Changes Afoot

The painting does not go well. A much as I wanted it to, it never did for me. I can only think of one canvas that, once finished, satisfied me. In dim recollection, it was something I dashed off as decoration for the new nursery, some thirty years ago and so had an important purpose beyond my mere need to fling colors around. All the hard edges that we create when piecing fabric become impossible boundaries when recreated in two dimensions with paint. So far,I've only painted ground colors. The need to have to fashion the effects of the texture of fabric and stitching with paint confounds me. Once the studio warms up, I'll give it another go before I gesso over the whole mess. On a completely different note, I'm delighted to have found a full time job. It's going to be familiar - when AT&T dragged us from NY to GA I spent three years of hell taking inbound telemarketing calls - but there won't be any "marketing" in this position. There's room for advancement - my IT skills and experience were noted, and so, back into the workforce we go! I am deeply grateful.

Crossing back over to the darkside

It's been thirty years since the last time I painted a canvas. I had to open some of the paint tubes with a pair of pliers. Jimmy gave me this easel for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. What did he know that I didn't. I had the alligator dream again last night. It was either paint or start looking for drugs. I made this piece while waiting for the paint to dry. It's going to be one of the book's pages I think. Some people are better at waiting than others.

Seeking Grey & Gray

After spending some time with Alligator Dream and stumbling across Tricia McKellar's new series "Flourish" I am provoked to rediscover how greygray brings harmony to my insane pallette where gang wars break out between the various factions on a regular basis. Did I ever tell you that when I was little I worried that if I didn't use each and every color each time I took them out, they got angry with me and planned evil doings like hiding under a chair and getting sucked into the vacuum cleaner.

The Alligator Dream

I've had a lot of knee grief in my life. Knock wood all is well now but if I have a rough day there is pain in the night and I dream that alligators are biting my legs and are working hard to twist them off. Or could the pain come from the dreams?

real studio time

I was going to get started last night but I was pinned down on the couch by two cats and forced to watch a re-run of the 1991 World Series 7th game between the Atlanta Braves, my team, and a buncha guys with long greasy hair. After watching John Smoltz pitch a few clean innings I was overcome with boohoo at his defection to the Boston Red Sox. I mean, just how much friggin' money does a person need? Is there no loyalty left in the world? I abandoned the game and flicked over to revisit "To Kill a Mockingbird" and so there ended my creative evening. Here are the fruits of the morning so far. These critters are "Waiting for Wings". I'm still toying with the kid's book notion but for me a book has to put the story first. I don't want to slave over illustrations for their own sake and nothing is coming to me at the moment, preoccupied as I am with finding work and speaking of which I have an interview tomorrow. Cross 'em if you got 'em. This piece is going to involve a soy-wax resist and some dyeing but the house is too cold to even think about any of that right now.