Saint Louis again! That town gives me so much inspiration. Old beautiful buildings built in the 20s and 30s, abandoned and growing the most pleasing patinas. I traveled with a friend who could not see the appeal of an old run-down building. He thought they should be torn down. I shuddered at the comment and set into a lecture about how his kind is the downfall of America. He simply laughed and looked at me cock-eyed. I miss living in cities. Going to St Louis made me a little sad about buying a house in the country.

There was a show at the StL Art Museum which had a room full of Terry Winters paintings and drawings. Winters was one of my favorite artists back when I was in college, but I must say I was a little disappointed in the work. They did not have the layers of paint that I associate with his stuff. There were some other pieces by different painters whose work was interesting. The show made me miss having museums nearby. It was funny to look around at art with my friend because he just didn't know any of the work. I pointed out Miros, Klees, Modiglianis, Mondrian, Diebenkorn, Lichtenstein, Hartley - he knew none of them. I showed him a Pollock and he was excited about recognizing his work; he said he had "seen the movie". I had to spend several minutes trying to convince him that it was the real thing. I don't know who is more geeky, me because I know all the work, or him because he knows none of it.

What inspires you? I have been struggling with inspiration lately. Perhaps it's because I am so anxious to dig into that new house. I've designed oak cabinets, glass door knobs, split rail fencing, curtains, bathrooms, a garden, and a post and beam studio. I guess I move in cycles. Sometimes I am really focused on paintings, and ideas flow from my sketch-book like a river. Other times I want nothing more than to sand a piece of wood. I've been working on lots of small frames for collages and miniature oils. Lately, I have been thinking that inspiration is something an artist must actively seek. Some artists I know take pictures everywhere they go, others sketch all the time. I am always jotting down ideas on whatever is available, post-its mostly. In college I would carry around a pocket size sketch book that I drew in during lectures. I've let that way of working go but I think it deserves a resurrection.

Books and Bottles become bread and butter. I am working larger and smaller all at the same time. The larger work is really freeing. I am able to move with broad strokes, and while one section is drying I can work the opposite end with ease. These small pieces can be worked up a few at a time, framed as they finish. This flow of work is very functional and I will have works available for collectors with the means to buy large paintings as well as those who can only afford a small piece. Its a good rhythm for me. I would say the small works are studies, but truth be told, I don't see them that way. I work in sketch books, doodling around, trying to come up with new ideas, also I see collage as my way of finding direction. Small works are just works that are small.

The collage I've posted is a study for a larger painting which I finished tonight. I drove home from my studio slowly because I wanted time to come down for the intensity of a painting going well. A slow country drive in my old Ford was perfect for the wind-down. People who know me well can tell when I've been painting, because I turn into a complete zombie. It's really the only time when I am completely focused. Surely it's a form of meditation, because my hand could be grilling on a red hot burner and I wouldn't even notice. This form of attention is also a way for me to "center" myself - I know, I know, sounds hokie, but really if I miss this sort of direction for my brain, I will become a real pain to everyone around me. For a couple of weeks I have been lost or lazy and I started to wonder how I would ever be able to create anything again. I've been filling the void with TV, movies, food and internet which is a recipe for depression. Its nice to be back.

So now that I am buying a house with all this land, I've been researching the next animal I am going to get. As if our little bitch is not pain enough to deal with. I thought that whenever I owned a house I was going to get a goat. Kim, who runs Artemisia Gallery, had goats that she kept for their wool; she said they were a pain. Shannon and I almost got a pig but felt they did too much rooting around in the yard and that it would be hard to take one on trips. A dog is one thing, but most people would draw the line at letting a pig stay the night. Last week it came to me... a donkey! Donkeys are great; they are funny, they can pull things, and they will eat your grass.

There is this point in most paintings where, as the artist I say, "um, this is not going the way I planned", or in laymans terms, "what the hell am I making". I am right at that point in the large boat painting. I will keep plugging away on it, and in the end it will be whatever it will be. I have refocused my attention upon the commission piece, which, despite my reluctance to turn my precious bottles into books, is looking really nice. Maybe I will do a series of books inside of grids.

My idea to hide the new stuff and push the old stuff is working like gang busters. The grids are hot, and meanwhile I am busy painting boats, barns, waterfalls, and my little pony dolls. Next year they will be on the market, and I will be working on figures, comodes, and green horny toads.

I have grandiose plans to do a bunch of collages like this one posted. I am thinking I will sell them locally at Artemisia gallery. That is the plan, if I can just get myself to make a bunch... If.

I need routine. One year I ate tuna in a can for lunch everyday...e v e r y d a y. It was part of my New Year's resolution to not cook for one whole year. After my mom was asked how much tuna she consumed on an application for health insurance, I switched to chicken in a can. Lower mercury levels. I get up every morning and stumble into the kitchen, make coffee, and drink it with Missy; it's our bonding time. My painting routine involves a couple hours every night after work and 9-2 on Saturday. If I don't go in on Saturday, I will become depressed. Shannon and I watch Good Eats every day after work, while eating dinner on the couch. We get a movie and Picnic's chicken (a local meat and three) on Friday. If any of these routines are interrupted in any way, I will begin to get the shakes and start foaming at the mouth while uttering incoherent messages. I love my routines.

Ok, let me get back to the art of the matter. I am busy focusing on buying a house, and a car, as well as making lots of plans to renovate the new house. Don't think I am neglecting my painting duties though. I am still going into my studio every night to plug away on art work. I just finished the above painting and am in the middle of another boat painting, like the one I posted earlier, but much larger. I am also working on some small collages that are turning out really nice. Friday, I got a commission from Sterling Publishing, they want a piece to hang in their conference room in NY.

I am going to keep everyone updated on the art I am making, but I will also begin posting my progress on the remodel of our new house. We begin work in September and hope to move in October. The final project will be to convert the garage into a working studio.

Finally, we can get that goat Shannon and I have always dreamed about.
On Friday we signed papers to buy a house. The picture above is part of our front lawn. Its way out in Alexander, NC. Next door is a make shift driving range which the realtor said no one ever uses. I told her I was afraid that it would become a hangout for hoodlum golf rednecks. She said rednecks don't golf they just shoot things. We are completely surrounded by mountainous fields. The kind that, ten years from now, will be subdivisions and strip malls. The house has a large garage, which from now on, I will refer to as my studio. We plan to do a large remodel because currently it is u g l y inside. Its a cute house, built in the thirties, but has been covered in every kind of vinyl, veneer, and shag known to man. I have sneaky suspicion that under the ceiling tiles is nice old bead board, one can only hope.

My baby has come home! This old Ford and I have a history together and finally on Monday she came home for good.

Last year, while shopping at our local book store for something for Shannon on Valentine's day, my little red truck was stolen by a rogue tow truck. My baby gone, I bought myself a nice shiny new Nissan Frontier. Long story short, the truck was found, but I had to sell my baby to my dad. He forced me to sit back and watch as he modified and terrorized my little Ford with terrible bumper stickers and silicone caulk. Now he needs a new truck and I saw my opportunity to swoop in, offering up my Nissan in order to be reunited with my little red Ford Ranger. I love her.

My work can now be purchased through Ferrin Gallery in Lenox MA. You could also purchase a piece at Hodges Taylor Gallery in Charlotte or Artemesia Gallery here in Asheville. All of these galleries have abstract work. I am posting one of my latest paintings, even though I said I was not going to, I can't help myself.

I hate brushes. How, you might ask, can I be a painter and hate brushes? Well, I don't accually hate the brush, I just can't stand to clean them. I buy the cheapest ones I possibly can, (they cost $1), and use them only once, then I throw them away. My "good" brushes are in a jar of babyoil, face down, that's right face down. The hairs on my detailing brush now have a twist that looks like the hair atop the head of Shoneys Big Boy, a twist off to the right. I try to make a line on my painting with it and five lines appear.

Most of the work on my paintings is done with a palette knife. I have to finesse the tool in order to keep from getting that palette knife look. Brushes are for dainty fingers, swish, swish, curl. Give me a palette knife, slash, slice, stab. No cleaning involved.

I have been taking notice of a house up the road from where Shannon and I live. A couple of days ago, a for sale sign showed up in the yard and my interest increased. I told Shannon about it, and although she was reluctant, she went with me to look at it. (the last time we went to "just look" at something we came home with a spaz dog).

Today we met with the realtor and got to look inside. It needs quite a bit of work, but the rooms are very large and the kitchen is vintage 1950's which Shannon just loved. Ok, so here is the kicker, it was owned by a musician who turned the small building out back into a large building out back. It has its own power source. Hello, can anyone say STUDIO, and I am talking large, with high ceilings, no windows - but I'm a handy guy, I can frame in windows. There are two separate rooms which will allow me to separate my wood work from my painting work. We are in the middle of running numbers, it looks like we will be able to swing it, as long as we never buy anything else, ever.

Lets talk about Max Beckmann, because lately he has gotten under my skin, (in a good way). I spent quite a bit of time in the "Beckmann" room at the St Louis Museum of Art. His work is complex. Slash after slash of paint is layered up into a chaotic frenzy, which ends up becoming a plant form, or a cityscape, or people. Beckmann's work embodies the two forms in art that I am striving to develop in my own painting, to simplify form through stylization, and to create complex paint surfaces. Its like taking a simple children's book illustration and painting it with a brush on the end of a ten foot pole while standing in a kayak floating in a pond. Basically that's what I am trying to achieve. Beckman was great at it.