Rice Bowl

Another great scene from the southern Indian monasteries; while the monks are attending lectures and debates, they set their ricebowls on any flat surface available - in this case the top of a black granite stele in a courtyard. The Tibetan inscription records a dedication from the Dalai Lama.

Original Sin?

Call this a conditional defense of one artist and an unconditional argument against the cult of originality. Granted, there are at least 2 sides to every story, and I certainly don't know all the facts, but this is the situation as I understand it from the several articles I read.

I just learned of the controversy surrounding Canadian artist Sheryl Luxenburg’s award from the American Watercolor Society. In a nutshell, the AWS awarded Ms. Luxenburg the 2008 Gold Medal for her watercolor “Impermanence”, which is a Hyperrealist work employing a pointallistic technique that mimics inkjet printing. The AWS has since revoked her award and asked for a return of the cash, and also banned her from any future competitions. It might be added that the artist had already donated the money to charity, but dutifully returned the amount when asked. The presumed reason for revocation is that she did not take the source photos for the painting herself. There has also been the strong suggestion that what Ms. Luxenburg submitted was not an actual painting, but in fact a giclee. As a result of all of this, she has received a slew of hate mail, been scourged on a number of art blogs, and apparently has even received death threats. Her images have been removed from the sites of other organizations that have awarded her prizes.

The artist in no way hides the fact that her work is based on photography (as, I might add, are a vast number of paintings currently being produced today). She properly licensed the use of the images beforehand, so no copyright laws were violated. Two separate images were combined to produce the source image that the painting was based on; a minimal degree of alteration, perhaps, but it surely qualifies as the act of composition, nonetheless. 500 hours of minute, detailed work followed.

The AWS has released a statement simply claiming that the artist violated the entry rules of the competition, but does not specify which one. Essentially, they’re saying that the work is either not a painting, or not original enough. If it’s not a painting, then one seriously has to question why this fact was not discovered by the judging panel during the competition. If it’s revoking the prize because the source is not original, then in my opinion the organization has taken a rather capricious position on a very slippery slope. Where does originality end and derivative work begin? Does the still-life painter have to craft all the objects appearing in the setup? Does the landscape painter have to grow all of the trees or terraform the prairie scene? Should a portrait painter only paint their own children?

Of course not.

As dramatic as it is, the situation with Ms. Luxenburg and the AWS begs a larger question. To me, this whole controversy clearly stems from our relentless obsession with originality. Debating a work’s originality seems to me just about one of the most fruitless conversations one could possibly have, and is probably a completely modern phenomenon. Try mentioning it to, say, the great artist-craftsmen who worked on Chartres Cathedral. They would likely just mutter something under their breaths, gnaw off a hunk of bread, and go back to their anonymous, glorious work. Consider how remarkably stable and unchanging Egyptian art was; they found something that worked and stuck with it for 2000 years. In fact, I rather suspect that 99.9% of all the artists who ever lived would have a very puzzled and amused look on their faces if you tried to talk to them about originality. I simply don't believe there is such a thing as a wholly original work of art. Every artist brings with them a long train of influences and inspirations going back to the beginning of art. These are brought to bear on every single work they create. Some feel it more or less than others, but it’s impossible to escape and useless to try. In my opinion, the only thing an artist really needs to worry about is uncovering the germ of their own artistic personality, and nourishing it by figuring out it’s relationship with the endless chain of previous art.

Whether it is intentional or not, Sheryl Luxenburg wades directly into the middle of this question, which to me makes her work even more challenging and interesting. It sounds like she’s feeling pretty hurt by all of this, which is really too bad. This is the kind of thing which will either make her career or break it. Assuming the facts as presented are true, I truly sympathize with her, and hope that in the long run she gets far more attention, well-deserved recognition, and robust sales than if she had won and simply kept the prize.

As for myself, I look to one of my favorite Wise Men for guidance on this:

"What news! How much more important to know what that is which was never old!"
-Thoreau

Fragment: Orange

"Fragment: Orange"
Oil on panel, 3.5 x 3.5 inches
Sold

A few posts back I mentioned that I really wanted to do a few simple paintings, and this is exactly the piece I had in mind. Obviously, simple should never be boring. The drama of the light in this painting held my attention while working on it; hopefully others enjoy that as well.

To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.

Buying art in a down economy

I did a lot of behind-the-scenes work today, so, sadly, no new art to show.

The Boston Globe today had in interesting and disappointing article about collecting art in a down ecomony. The focus was that galleries are slashing prices, so buy now. Well, times have changed, of course, and galleries no longer hold a monopoly on distribution. It would have been awesome if the article also pointed out that artists who sell online don't include the gallery markup to begin with, so prices have always been reasonable.

Fragment: Lost Cause

"Fragment: Lost Cause"
Oil on panel, 3.5 x 2.5 inches
Sold

Today I decided it was time to have some fun. I haven't painted one of these miniature knight guys in years, and, well, it just really fit my mood... a little stubborn, a little ironic... you know.

Some days I really sympathize with this fellow.

To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.

Captive Lemon No. 1

Purchase Information
"Captive Lemon No. 1"
Oil on canvas, 30 x 24 inches

Now here's a big painting. Some of you may recognize this from last year. Obviously, I generally work pretty small. Every once in a while, though, I feel like doing a really big canvas, probably to prove to myself that I still can as much as anything else. When I was photographing this tonight, I had the feeling that another big piece was overdue.

After enjoying the painting myself for a while, I've decided to offer it for sale. It is framed, by the way; see the image below.

Fragment: Spires

"Fragment: Spires"
Oil on panel, 3.5 x 3.5 inches
Sold

Some time recently I commented here that I really loved painting brass. Well, doing this piece did nothing to change my mind in that regard. It's just a wonderful metal to work with; incredibly warm overall, yet having surprising coolness as it turns into shadow.

I've been tackling some complicated and ambitious subjects lately (like this one, certainly!), and now I feel like I need to cool my heels a little bit. Look for some fun and simple paintings this coming week.

Tea... for 4300...

I decided to share this picture today for no particular reason, except I really love it. Obviously, from my time at the Tibetan Buddhist monasteries in southern India last year. When you need to prepare tea for 4300 people in what is essentially a medieval kitchen, this is pretty much how you do it...

This was from the winter months, when the daytime temperature rarely topped 80 degrees. I can only imagine what this job is like during the summer... 100+ degrees and 100% humidity... every day.

In Progress: Spires

When I got up this morning, I had entertained high hopes of finishing this one by the end of the day.

Ain't gonna happen.

So, I leave you with this humble in-progress image. I'm actually quite excited about the way it's coming together. If I feel particularly workaholic, I'll spend some time on it tomorrow. On the other hand, a little down-time might be nice, so we'll see.

Honey and Silver

"Honey and Silver"
Oil on linen on panel, 10 x 10 inches
Sold

Lately my output has been saturated with paintings from my Fragments series. Don't worry, there are plenty more of those to come, but I've also been working on some larger pieces "on the side". At 10x10, this one seems positively ENORMOUS to me now.

It was a good challenge to orchestrate a painting that combined the hard, brilliant qualities of the glass and metal with the warm, mellow tones of the honey.

The Orientalist Gallery

I'm spending the day working on underpaintings for more Fragments and the setup for a commission piece, so... nothing new to show.

Instead, I thought I'd share something fun. I've mentioned before that I'm drawn to the work of the 19th century Orientalist painters. There's a real sense of wonder, discovery, and with the best of them, genuine reverence for non-European cultures. Good Orientalist paintings trip all my triggers. Even some of the bad ones do, too...

Anyway, it turns out there's an active blog dedicated to this body of art, The Orientalist Gallery, run by California Artist Enzie Shahmiri. It appears to be updated daily with a new painting and some rudimentary technical information about the piece. There does not appear to ever be much discussion of the work or the artist, but I'm definitely ok with that. This is an overview site, where the purpose is just to show a lot of art.

Anybody who likes this genre will definitely want to go have a look.

Fragment: Knife and Tibetan Carpet

"Fragment: Knife and Tibetan Carpet"
Oil on panel, 1 x 4 inches
Sold

Wow - I love painting this carpet!
It's just a tiny little Tibetan mat that we've had around the house for years; probably no bigger than 16x16 inches. It never occurred to me until pretty recently to include it in a painting. Looking at it with a fresh set of eyes that day was one of those "Hey, wait a minute..." moments that I just live for as a painter. The bright, primary colors and sculptured pile make it an absolutely perfect subject. In fact, more than once while working on this, I wondered why I even bothered with the knife!

I also want to mention that I'm now up on the Daily Paintworks site. Please go have a look!

To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.

Fragment + Daily Paintworks

"Fragment: Teacup"
Oil on panel, 2.5 x 2.5 inches
Sold

Like probably any artist, I worry about improving all the time. Lately, that's taken the form of trying to be more patient; focusing very carefully on exactly what I'm doing, not getting too far ahead of myself, and not rushing... never ever ever rushing. It's a constant battle, with good days and bad days, but there is some progress. This teacup, for instance. I've painted it before, but it never occurred to me then to count every little bead on the rim of the saucer and then paint them all. Well, I'm proud to say that for this piece, I did count them all, and yes, they are accurately portrayed here. That's patience :)
To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.


And - some exciting news: When I checked my email tonight, I had a completely unexpected surprise. I've been invited to join the Daily Paintworks, and I immediately accepted. Daily Paintworks is a group of a dozen extraordinary artists who practice the daily/frequent painting discipline. I've followed them all for a good while, and it's a real honor to be included in their midst. I won't be up on the site for a few days yet, but please visit it now to see this amazing collection of painters.

February Guest Artist: Neil Hollingworth

Since late last year, I’ve been devoting Sundays to short posts about a classic painting. It’s been a lot of fun, and now it’s time to expand on the idea. Once a month I’m going to invite a guest artist to appear on my blog. I’ll feature a number of their paintings and conduct a short interview with them. Since deciding to do this, I’ve been really, really excited about it; It’s been great working up the concept, and now it’s ready!

I’m delighted that Neil Hollingsworth has graciously agreed to be my first guest. Neil needs little or no introduction. Since he’s a modest guy who would probably object to lengthy praise, I’ll simply say he’s one of the finest artists I know. He’s built an impressive following both online and in gallery space, and his blog is a constant source of inspiration and delight to many, many artists and art lovers. Detailed biographical information can be found here.



Neil Hollingsworth
Pool Bowl No. 10
Oil, 6 x 6 inches


OK, down to business. The format for these posts will be as follows: I’ll pick one or more of the guest’s paintings, we’ll have a short interview, and then I’ll ask the guest to pick one or more of their own works. For Neil, the piece I’ve chosen to highlight is one of his Pool Bowl paintings. It’s number 10 from a long-running series that has become iconic; an instantly-recognizable signature piece.

This subject turns simple sunshine into a shooting gallery of light and color, all of which are captured with a real virtuosity. Notice the care with which even the reflection of the sun is varied; the color and probably the coating of each individual ball reflects the light just slightly differently. It’s not a stylistic or even an important thing, but I’ve always loved the way the great 17th century Dutch still life painters went out of their way to arrange their glass and metal objects so that the entire light-source window could be reflected somewhere on their surfaces. Obviously, Neil has done the same thing here, and it’s a beautiful effect, faithfully painted. Details like these separate the masters from the crowd.

For me, though, it’s the cropping which really makes this painting sing. A more standard treatment of this subject would be to contain the entire bowl in the field of view, with maybe 10-15% of empty space on each side. That would be a very respectable, but predictable composition. This arrangement is a whole lot more interesting. The balls are set in such a way that they’re perfectly balanced with respect to each other; notice how the pyramid formed by the red balls anchors the arrangement. At the same time, the asymmetrical cut of the bowl itself gives an instability to the composition, and adds an air of mystery to it.

It would probably be easy enough to be dazzled with the technical accomplishment of these paintings and look no further, but that would entirely miss the point… and I think it’s an important point. Spend a little time looking at his still life page. Many of them don’t seem to work like regular still lifes. It’s almost like they’re genre paintings without people in them. They’re made up of objects that are set in a space that people definitely inhabit, but the people are all gone. They’re not compositions so much as they are frozen moments, which gives them a gentle, poignant, and somewhat haunting air. Even with this piece, I get the real sense that somebody dumped the balls in the bowl and walked away just before the painting happened. It manages to be playful and wistful at the same time. And that might just be what’s most appealing about Neil’s paintings; it’s honest art; not crushingly sincere, and not morbidly ironic. The middle way… just right.

But enough from me, let’s hear from the man himself. I sent along seven questions, and he provided excellent, thoughtful answers to all of them.


JH: Like many of us, you came to painting after several other careers. Aside from adding to your general life experience, do you feel that those previous jobs have had any specific impact on your painting?
NH: I can't say that my time spent as an aircraft mechanic or an OR nurse had an impact. If it did, the influence was negligible. I definitely believe that my time spent as a graphic designer had a significant impact. The effect was most notable in the area of composition. Cropping photographs, working with type and various decorative graphic elements for an ad, brochure or book had an invaluable effect on how I compose my paintings now.



Neil Hollingsworth
City of Charleston
Oil, 24 x 48 inches


JH: How many colors do you normally have on your palette? Does it vary from painting to painting, or do you always squeeze out exactly the same paints?
NH: I am all over the place when it comes to my palette. I think that an instructor of art would shudder to watch me lay out my paints. You wouldn't necessary know it from looking at my paintings. They tend to run slightly monochromatic, but I love colors. Because of this I possess a large collection of paints. My first stop at the art supply store is always the paint department. If I find a new appealing color that costs less than $12, I'll buy it. When the time comes to prepare my palette for a new painting, I dig through them until I've culled out the ones that seem appropriate. Each painting will have it's own assortment of colors. It's a time consuming, and occasionally wasteful process, but in the end works pretty well for me. I also have no particular brand loyalty. My paint box contains representatives from most of the commonly available brands. My wife Karen has a very structured palette. The same colors, located in their assigned positions. From these she mixes most of the colors she needs. Karen is very skilled in the use, and mixing of color. An ability that I am very envious of.


JH: Over the last 5 years, what has surprised you the most about the way your painting has developed?
NH: I'm not sure I would classify this as a surprise, but my quest these last five years has been to develop a more "painterly" look to my work. Paint looser, with more lost edges, and less detail. When I look at my work now, I find that I've gone in the exact opposite direction. With each new painting I challenge myself to actually enhance the realistic technique, and delve deeper into the realm of photorealism.


JH: Can you describe your typical working day? As How much of it is spent actually painting vs. other art- or business- related tasks?
NH: My day is mostly free form, but there is some degree of routine to it. The day usually begins with office tasks i.e., answering emails and computer housekeeping. This will be followed with the culling, cropping and organizing of photographs. Mornings are also the time used for preparing canvas and panels, varnishing, packaging and shipping completed paintings. I don't start to actually paint until after lunch, sometime around 1:00. If I don't need to get a finished painting photographed, and listed for ebay, I will usually paint until 6:00. If I am listing a piece for ebay, I'll knock off around 4:00. This gives me time to photograph the painting, and color correct it. A process that can be very time consuming. The listing process, and its corresponding post to my blog will finish up the work day.

Afternoons are also the time for compositional photography. It depends upon the light. If it's a good light day, a large part of it will be spent setting up still lifes, and photographing them. Or I'll get in the car, and drive around searching for something interesting in the outside world to paint. I'll commonly shoot 100 to 150 images, then, as I mentioned above, spend the mornings picking out, and editing the best shots.



Neil Hollingsworth
DC-3
Oil, 18 x 18 inches


JH: You’ve frequently mentioned that you work from photographs; do you think of it as simply snapping a picture for reference, or do you find that the act of taking the photo is part of the creative process?
NH: The act of taking the photograph is the most important part of the process for me. If you start with a mediocre composition, you've pretty much lost the battle. I've seen scores of paintings created by artists whose skill in moving the paint around is very high, but their compositions are so boring that the final piece leaves no lasting impression on the viewer. I'm not claiming that my compositions are all that impressive. I'm just saying that I spend a great deal of time composing, and then editing those images, in an attempt to create an interesting painting. In a folder of 100+ images, I may find a dozen that have potential. Although, it's not uncommon to come across a dull photograph, that with some creative cropping, will result in a beautiful painting. It's a great deal of work, but work that for me is very pleasurable. I paint directly from my photographic reference, so I need that image to be exactly what I want to see in the final piece. For me, it's all about the photography.


JH: What’s the best piece of advice you were given about having a career as an artist?
NH: I've drawn, and painted since I was a child for fun. I took it seriously, in that I always wanted to produce the best painting I was capable of doing at the time, but I never entertained the thought that I would ever find myself working as a painter. Until the advent of the internet. When my friend and artist Jeff Cohen told me that he had begun to actually sell his artwork on ebay, the dream of working as an artist suddenly became a possibility. Now, my main problem, when I first considered selling my art, was letting it go, for what I thought at the time was pennies. In the past I had had no problem giving away paintings as gifts to friends, but selling them for a few dollars was, in my mind, a crime. Here comes the advice. My wife Karen, and Jeff Cohen both told me the same thing, "if you paint a piece that you really can't part with, just paint it again for yourself". This statement, along with the ability to archive my images on my computer to revisit at anytime I chose, freed me to paint and "release". It wasn't long before I had no problem letting virtually all my paintings go without remorse. I quickly realized that the more I painted and sold, the more opportunity I would have to paint.


JH: And just for fun: what do you listen to while painting?
NH: I am addicted to audiobooks. Primarily historical, scientific and non-fiction, with some classics and sci-fi/horror mixed in. I'm currently "reading" a biography of Robert J. Oppenheimer entitled American Prometheus. I supplement these with a long list of Podcasts. Some of my current favorites are: Bill Moyers Journal, the Kunstler Cast, NOW on PBS, This American Life, and TEDtalks.



Neil Hollingsworth
Antique Shop No. 3
Oil, 18 x 24 inches


JH: Finally, could you pick one of your own paintings that you particularly like?
NH: Jeff asked me to submit one of my favorite paintings. A tough assignment. Not that they are all so great, but I like different paintings for different reasons. So, I sent along three. Not necessarily favorite paintings, but representing some favorite subjects. Ones I don't indulge myself in very often. My first love was animal art [see above: City of Charleston]. I think it may still be my favorite subject, but a hard sell, so it takes a back seat. Mechanical stuff also gets my juices flowing, trains, planes and automobiles [see above: DC-3]. The third piece entitled Antique Shop No. 3 was one of my true favorite paintings, but was an unpopular painting to say the least. It lingered in the galleries for a long time before it ultimately sold. That aside, I'm very proud of it. The image came from an antique shop in Savannah GA. Every square inch of this particular room will filled with tables and chairs. The single shaft of light streaming in from a skylight onto those two chairs, seen in that gap between the legs of the hanging chairs, blew me away.


So, with that I’ll wrap up the first of what I intend to be monthly guest artist features. I’ve had a lot of fun putting this together, and I hope you all have enjoyed reading it. I want to thank Neil over and over again for participating and putting so much effort into it. You can thank him by visiting his blog regularly: http://neilhollingsworth.blogspot.com/ Neil mentioned his wife Karen, who is also a SPLENDID painter (it’s tough to imagine that much talent under one roof!). You can see her work here.

Reminder + Sand Painting

"Teacup Fragment No. 2"
Oil on panel, 2.5 x 2 Inches

Just a reminder that you can win this painting by being signed up for my monthly newsletter (enter your email address in the "Subscribe" box to the right). This month's newsletter will go out on Tuesday evening, so you must be signed up by then. For details, click here.




One of the really spectacular forms of Tibetan art are sand-painted mandalas. These intricate paintings are created by dropping grains of colored sand onto a flat surface, usually as part of a religious ceremony. At the end of the ceremony, the painting is usually swept away, symbolizing impermanence, one of the key concepts of Buddhism.

When we visited the house of one of the high lamas, there was on display this large preserved sand painting, kept in a glass case. We were being ushered through rather briskly, and I didn't think at the moment to ask why this one was not destroyed.

Fragment: Mirror, Mirror

"Fragment: Mirror, Mirror"
Oil on panel, 2.5 x 2.5 inches
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One of the things I'm loving about the Fragments series is that it gives me the chance to try out a lot of ideas I might not otherwise get to. Case in point: this painting. For literally years, I've wanted to paint objects in mirrors, but somehow never got around to it. By working so small, I got the chance to do it in a day... albeit a very long day.

To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.

Guest Artist Feature

I've spent another day working on underpaintings. Hopefully tomorrow I will have a new Fragment completed.

However... I'll take this opportunity to beat the drum again about my upcoming guest artist feature. I'm totally psyched about this: it's a wonderful guest who's put a lot of effort into the interview, and chosen some very fine paintings to share. The result is a fantastic post that I think everyone will enjoy. In short, if you care about painting, you'll want to read this. See it here on Sunday...

In Progress + Studio Image

Nothing new today. After I finished yesterday's Fragment, I realized I didn't have any more finished underpaintings to work with, so I've spent the day working on grisailles. I included the above image to give some idea of the process I go through, even with the small paintings (this one is 2.5 x 2.5 inches). While I sometimes do omit the grisaille stage, it doesn't usually feel right to do so. Particularly with a piece that has this level of intricacy, I'd feel lost proceeding without the underpainting.




I thought I'd also include this shot today; it gives a pretty typical "slice of life" view of part of my studio. The censer is one of my favorite possessions; it's been with me for years and still delights me. I sometimes like to burn incense while working, so in addition to looking great, it serves a practical use as well. The thin gray panel in the lower left is a new Fragment, awaiting underpainting.

Fragment: Bottleneck No. 2

"Fragment: Bottleneck No. 2"
Oil on panel, 4 x 1 inches
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I just realized I don't have a whole lot to say about this painting. We've been occupied with some house-related business for the last few days, and it's left me a little brain-dead... feeling kind of lucky I even finished this one.

What I can say is that I have a very exciting new feature coming to the blog this weekend. For some time, I've wanted to start a monthly guest artist series here, where I invite another artist to share a few of their paintings and take part in an informal interview. I've finally gotten my act together, and the series premiers on sunday with a very special guest... stay tuned!

To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.

Fragment: Blue Bottle Redux

Fragment: Blue Bottle Redux
Oil, 3.5 x 2.5 inches
NFS

On somewhat rare occasions, I redo a previous painting, just setting for myself the challenge of doing it better. This Fragment is part of a painting I did last year, which you can see here. It's not that I felt there was anything horribly wrong with the original per se, and probably every artist feels like they can do better work today than yesterday. Nevertheless, something kept nagging me about it, so I decided to have another go.

Naturally, I think I've improved since doing the previous piece. Putting that in concrete terms would take some thought, and is probably more self-indulgent than I should be - at least in print. What I can say for sure, though, is that I'm becoming more patient. That's probably one of the most important qualities to do this kind of painting, and it's actually one that I struggle with. Funny but true. I won't be half-way finished with a piece and I'll be ready to move on to the next one... really ready. We all have handicaps.

The good news is that it's improving. Hopefully, next year I'll look at this piece and think "oh yeah, I can do that better".

Sunday Masterpiece: Beyeren

Abraham van Beyeren
Still Life with Lobster and Fruit
Oil on wood, 38 x 31 inches

I only recently discovered van Beyeren's work. This could simply be due to gaps in my own knowledge, which is always the most likely explanation. But, if he is in fact an obscure artist, that is an unjust obscurity, as this wonderful, elegantly composed still life demonstrates.

I assume this painting was the victim of a bad cleaning at some point in it's history, or else he used some fugitive pigments. Clearly, the colors should be more saturated than they are, especially the cantaloupe. I would guess it's more likely the former; historically, orange was generally achieved with a glaze, and improper cleaning can strip glaze layers right off.

Win This Painting

"Teacup Fragment No. 2"
Oil on panel, 2.5 x 2 Inches


For a lot of people (myself included), February is not a cheerful month - especially here in the Northeast. The charm of winter has worn thin, and the reality of sniffles, heating bills, and snow shoveling has settled in for the long haul. The constant drone of bad news this year is not exactly helping either.

So... I can't make any of those things better, but I can do one thing to spread a little happiness: I'm holding a sweepstakes to give away this painting.

Those of you who are recipients of my newsletter already know that I hold regular drawings for small paintings, which the winner receives at absolutely no charge (even the shipping is free!). This month, though, I thought I'd announce it beforehand, so blog readers could participate as well.

To be eligible, simply sign up for my monthly newsletter. Enter your email address in the Subscribe box to the right (beneath the Currently Available image), and click the "go" button. You will receive my newsletter in about 10 days with instructions about entering the sweepstakes... Good Luck!

Fragment: Marmalade Jar

"Fragment: Marmalade Jar"
Oil on panel, 3.5 x 3.5 inches
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While most of the Fragments I've been doing have been studies for upcoming pieces, this one looks backward rather than forward. It's a detail from a piece I did several months ago, which you can see here. I came back to it because I was just so thrilled with the play of light on the paper wrapper; both the direct illumination on the right, and the secondary reflections coming from below.

To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.

Fragment: Window Trio

"Fragment: Window Trio"
Oil on panel, 1 x 3.75 inches
Sold

Another study for an upcoming piece. I'm starting to feel like it's time to start actually working on the pieces I've been doing studies for.

The motif of objects set on a windowsill with a blurred external background is one I've been strangely resistant to. I say strangely because now that I've done it, I'm really in love with it. It's a beautiful, cheerful effect, and one I imagine I'll make much more use of.

To learn more about the Fragments series, click here.

In progress... sort of...

Today was a late start and a lot of interruptions, so not a lot to show for it. This is the in-progress piece, with a US quarter to show scale. There was a time... not so long ago... where a 16x20 inch painting was a quick afternoon's work.

I shudder to think...