Friday, March 28, 2014

untitled

Praise be when one of visual art's supreme motives is satisfied: the pushing of the boundary.  This boundary, drawn differently by all, is hard to describe.  Left unspoken, most know it right away, especially when it's been obliterated.  Sometimes, I believe it's pushed when any choice has been made.  For my context I've pushed the boundary because I've chosen to be a visual artist (can you make a living at that?).  I work on one-of-a-kinds.  What?    

acrylic on canvas
ink/watercolor on paper

What I find getting pushed around is concept (craft is flat out bullied).  But when viewers are challenged conceptually (obscurantism) their purchasing power takes a beating too.  This is where I recognize visual art for its muddled classification of consumerism. Separate from all else, it is as if the art wishes not to be merely bought or sold (agh, how bourgeois) but rather "collected" and applauded for its bravery.  And even the above average consumer (aka 200,000 breadwinner) simply cannot be relied upon to play this game.  

 The art world is a beast unlike any other.  Sigh.


And when an artist or gallery owner wish for their art to maintain its boundary-pushing ability they do things like relocate away from the center, further toward the frontier.  In fact, they should.  I live in Lockhart now, maybe next year I'll be in Seguin. 

Today I learned that my watercolors have reached the third round of The Art of Watercolour's First World Watercolour Comptetition.  Not at all my typical junk mail.


Thursday, February 27, 2014

weeding

I stand while painting in the studio, but I crouch while resting.  In the garden, where glory is given by gardeners and illustrated into Botany, I find respite in dirt from thought, and in the tedium of uprooting weeds from the spilling of ink. 

 

Though, yes, I battle against nature (mostly that of thistles and sticker burrs) I confine the battlefield to my backyard enclosure.  And by putting myself in charge I alone determine what is welcome to grow here and what is not.  


The garden is where I hear and locate (in this order) a pair of woodpeckers.  And as an artist blogger I find this a fitting phenomenon to catalog.  Isn't this what my painting blog is for?  To journal my painting alongside my experiences of bird-watching and gardening?  Woodpeckers are reminders of what's blissful, and they always have been.  They are the purest of distractions along the straight and narrow path.


Monday, January 13, 2014

zuzmara

I've been working on a dream in Hungary's Őrség for over twelve years.  An old house of rammed-earth walls, it is a symbol more than anything else.  




When we arrived in December the ground and trees were frozen (zuzmara in Hungarian).  Days later the earth thawed and we tracked the muddy footprints of deer and swine.



"watercolor artist" magazine February issue, now in stores.


Good time for acrylic on canvas.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

atomism

The redbud drops its color consecrating the cracked ground for one hundred hours.  It's a quiet Springtime transfer, the sun's last blessing before sweltering months.  Witness this and you'll fast forward to the planting of emerald rye in October.


Today my window is open and I hear the high school marching band practicing (they sound good).  The team has a home game this Friday against a conference foe.  And my neighbor is rider-mowing his lawn after a couple weeks of rainfall.


North of my window: The Arkansas Arts Center will include two paintings of mine for their 45th Collectors Show & Sale in December.  And I've been fortunate enough to be welcomed into AQUACHROME, a contemporary watercolor exhibit at Manifest Creative Research Gallery of Cincinnati opening November 8.  


Tuesday, August 27, 2013

meta

Let's talk about vanishing point, the title of this blog at the top of your screen.  Vanishing point is, for me, an irrational way of looking through my environment and into the unknown.  It is a shifting of colors and shapes around one central continuum (the vanishing point is always the same point).  It is the remnants of what's left - of both life moving past me as well as life fading away beyond my grasp. 


The street lined on both sides unfolds before me now and forever.  And though I'm not really as interested in the individual buildings on each side, I am comforted by how they contain the tunnel track of space (mainstream) that we move within.  


I don't believe in, no, I'm not allowed to structure my life around the idea of painting.  And this fundamental parameter encourages me to strive for the opposite: to live with my world, to not change  or deny parts of it, but to simply see it for what it is.  The result is a dictum: paint only what you can experience along the way.

This week I am delivering work to the Beeville Art Museum.  For my first museum show I will have work occupying the entire main gallery through the end of December.  Opening reception is September 28th from 12-2pm.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

john parks

I just finished a phone interview for Watercolor Artist Magazine with John Parks.  Though I tire easily when talking about the particulars of why I do this or that, I know I'm in good hands.  He is a seasoned painter and writer with a sense for connecting craft with its concept.  I look forward to the February 2014 issue.  He also saw what I see in this inkscape from last year...phew, I thought nobody would.  


Yesterday I sent a painting to the Russian Federation.  Dobryy Den.
  
And Davis Gallery of Austin is still showing my newest work with David Leonard and Daniel Burns.  There will be an artist talk on August 14th there at the gallery.  The three of us will explain everything.


John Parks also liked this one.  Thank you, John.


Tuesday, April 30, 2013

design without intentions

Paying attention and then not.  A flea infestation and then something not as small like the anteater at the zoo last Sunday.  The house across the street is emptied, its window is ajar and the curtain blows, and it's ordinary.  Opinions are strong about the right way to live these days.  But it's the night time that interests me and its design without intentions. 



John Hejduk and Colin Rowe, among so many of those post modernists, had a lot to say about such design.





I dreamt I was a tree in a courtyard.  Everybody was a busybody.  


Davis Gallery of Austin is part of WEST, West Austin Studio Tour, open Saturday and Sunday.