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| Charcoal and pastel on paper/18"x 24" |
This is an effort to share my work and the experience of making it. Comments and criticism are sought and most appreciated. The images posted are my original work and I retain exclusive rights to distribution and use. No images may be copied or used in any fashion in any jurisdiction without the express written consent of the artist. All rights are reserved.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Whelk
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| 11" x 14" oil on board |
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
| Charcoal and pastel on paper/18" x 24"/2014 |
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Thoughts
My studio time has been frequent these last couple of months although something other than art always seems to call for my attention. Keeps you grounded, I guess.
Working on a series of oils depicting shells. Generally small pieces but 20 or so in some stage of completion. Very fun.
I've been engaged with the ocean and the stuff that appears on the shore for as long as I can remember. As a child on Good Harbor beach in Gloucester I can recall swimming to retrieve long, long strands of floating seaweed (kelp?), thick and flexible looking like huge pieces of tan undulating pasta and pulling it along the edge of the sand where it just met the water, swinging it just above the surface a little like a whip. Shells seem to have caught my attention later as I probed the sand, sifting and searching for the tiniest spiraled remnants of former sea creature habitation. Whatever the activity, being on that ocean edge and examining what the sea tossed up and maybe pulled back only to redeposit was and remains a commitment.
In fact, just a few days ago I retrieved some sort of plastic coated metal object that maybe was used for holding bait and was put over the side of a boat to attract fish....something to hold bait other than a hook. Fascinating to me far more so than actually using it...fishing never appealed to me just the archeological shoreline searching.
Edges, margins, spaces, time, replacement or regeneration. I like feel comfortable being aware of those things perhaps more so than abandoning myself to a fuller participation in other activities.
Here's an image of Gloucester I did in 2000. It's hanging in a home in the Midwest.
Working on a series of oils depicting shells. Generally small pieces but 20 or so in some stage of completion. Very fun.
I've been engaged with the ocean and the stuff that appears on the shore for as long as I can remember. As a child on Good Harbor beach in Gloucester I can recall swimming to retrieve long, long strands of floating seaweed (kelp?), thick and flexible looking like huge pieces of tan undulating pasta and pulling it along the edge of the sand where it just met the water, swinging it just above the surface a little like a whip. Shells seem to have caught my attention later as I probed the sand, sifting and searching for the tiniest spiraled remnants of former sea creature habitation. Whatever the activity, being on that ocean edge and examining what the sea tossed up and maybe pulled back only to redeposit was and remains a commitment.
In fact, just a few days ago I retrieved some sort of plastic coated metal object that maybe was used for holding bait and was put over the side of a boat to attract fish....something to hold bait other than a hook. Fascinating to me far more so than actually using it...fishing never appealed to me just the archeological shoreline searching.
Edges, margins, spaces, time, replacement or regeneration. I like feel comfortable being aware of those things perhaps more so than abandoning myself to a fuller participation in other activities.
Here's an image of Gloucester I did in 2000. It's hanging in a home in the Midwest.
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| 18" x 24"/pastel on paper |
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Oil figure/portrait
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Broken Whelk/2014
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| c. 3" x 7"/ink on paper |
So, I've completed four pieces and am well into the fifth. Whelks in various stages of fractured status have been the subjects so far but I'm going to move on to oysters and clams next. The image below is my rendition of an oyster shell. More later!
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| 6" x 9"/ink on paper |
Thursday, July 10, 2014
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