Planting Time, #waushara County, Acrylic, 14” x 24” canvas on wood panel. I spent a couple of weeks poking at this piece, balancing the roughness of the earth with the smoothness of the sky. About 35 years ago while in art school, I did a painting with some bold colors. My prof and mentor Ken Schmidt had a video crew in to capture images and to tweak their colors through their electronics. It was crude by today’s standards of image manipulation, but showed the dynamics of my work as the color balances and contrasts were shifted along a broad spectrum.
I did the same with this image on my ipad, much to the surprise of my five year old grandson, The Poet.
Try an experiment on your own— download the photo and play with the colors and contrast. Enjoy.
Dark Matter is the subject of much speculation on the part of physicists around the world. It was first posited because without it, many formulae fall apart and the universe, as we understand it, could not exist.
I was working on this piece while Dr. Walter Pettus, one such physicist, was sharing my studio space for writing. I turned to him and he was thoughtfully looking out the window. “Writer’s block,” I said. “Try this line—‘Dark matter doesn’t exist’”.
As I juxtaposed that conversation with my overarching understanding that “art is the manifestation of philosophy”, I realized I’d stumbled onto a decent title. Everything about this piece is based on the unseen hand in our universe. The dimensions are based the “Golden Ratio”, one of those numbers in the universe that “just works”. The Fibonacci spiral stems from this ratio and was the first thing I drew when I started this work. From that I plotted the design to flow with and around the spiral. Perhaps you can “see” it for yourself, beginning in the lower right corner, arcing across the ground and trees, flowing into the clouds and curving back to a point in the open space.
I left hints at space division in lines and a small box of the same proportion. I have been working this way for about 35 years now— and it reflects my belief that the “Heavens declare the glory of God,” and we see it in the natural beauty of our world, and in the order and structure of the of the universe.
Holy Week, 2020– So, when someone says, “can you do this one”, sometimes I actually start painting. In this case, the “client” is someone I have known my entire life. Also, I was intrigued by the clouds and the color scheme challenges, with so much crimson and violet in the foreground.
I have been to Hawaii a few times and was struck by two things— the vibrancy of colors as contrasted with clouds, and the floral aroma the permeates the island. I hope that I was able to capture one of those two elements here, and to strike the memory of the other.
I chose to frame this in a natural, oil rubbed, rough cut cherry frame. As I was once told by my mentor Dr. Ken Schmidt, the frame becomes a part of the art. And so, I make all of my frames to suit each piece.
This scene is one of my favorite rural landscapes of Waushara County. You can find it on County Road JJ, south of Richford, WI. I first spotted it a few years back when I was still working in Madison and commuting from my home near Wautoma. Last spring I drove it frequently as I visited the Amish carpenter who was building our kitchen cabinets. (Shout out to Pine Grove Woodworking… David Jr. you’re the best.). When I start a painting I always have a “gridwork” in mind for them. Sometimes they get added, sometimes they are only guidelines for me to use in planning the layout. This piece required their “presence” to be made known.
As I said to some of the visitors to my booth last summer at the Waupaca Art Fest, on the very simplest terms, they provide balance and stability to my design work. They allow me to carry earth tones into skies and visa versa. They let me break the rules while respecting their dominance.
In broader terms, they are a clear manifestation of my understanding of what art is— the manifestation of philosophy. I’ll let you chew on that one for a bit.
Driving home from my grandson’s birthday party in February, this was the sunset scene I encountered. It was bitter cold and the heat in my truck was (is) not working. But when I saw this, I stopped, snapped a photo and let it permeate my memory. I started painting this the next day.
A new thought—trying to capture the rays of sun that blast a winter day with toomuchlight. Near Spring Lake, WI. Winter is an amazing time of year here, near the 44th paralell. The angles of the sun, the boldness of the colors at sunrise and sunset, and the wash of light that happens at midday when there are few clouds in play.
G. K. Chesterton, or “Cheeky Chet” as we call him around our house, is a favorite of ours. His wit and wisdom are cracking smart and almost always hit the mark.
My bride and I saw this lovely scene from our deck one evening last fall. The dead trees you see silhouetted are the home of pileated woodpeckers who laugh at us most days. This piece has quite a bit of nuance to it in the original with subtle hints of greens and blues in the shadows. The star toward the top of this piece is Arcturus. This piece recently sold to a client and friend here in Wautoma. He picked up this and the next piece I’ll post—another night scene.
Moonrise was an instant favorite of my bride and became our Christmas card last year (2019). It joined the previously posted painting “Message in the Cloud” at the home of a Wautoma client. This scene was taken from a daytime photo of a lovely farm off Hwy 21 West of Omro, WI. I used the pic to place the details of the painting and imagined the night scene. I love seeing rainbow effects around a full moon. If you’ve never seen it, you need to get out of the city more often. (I’m talking to you, Cinque!) The star near the moon in this pic is Antares.