that I am ready to paint on.

This all happens before Day One.

It's More than the Money

Lilies of the Field

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Yes, when someone purchases a painting or print from me I am delighted to be able to pay the heating bill for my studio, or buy more canvas, but it's more than that. It means I have made a connection. A part of the buyer has seen something that translates into a message that we both understand.

Painting isn't simply about composing some pleasing shapes and colours onto a canvas, anymore than music is about arranging some pleasing sounds. It is about communication.

As the artist my communication begins with myself. What am I interested in? Why? How do I feel about it? What lies underneath the surface? How do I express it? Am I adding anything to this conversation? These and hundreds of other questions dancing in and out of consciousness as I start to paint. One question however always stands out. What is the essence of this thing I am trying to communicate?

Eventually as I work the inner chatter quiets. I get out of the way of myself and allow inspiration to take over. I paint in a state of aware meditation, and on a good day in a state of grace.

When I am sure that my physical hand is no longer needed I place the work into the public arena. It is in this place where I will see if my art will strike a chord with another. If I have been successful in communicating that elusive nonverbal moment when you heart leaps and you are left breathless. That feeling of passion. That understanding that you are on the edge of something deep and magnificent. If I have found a kindred spirit.

So, when someone buys a piece of art I have created, yes the money is nice, but the knowing that someone understands and feels it too is beyond all riches.

Red

I am trying to figure out red. I feel compelled to work with it and want to use it in a much larger painting.

Tomorrow I will be adding more veils of color. Which ones? At the moment I have no idea.

Quite frankly, I have no idea where this is going. I feel as if I'm being led down a garden path, but where I wind up is anyones guess.

Fresh Whites!

It seems entirely fitting that yesterday we received over a foot of snow. Everything is draped in a thick coating of white and the air is fresh and clean. I cannot think of a better way to start of the New Year.

In the studio a new canvas has just received the final coat of gesso. As soon as it dries I will sand it and start adding color.

For a moment now my world is white, and still, and full of possibilities. What a gift it is to be a painter.