Beached Vessels

What started out as a practice session turned into a framed gift to the friend that gave me permission to use his photograph as a reference.  This painting took exactly four hours and one bottle of white merlot to complete.  It was the best way to spend an afternoon alone.

Pump in a Field

Yep, that's just what it is.  A pump in a field.  Snapped this reference photo on a hunting excursion where I shot my first whitetail buck.  I think I got too wrapped up in the details of the field and lost the depth of the whole composition -- in fact, if it weren't already sealed, I would go back in and wash out the background with a light glaze -- but was very pleased with the pump itself and had fun adding blues into the shadows, a trick I learned from studying the work of the professionals out there.  

She Smiles at Me

This little lady from India captured my heart when I saw her photo taken by a missionary friend of mine.  She sits on a concrete floor at a Sunday church service, not worried that she doesn't have a cushioned chair or a digital display or a contemporary band or donuts after worship.  She smiles from within, simply content to be with her God.  She inspires me.

Ezekiel's Inaugural Vision

Painting for auction at 2012 Macedonian Ministries Mission Conference

"Their faces looked like this: Each of the four had the face of a human being, and on the right side each had the face of a lion, and on the left the face of an ox; each also had the face of an eagle. Such were their faces. They each had two wings spreading out upward... and each had two other wings covering its body. Each one went straight ahead. Wherever the spirit would go, they would go..." - Ezekiel 1:10-12

Whitetail Creek Canyon

Gift for my friends at Whitetail Creek Lodge in Hulett, WY.  This is the view from their deck of the road that leads back to their little piece of heaven on earth.  I love to drive back this road and get serenaded by the neighbor's donkeys along the way.  They always make me laugh.

Working on a 24" x 48" landscape. A few more hours of added color and it will be declared finished, according to my standards -- which when compared to the skills of others might be a bit premature. The more I study other artists' applications the more I realize how much wisdom is lacking in my work, especially when it comes to color. Of course, the fact that I'm literally painting in a corner of my living room under a small "day" lamp that tries desperately to mimic the glory of the sun doesn't really help the situation... but even when I move my easel out into the open I still have difficulty knowing which perfect pigments to work together to get the richest shadows, what yellow will create the golden effects of the sunlight, which blues will meet the depths of the sky.

Every now and again I hit the jackpot and actually squeal with delight. Yesterday's moment of triumph was when I came to truly understand reflections of light and color as I painted the sunset over a canyon wall. The wall came to life when I added the deep blue of the sky into the crevices of the rocks and yellow-orange to the face. Boom. There it was.

And that's the joy of painting, isn't it? The journey from an empty canvas to a conglomeration of color that forms a visual. It's the act of creating something that literally comes to 'life'. I wonder if that's how God felt when He created us...

Unlike God however, I still have some perfecting to do in my work. And with each intent study, each blend of color, each brushstroke, I take one step forward and hopefully upward to that goal of wisdom. And I remain ever grateful to those of you who share your painting experiences. You may not realize it, but you are teachers. Givers of knowledge. Thank you.

Therapy

Spearfish Canyon Creek in the fall is as much therapy as one ever needs, I believe.  The sound of the water rolling over the rocks, the freshness in the air, the icy cold when I put my feet in the stream. Reliving it as I paint is almost as therapeutic.