A couple of public works in progress . . .

I'm not pleased that my watercolor activity has been suspended, but promises have been made, and it's time to deliver. I'm finishing the last two paintings promised to the Martin High School library (where I teach). My Facebook contains the previous works from past years. I agreed to do a series of "book covers," each measuring 4' x 3', and arranged around the perimeter of the library. This week I worked on a Hemingway short story, and today I began Animal Farm. I have them posted above.

While working on Animal Farm, I received a surprise phone call from the editor of The Country Register. They have decided to publish one of my watercolors, Tell Me Where the Road Is, in the July-August issue of their free shopper. This will be distributed across Oklahoma and Arkansas. They published my Waxahachie Blue earlier this year. I cannot express my genuine pleasure to receive free advertising. It's been a rewarding day . . .

Return to Painting after a Brief Hiatus

Following a week of A.P. Art History at the Institute, it was nice to pick up the brush again on this hot Saturday morning. I drove the one-hour journey to Hillsboro, and set up outside Burson Gallery. The temperature climbed to 103, but I remained in the shade, and a heavenly breeze made the project durable. I began this composition on location on Business Hwy. 287 in Decatur, about 2-3 weeks ago. Now, thanks to a Hillsboro quiet, it is nearly complete. Time to move on to other half-finished works . . .

Kat, I miss you too . . .

Good morning, Kat,

I'm on a different computer, so I cannot access Facebook to answer your posts. But I wanted to say "Thank you" so much for reading my blogs--they are an important part of my day. Texas misses you too, and so do all of us. My music has been reduced to infinitesimal (sp?) proportions--but we WILL have that house concert this Christmas season, I've confirmed that. Instead I've been painting my heart out, and it's a very good thing for me right now.

Let me know how you are doing, Kat,

David

A Town That Time Forgot

This morning, early, I returned to Decatur to get a better look at the Whistlestop Cafe under direct sunlight (yesterday remained dark and stormy). I learned that this cafe has been in operation nonstop since 1929. I set up across the street and began a panoramic composition of the Cafe and the Petrified Wood Station down the street. I don't believe I have ever seen vintage gas pumps such as these anywhere except indoors at a museum or antique shop. These are still in place, in front of the station. The sun got pretty hot today, and the humidity was not pleasant. I have opted to finish this painting indoors in the days ahead.

A Meandering Odyssey of Plein Aire on a Dark Day

Today was a long one. My wife Sandi had a horse clinic to atttend, so we went our separate ways this morning, into the gathering darkness of lingering storms from last night. Once I got to downtown Fort Worth, the heavens opened and the rains came in cascades. I realized at that moment that I had left my painting stool in the garage (turned around!). Twenty-five minutes later, the stool retrieved, I returned to Fort Worth, and the rains were right there where I had left them. Drove through a monsoon that ended at West Loop 820. On to Weatherford. The skies dark, no shadows or highlights to be found anywhere. I thought about a grain elevator and train freight depot. Too dull. No light. Then I drove northward to find an old gas station I had painted earlier this year. No luck. On to Springtown. Then on to Decatur.

In Decatur, the light came out, and the winds picked up. On Old Business Highway 287 I found the string of businesses I had been invited to paint by the owner (last year when I displayed at Fort Worth's Jazz by the Boulevard). The businesses were a perfect time warp for "Recollections 54" (the name of my art company). I sat in front of my Jeep and sketched an old station, then added the Texaco sign (I thought it needed it). By 3:30 the sun was coming on strong (and the humidity). Mosquitoes were emerging from the swampy bar ditch beside me. I decided it best to come on home, and finish this one later, which I shall.

The day was long, but filled with sights and internal rewards.

Decompression Following the Festivals

The Nirvanic Calm Following the Festival Storm--already it's Wednesday, and it feels as though I just finished breaking down the tent, packing up the display antique door panels, loading crates of art and journeying back home (though I completed that three nights ago).

I am still weary, not having slept adequately the past ten nights (usually "wired" with the events surrounding me), but have returned to the health club after a week's hiatus, and am confident that the strength and energy will return.

Nearly every aspect of the past festival activities was a success. I won an honorable mention at the Plein Aire event, and with it came a large case of Liquitex heavy body acrylic tubes. More importantly, I was given the critique passed on by the judge (Bruce Peil, an accomplished plein aire artist who conducts workshops at his bed-and-breakfast in Athens, Texas). He noted that my drawing skills were good, but my shadows were dead, due to my dependence on black. He encouraged me to look more intently at the shadows, and see how they fluctuate between the warm and cool colors. He proposed mixing Cadmium Red and Ultramarine Blue for my "black" to paint as a base in the shadows. I plan to put this theory to work in my very next plein aire painting (which would have been today, had it not been so dark and overcast--and I still so tired!).

The other watercolors from the Waxahachie Paint Out are already posted. I was pleased to have sold the Honorable Mention winner--"Waxahachie Commerce" (headlining the previous blog post), along with the one titled "Not Coming Back" (previous blog) as well as the one painted during the Quick Draw on the opening day of festivities.

The Mansfield Festival went very well, with many pieces being sold, along with a surprise sale of one of my acrylic canvases, a Van Gogh-style painting called "Vincent's Dream" (posted at the top of today's blog). I wouldnt' have traded my conversations with fasinating festival patrons that day for anything in the world.

The Waxahachie Gingerbread Trail festival, in which I participated only Sunday (Mansfield the day before) was not so great, though I sold more work than I paid out in booth fees (so technically, not a loss), and I met many, many wonderful people and was given several significant leads. I also found out during that day that my watercolors had sold in the Chatauqua Pavilion from the plein aire event. I think the greatest part of Sunday was getting to visit with several of the plein aire artists again, including Ted Clemens, winner of the Best in Show at plein air, and Kent Brewer, another Honorable Mention winner.

I also came across a great blog from Tina Bohlman, First Place winner of the Waxahachie plein aire Paint Out, who also is featured in my recent Facebook photo album. Here is the link to her blog, which covers the Waxahachie event: http://tinabohlman.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-place-award.html

So, what now? Well, tonight I will attend my first meeting of the Southwestern Watercolor Society, which I joined last week. This would not have happened had I not had the surprise pleasure of meeting their Correspondence Secretary during the Waxahachie Quick Draw event (literally, in the middle of the event, while I was painting!). After visiting with her, I was convinced that this was a society I needed to join. I cannot wait to draw from their rich reservoir of resources.

And . . . right now my studio is knee-deep in crap. This happens especially in the weeks leading up to a gallery show or festival (and I have just finished both), when I stop putting things neatly away, drag out mats, foam core backing, art supplies, etc.--and the junk just turns my studio into a storage shed that can no longer be navigated. I have successully cleaned out and organized my huge closet--now I only have to do the same with the studio proper--none of this of course is interesting.

I'm never sure if anyone reads these blogs, but I'm dying to talk to other artists. If you're a "creator" (of art visual, literary or musical), would like to recommend three books I have just finished reading, and they're changing my life. They are written by accomplished artists/lecturers, and really hit the nerve of the creative process. They are:

Art & Fear, by David Bayles & Ted Orland
Creative Authenticy, by Ian Roberts
The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find their Way in an Uncertain World, by Ted Orland

Until later then . . .

Wrapping up the Plein-Aire experience

Well . . . after nearly a week of daily attempts at Waxahachie Plein-Aire painting, I finally created one I can proudly display. I started this one early Wednesday afternoon, drawing carefully for over an hour, and then laying in wash and attempting details. I quit at 7:00, disrupted by a shower, and later by overcast skies. I was not entirely happy with what I saw in the work. Returning today after school, and knowing I only had about 3 hours till deadline, I began laying in the painstaking details, and, I believe, saved the painting. Quite a few curious onlookers approached me throughout the afternoon, offering compliments once they saw the painting. The fellow artists back at the Ellis County Art Association also offered affirming words. As for myself, I'm pretty wiped out right now, but glad that I finally turned out a decent painting this week. The works will go on display tomorrow night at a barbecue for all the artists, and at least I'll have one in the show that doesn't embarrass me. I finally have some confidence that I'm going to "solve" this plein-aire experience. I have been totally blissful at the process, but not pleased with the final product. Until now.

Andy Warhol's "Factory" again . . .

Lots of rain today. So I chose not to go to Waxahachie's Plein Aire (my first absence since it began last Friday). Instead I spent the entire afternoon and evening printing about 60 art image greeting cards, a few more reproductions, then matted and shrinkrapped over a dozen works for this weekend's show. I was in the full-bore factory production mode again, channeling Andy Warhol. I played one of his documentary videos while I worked in the dining room. The communion was sweet, and I'm still saddened by his passing, over 20 years later.

Skimpy Accounting for the day

Well . . . I had to return to the classroom today, and then do some business for my back-to-back festivals this coming weekend. So I didn't get to the plein aire event until late this afternoon, and did not paint long before heavy cloud cover obliterated the quality light. I barely got started on a grain elevator behind the feed store (but spent nearly an hour drawing it before I began painting). All this to say that there is nothing worthy of a photo record.

However, I did meet two fascinating oil painters at the same location. Both are extremely talented in their work, and one of them I found to be very engaging in philosophic and aesthetic discourse. I think I've found an incredible colleague with whom I can discuss ideas openly. I look forward to meeting these men tomorrow.

Today, the third day of the Waxahachie "Paint Out," I finally got to see many other artists at work, and spend some time conversing with them. Here are a few selected shots of them, along with the two watercolors I completed today. The old house reminded me of the wonderful Andrew Wyeth drybrush works, and I tried really hard to capture some of that technique (tried--I'll go to my grave wondering how Wyeth rendered some of his paint-peeled siding the way he did). The other painting is the abandoned rails found near the Feed Store I painted yesterday. I was smitten with the deep darkness of the forest beyond (even though it was about 1:30 in the afternoon), and tried to capture the contrasting deep interior with the sunwashed weeds in the foreground and canopy of leaves above. Of course, I always balk at painting pure landscape, so here are the technological intrusions of rails, utility poles and power lines.

It was another rewarding day for painting. The sun didn't get too awfully hot, and my motivation remained, even when the hours stretched into the later afternoon.

Day Two of Waxahachie's Plein Aire event

The day began at 10:00 with a 90-minute "Quick Draw" featuring 35 artists on the courthouse square. At noon, the paintings were auctioned. I found the ninety minutes extremely challenging, though I felt relaxed enough to chat with one of the onlookers for about 15 minutes or so (I guess I wasn't so uptight after all). At any rate, the time was over in a hurry, and I was happy that my painting sold. I did photograph it before releasing it.

There were many fabulous paintings created in this brief space of time. I couldn't believe the speed and skill I witnessed from these painters today.

After the auction, I moved away from the town square and gave a few of the afternoon hours to painting the local feed store. Three hours and 8 bottles of water later, I decided to call it a day. I'm exhausted, but cannot wait until tomorrow.

End of Day One at Waxahachie Plein Aire event

I feel too exhausted to blog, but I really believe in this, so here goes. Rose at 6:00, taught school till 12:20, then loaded the Jeep and headed to Waxahachie to register for the Paint-Out, and then go to the square to scout a subject for water coloring. I found it--The 1879 Chisholm Grill. I began at 3:00 and ended at 6:00, when the courthouse bell tolled behind me. The weather was a delicious 88 degrees, I sat in the shade of a huge tree, and time evaporated as I stared at the restaurant and tried to capture it on paper. All the while, I enjoyed fabulous conversations with onlookers, including a couple of women from Arlington and Fort Worth (always nice to have people from back home say "hello"). Also met some of the other painters, including two women from Grandbury who had give part of the day to painting the railroad depots nearby.

Here are some photos of my painting station. I'm glad the Paint Out started so positively. Now I need some sleep, so I can go after it again tomorrow!

Channeling Andy Warhol and his Factory

It's getting closer to showtime. A week from Saturday, I begin my back-to-back festival participation, with my booth set up in Mansfield, then Waxahachie. Since I leave tomorrow to begin the plein aire event, I'll have only evenings to mat and shrinkwrap my art work.

This evening, I dragged out the mat cutter and various materials, and decided to put on the video documentary Warhol: Portrait of an Artist. I've always been amused at his reference to "The Factory"--the converted hat factory where he produced all his silkscreens and various reproductions. As showtime neared, Andy went into "factory mode" and his items were all "factory made." Listening to the documentary play while I cut mats for a stack of prints of my watercolors was a rewarding experience, and it certainly moved the time by much more efficiently. After days and days of painting and sketching, it is nice to take an evening off from that, and just enjoy the "factory" experience.

Thanks Andy. Life isn't the same in the commercial art world without you. We miss you.

My Waxahachie Painting has been Published

This could be good timing. I certainly didn't see it coming, but I'll take it! The Country Register has just come out, with my watercolor titled "Waxahachie Blue"on the cover. The publishers have given me several hundred issues to distribute while I'm painting in Waxahachie, and later from my booth at the Gingerbread Trail Arts & Crafts Festival.

Anxieties are trying to creep up behind me. In 48 hours, I begin my week-long plein aire "paint out" at historic Waxahachie, followed immediately by back-to-back festivals, Saturday in Mansfield and Sunday back in Waxahachie. The booth set-up and break-down between the consecutive events will in itself be maddening. And of course, throughout this I will be finishing out the last week of school. I know--it sounds like a suicide course, but I just did not want to pass on this opportunity of "total immersion" in the arts. Such opportunities are extremely rare. School isn't. So Idecided to say "Yes" to the art schedule, and expect it to be sublime.

I have no regrets that I am a part-time artist and full-time teacher. Both worlds feed each other, and inspiration for me seldom runs dry. I'll take it. Frankly, I don't maximize my time when I have it in abundance. If I were a full-time artist, no doubt I would be filling gaps in my lean schedule with time-wasters, instead of pushing out paintings with a passion. The painting tends to come on strong when I have to struggle to steal time and do it.

Prophets, Channeling and Authenticity

Eric Tiner, a former student and fellow Artistic Spirit, peaked my interest with a recent question about the prophetic word. I've been puzzling over that phenomena in the art milieu.

I was brought up in a conservative Christian church, and though I've changed in many ways throughout the decades, I have always believed and embraced the power of the Word, spoken as well as written. I believe there are many "prophetic" voices in our milieu. I'm not carried away by politicians (in fact I'm cynical about them), but Obama has certainly held my attention for over a year now, and I am amazed at how his "message" resonates with me at least weekly. Something rings true and authentic in his message, to me personally. And in the arts, I'm always seeking that authentic Word.

But I think the Word is more than language spoken and written--in Hebrew it is an event, an act. And that kind of prophetic word nails me continually in the art enterprise. The "prophets" that shake me to the foundations include Robert Motherwell, Mark Rothko, Henri Matisse, Andrew Wyeth (and oh, how I grieved at his recent passing), Edward Hopper and Winslow Homer. Since I'm a practicing water colorist, I do indeed fell a close communion with those above-mentioned who poured their lives into making sublime watercolor pieces.

I don't consider my work sublime, but I certainly know beyond doubt that the Act of making art is infinitely sublime. When I engage in creating art, I feel that authentic Word, that Presence, and when "It" happens, I can hardly breathe, the excitement is so intense.

Above, I've posted "Malone, Texas," my last completed watercolor that has been put in the Burson Gallery that opened last Saturday night in Hillsboro, Texas. Malone is a small town south of Hillsboro. I was fly fishing on some private waters south of there last summer, and as I returned home, passing through Malone, I was arrested at the sight of the ghost sign Bright and Early Coffee and . . . splashed on the brick wall of some defunct dining establishment. I saw the sun-splashed ghost sign through the darkened tunnel of a derelict filling station awning just south of the building, and the contrasting light and shadows from the late-afternoon sun held my attention long enough to pull over the Jeep, take a digital photograph, and then . . . after a few months of "composting" the image, frame it up in a watercolor composition.

My company is called Recollections 54 (my birth year), and my subject matter is the remnant fossils of businesses and habitations that flourished throughout the fifties. These architectural ruins are fading from the American landscape, but will not fade from my memory. My artistic enterprise is to give them life and form once again. So that we may remember. So that we may still be seized by the elusive Prophetic Word, the Proustian memory.

Inching Closer to the Waxahachie Paint-Out

2:04 a.m., Tuesday morning
26 May 2009

In just a few days I begin a new adventure. I will join 48 other artists in historic Waxahachie for an eight-day Plein Aire event. It begins Friday, May 29. This is the reason for my recent obsession with painting outdoors on location--I just haven't been doing it over these past two decades. The anxieties are beginning to subside as I've been doing work almost daily in Old Towne Burleson. I'm really beginning to believe that I can create quality works outdoors. I'm looking forward to the event, and joining the lifestyle championed by the likes of J. M. W. Turner, Winslow Homer, Edward Hopper and Andrew Wyeth.

Painting en plein aire

Memorial Day, May 25, 2009
5:54 p.m.

My water color lifestyle has changed profoundly. Every painting created in the past 20 years has been done in the studio, depending on photographs I had made on location. No doubt this was due, not only to climate comfort, but also the amount of gear I thought necessary to create a decent painting. All that changed last week. From my posted photos, you'll see the amount of "crap" I lugged about in a large crate to create my art. Now I work exclusively from a hand-sized box, without losing any quality in materials, thanks to Winsor & Newton. I had no idea that this manufacturer of professional-grade water color pigments actually sold "field boxes" like the ones I had used made by Prang, Crayola, and other "schoolboy" manufacturers.

My discovery occurred while reading Watercolors by Winslow Homer: The Color of Light, the beautiful museum catalog I purchased while viewing his show at the Art Institute of Chicago in April 2008. He used a Winsor & Newton field kit, prompting me to go online with Blick Materials.com, and lo and behold--there it was! I am now working on my first watercolor with the kit, and am thrilled at the quality of the colors.

Maybe Remmie was wrong in Jack Kerouac's On the Road--maybe you CAN teach the old maestro new tricks!