I am not an abstract artist. I am also not a realist. I paint recognizable images, no mystery there; but the most difficult aspect of that is to create an image that transcends reality. Nature is perfect all by itself. It doesn’t need me to lamely attempt to replicate it. I spend most of my day as a painter trying to put a new twist on my vision of the world and hopefully by doing that, put a new twist on your vision of the world. That’s the hard part. If my painting just approximates nature, and does nothing more, I have failed.
I look for magic. The camera is my portal to the world, and it is through the camera that I am not exclusively, but often inspired; that’s no secret. The natural world is jaw dropping on its own, but I want to add color and drama and movement to it. I aspire to make images that stop the viewer mid-scroll (online) or mid-room. Good artists abound – it’s a fact. Work shown in a gallery competes with every other piece in the room. A work has to stand out. It must call from across the room for the viewer to come in for a closer look. And when the viewer arrives it should say it belongs to the artist who executed it and can be attributed to no other. I would hate for someone to mistake my work for the work of someone else… and people do like to compare artists and styles…
I recently had a conversation with a “part-time” painter who has been a painter for many years. He told me he did not think he could possibly paint all of the time. I understand this. I have been an artist all my life, but I have painted nearly every day for two years now (the last time I was able to do this I was in college), and can tell you I have nothing but admiration for anyone who makes art full-time, in whatever form they do it in, all the time, every day. First, it is difficult to do financially, for sure, but beyond that, it requires an extreme work ethic. Creating is hard work. Creating full-time is nearly ridiculous, but is an almost hallucinogenic high when you are successful. When you are not successful, it can be an excruciatingly painful low. Not many, I would guess, are cut out for that kind of emotional ride. I hate losing an image to mediocrity, but I can’t say it hasn’t happened.
And please, someone, shoot me if I ever resort to naming a piece “Prickley Pear #99”. I think titles put the final touch on a work of art. You can scroll over the image of the painting above to see it’s name.
