Slapped the Paint on - Pushed it Around

Funny thing here. We all know the moment when things change. The momentum in the studio is at a low ebb . . . . you waste time making silly daub marks on a painting which needs real help, not silly band-aids with a Number 2 flat. Do I make tea and check out some art books or do I scrape my palette clean to get ready for tomorrow? Quitting time? . . .hmmmm . . .painting time? . . . hmmmmm. Indecision and insecurity time . . . absolutely. I laid out a lot of color this morning, good juicy squeezes from my big-ass Utrecht tubes. The paint sits there taunting me with possibilities. I feel tired, but, hey, not THAT tired. Am I cooking dinner tonight? Do I need to clean up? What have I got left in me. My last playlist has expired on my iPod. I couldn't find inspiration at that moment if it hit me over the head. Is this procrastination or am I being realistic. One thing is clear. I'm thinking too much.

My old buddy Brad Faegre knew what to do at this moment. Load a brush and start a new one! Great in concept but I'm turning into toast. It's 4:15. It's gonna get dark soon. Cathy's coming back from Yoga and she's gonna check the easel to see if I actually accomplished anything today. I tweaked this and tweaked that . . . but for what?

OK Plan "B" . . . tea and the photo/field study file. The loose leaf tea thing is very helpful. The warm liquid is relaxing. Flip pic 1, nah too complicated. Flip another, nah, Flip again, NO!, Flip one more.... hmmm no, Flip a pic again . . hey, wait I remember that morning. On my way to have coffee with Kate Starling in Springdale. The memory of the smell of the impending heat sending sage perfume through the gigantic silence of that remote valley. I did a quick oil sketch study on site. Just a grissalle I knew I would get back to that. But now? In my garage studio?

Hell yes. Open the Gamsol pot, clean that stupid No 2 flat. Don't think . . . . just paint. Don't be a prisoner to the photo of the same scene which I took when I left to meet Kate. Just get free. Remember back as your eyes drifted and feasted on the desert elements. 3 hours later I "went back" to Utah and finished this. This stuff ain't gonna sell in some gallery, I'm doing the work because I have to . . . for my soul. One day my hand will catch up with my brain. The process is painful yet exhilarating. This day was a victory to boot. Actually got some thick paint up there. Didn't wuss out. I just love art!

Dancing in the Dark

It was time to go to the dark side. After checking out some Ray Roberts and Russell Case luminous darks, it was time. I've always been afraid of darks. Flat, muddy, wrong hue, mushy blob . . . . a mistake waiting to happen. Went back to my sweet spot above the Channel Islands to try again. A real goal here . . . that super luminous "shadow light" which comes at dusk always paints the land in a magical way. If you try, you can stop and smell the color, you can hear the low rumbling roar of waning afternoon energy as the earth turns away from the sun. It's the moment I always feel the most alive when I'm out in the wilds. A fleeting moment which is gone in a whisper.

Well, OK . . . a bit pretentious as a goal, but damn, I started to feel connected. I wasn't just recording the scene, I was trying to convey the moment. Shot it with my iPhone on the easel. So happy with it that I actually posted it on Facebook. Cathy thought I was nuts to do that for many reasons. Nevertheless I feel energized. I feel like I'm getting somewhere