GALLERY
To acquire signed limited editions of paintings displayed in this gallery, please direct inquiries to: karen@lutesadvertising.com or call 503-799-4974.
All works are printed in high-resolution using UV-resistant inks on hand-stretched canvases with real wood stretcher bars (please specify ¾” or 1½” depth). All sizes in proportion to the size listed with each painting may be obtained. Floating frames are also available. Museums or collectors may specify archival printing. Paintings can also be printed on paper, acrylic or metal.
“Afternoon Sun”
36” x 24” canvas shown
In June of 2022, while soaking in the sun on a balcony above the Pacific in Huatulco, Mexico, my wife, Karen, uttered six words that changed our lives forever: “I could get used to this.” Within a couple of weeks, we had thoroughly studied the possibilities of becoming expats, purchased an oceanfront condo in Mazatlán, bought another home in Central Oregon for the summers and listed our house in Southern California to fund it all. Although we tend to live spontaneously – cancer patients like me can be that way – it’s turning out to be the best decision we ever made. Spending a few sun-soaked minutes each day watching the pelicans dive in the surf is something I’d recommend for anyone. This painting, completed in February of 2023, is a study of light and textures. The mezzotint background represents both waves of sunlight and the intricate mosaics that can be found most anywhere in Mexico. Light reveals the weave of her simple cotton shirt and reflects the horizon in her shades.
“Rift”
60 cm x 90 cm canvas shown
Under the Pacific, about 70 miles off the Oregon coast, lies the Cascadian Subduction Zone, a 700-mile fault line that over the past 10,000 years has been responsible for 43 earthquakes. Undoubtedly, it’s not done shaping our western shore. And while earthquakes and the tsunamis they trigger raise havoc for people residing nearby, there is certainly beauty in what the Cascadian Subduction Zone has perpetually sculpted – the Oregon Coast is breathtaking. “Rift” is an abstract bird’s-eye view attempting to depict that splendor deep in the ocean. Most artists who have thrown, splashed or dripped paint onto a canvas in a seemingly random manner owe a debt to Jackson Pollock. I’m one of them. Except my process doesn’t make a mess of my studio. I do it on my computer by using a wide variety of digital brushes and spattering tools, then I continuously reshape where the colors land onto complex backgrounds which are custom gradients that I’ve formulated. Sounds complicated I know, but it’s definitely an enjoyable process.
“Physis”
120 cm x 80 cm canvas shown
Inspired by the great Guatemalan-Mexican artist Carlos Merida who was a pioneer in fusing modern European painting to Latin American themes, I painted “Physis,” which can be roughly translated from ancient Greek into the word “nature.” I find it fascinating to sketch whimsical animals and shapes and then infuse them with color.
“House of Cards”
36” x 24” canvas shown
While admiring the painting “Black dots on orange-red squares” (1969) by the Hungarian-French artist Victor Vasarely at the Tucson Museum of Art, I wondered what it would look like to paint black dot patterns on gradients (rather than solid) colors and then arrange them on multiple planes. After hours of experimentation, I was pleased with this result.
“The Appian Way”
36” x 24” canvas shown
“Pines of the Appian Way” is the epic 4th Movement of Respighi’s “Pines of Rome,” a work I had the pleasure of performing with both orchestra and symphonic band. Obviously, my take on the Appian Way is a tad more abstract, but the music’s ageless message flows through the cellist, who is depicted somewhat transparently.
“It’s All About the Music”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Keith Haring, who tragically left us at the age of 31, was in my opinion a certifiable genius. Haring didn’t create the genre of repeated simplistic (almost primitive) figures, he perfected it, by adding movement and humanity to his subjects through his signature accent strokes. In his spirit, I drew dozens of simple figures before settling on this rather versatile musician/dancer. Place him upright (like the two figures near the center at the top of the canvas) and he looks like Elvis at the end of a show, kneeling while raising his arm in triumph. Now look slightly below until you see the reddish colored shape of a Fender Stratocaster. Towards the bottom of that guitar, you’ll see Springsteen and Van Sandt sliding across the stage during “Born to Run” (yeah, I know Bruce plays a Telecaster but Stevie plays a Strat). Rotate the figure in other directions and he/she looks like a dancer absolutely feeling the music. The motion is created entirely by the simple accent strokes. The figures literally fly off the vibrantly colored background. Critics may call this work derivative, which I’d consider a compliment. It’s certainly not a Haring, but I sure enjoyed creating it.
“Cerritos Sunset I”
120 cm x 80 cm canvas shown
Living near the 23rd parallel the sunsets seem endless, which gives my wife and I plenty of time to sit on our lanai and enjoy them. Artists have been depicting sunsets for centuries, in many cases spectacularly, so I decided one evening to begin a series of paintings approaching the subject in abstract terms.
“Pronghorn”
36” x 24” canvas shown
While working on a painting of the Tetons, I spent several hours perfecting the palette and brush strokes required to create compelling native grasses. That landscape I eventually scrapped, feeling that the mountains, barn and grassland I had painted were incongruous in style. But I did use the grasses for another work, adding a pronghorn and gradient horizon in the background. This result pleased me, once again proving the artist’s adage I often forget: less can be better.
“Quilt of Smiles”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Karen and I count ourselves as fortunate to have friends in Amish communities. The artistry of Amish quilts is phenomenal, especially those created by groups. As I was digitally piecing together the luminous colors and beams of light into a quilt-like pattern, gaps appeared in the shape of a smile. I soon filled them with reds and started imagining what Andy Warhol would look like in a buggy.
“Mole, Mole, Mole”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Open most any Protestant hymnal and right there on page one you’ll find the triumphant processional “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Regardless of your personal theological leanings, it’s flat out hard not to gush with religious fervor when you get the chance to taste the moles of Oaxaca, Mexico. Heaven on pollo, carnitas, pescado, carne asada… just about anything, moles are sauces of vast complexity, prized family recipes passed down from generation to generation. I started “Mole, Mole, Mole” by painting three pieces of Mexican pottery. The heroine, wearing traditional Oaxacan garb and silver earrings, is 100% focused on the mole she is serving. The whirling background, meant to suggest extraordinary flavor, is a complex mixture of transparent local colors, each underlit by a layer of deep browns below.
“Hombre Pájaro”
20” x 16” canvas shown
From our lanai in Mazatlán we have a clear view of Isla de Pajaros (“Bird Island” in gringo-speak). And while we’ve yet to take a boat ride to visit, I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time wondering what’s out there. Trust me, hombre pájaro (“birdman”) isn’t a resident species. Consider him a product of my twisted mind. Technically speaking, I started by drawing the outline of a paper airplane – six of them can be seen in the birdman’s body and wings. After completing the outline by adding a variety of geometric shapes, I colored it by adjusting custom gradients. Finally I added the metallic square background splattered with muted colors.
“The Frisbee”
60 cm x 40 cm canvas shown
Those serious about Frisbee tend to be less serious about life. I’m one of them. Rarely do they ask how a plastic disc can soar so far, remain aloft so long, or create such beautifully arched patterns of flight. In fact, Frisbee devotees are perfectly content just hurling it back and forth for hours, or in my case for years.
Frisbees are rather dull before they are spun airborne. So a depiction of one should show motion abstractly and colors subtly, which is what I attempted to do painting one. Stand back to look at the image and you’ll see a Frisbee in flight. At least I do.
“Coat of Arms”
12” x 12” canvas shown
Digital painting has few, if any, boundaries. While thinking about the latest trip to Ireland my wife, Karen, was planning for us, it struck me that although The Emerald Isle still is a land of ancient traditions, it has also emerged as a bit of a high-tech mecca. So after playing around creating some interesting patterns, I decided to turn one of my favorites into a high-tech coat of arms with an Irish flavor. For the background, I blew up the pattern and turned it into an off-white overlay, sort of like the etchings on a circuit board. Sláinte!
“Just Charge It”
60” x 40” canvas shown
This started with what I term a quilting square, that when colored looked like a highly generic credit card. So I created a number of versions, before arranging them into a 3D quilt. Then, using various digital brushes, I painted celebratory swirls. The message was to shed light onto the global fascination with the instant credit economy. Yes, it’s extremely convenient for consumers, but millions of people find themselves buried by spiraling debt exasperated by interest rates they’d never accept if they were considering a loan. Who wins? The giant global credit card issuers, instantly earning a percentage of every purchase. Easy money, as they say.
“Daybreak on Copper Mountain”
24” x 36” canvas shown
I’ve long had a fascination with Cubists like Braque, Gris and Picasso, particularly admiring their earthy palettes. While certainly not Cubist, “Daybreak on Copper Mountain” expresses some of the same sensibilities of time, space and light through more sinuous shapes.
“Urban Texture I”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Over the years, my wife Karen and I have built or remodeled 14 different homes and in the process I’ve had a blast functioning as a strictly-amateur architect. I remain fascinated with the possibilities of three-dimensional shape, color, texture and light. Of course it’s a lot less expensive to experiment with visuals on my computer than it is with actual building materials. “Urban Texture I” is an example of my theory that the beauty of cities isn’t always seen in the skylines, but rather, in the architectural details.
“Constellations”
47” x 31” canvas shown
Study Aztec and Mayan artwork and it’s fascinating to discover how much life they could infuse into two dimensional depictions of animals. The simpler, the better. I spent several days creating dozens of abstract animals out of polygons and a variety of stars. To do so, I’d manipulate the various vertices – often adding additional ones – to change the lengths and positions of the sides until an animal or aquatic creature would emerge. Then I’d add eyes to give each one personality. Much fun. After applying color and arranging the creatures into a dense background tapestry, I used larger versions of each animal in white outlines to create the constellations. Stare at the night sky for hours and if you’re like me you may only be able to identify the Big Dipper. Locating Gemini, Sagittarius or even Orion requires quite an imagination, or perhaps an adult beverage or five. But that’s what’s great about stars. They can be anything you want them to be.
“Shimmering Turquoise”
36” x 24” canvas shown
When asked what this painting represents, some see a swimming pool, some the skin of a tropical plant, while others wisely admit they have no clue. Neither do I. So instead of coyly suggesting: “you’ll know it when you see it”, I’ll state that the only purpose of “Shimmering Turquoise” is perpetual thought and conversation, two worthy goals.
“The Ties That Bind”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Yes, I stole the name for this painting from a Springsteen song. It just sounded appropriate. It’s also the name of a great novel by Kent Haruf. The painting started with the outlines of two basic boomerang shapes facing each other (which produced a somewhat curved rhombus in the center). After applying a variety of colors, I began arranging the boomerang pairs into chains, which I then twisted into a complex woven pattern. The final work contains several thousand boomerangs, I never bothered counting, but you’re welcome to do it if you’re really bored someday. More fun is to stare at particular colors in “The Ties That Bind” and see the different patterns that appear. Concentrate on the turquoise and you’ll see wagon wheels or baskets. Stare at the yellow and you might see horseshoes or even a sun in the lower left portion of the painting. Ponder the deep purples and you may see flowers emerge. And while you’re at it, blast the Springsteen song, and feel free to sing along.
“Shore Leave”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Reading the newspaper one morning my eye was drawn to a photo of sailors on shore leave. I found the quiet dignity of one of the sailors moving, so I decided she deserved a painting. While sketching, I couldn’t help but think that our Navy is in great hands. I also thoroughly enjoyed creating the fictional skyline, itself an exercise in perspective. As imposing as the buildings are, they pale in significance to the sailor. In the words of Theodore Roosevelt: “A good Navy is not a provocation to war. It is the surest guaranty of peace.”
“Fernando the Fly”
17.75” x 24” canvas shown
In all sincerity, I owe most things in life to my awesome wife Karen. For example, this painting. For several years we’ve both been enamored with and collected Alebrijes, which are brightly colored Mexican folk-art sculptures of mythical creatures. The night before I painted “Fernando the Fly,” Karen had taken a class from a local Mazatlán artist to attempt to learn the basics of the artform herself. I thought that the dragon-like Alebrijes she hand-painted that first evening was rather amazing. Inspired, I decided to create my own mythical creature using my own techniques.
“Smile… damn it”
36” x 24” canvas shown
No, it wasn’t Forest Gump who first created the smiley face. Many have claimed it, but it’s now generally accepted that Harvey Ross Ball, a Massachusetts graphic artist and ad man, first drew the now-universally-familiar smiley face for an insurance company ad campaign attempting to raise employee moral after a series of unpopular mergers and acquisitions. The image took him ten minutes for which he received $45. No one is sure whether morale was actually boosted, but the company produced thousands of buttons, posters and signs simply to encourage their staff to smile more. They might have remained grumpy, but the rest world sure got the point. I first began doodling various adaptations of smiley faces while attempting to stay awake in school. This painting of my latest variation adds bright morale-boosting colors, mezzotint textures and a multidimensional perspective. I call it “Smile… damn it,” which is what that insurance company should have told their staff. Would have saved them 45 bucks.
“Mayan Map”
40” x 40” canvas shown
The name is – of course – tongue in cheek, but I find it interesting to roughly freehand patterns that have some resemblance to Mayan designs. The background was created by mixing multiple colors into a custom gradient, then flipping a duplicate copy and superimposing it (at approximately 1/3rd opacity) over the original to create smudging. Of course my grandkids will say this painting looks like one of those mazes they print on children’s menus in restaurants. And of course – as is usually the case – they would be right.
“The Red Piano”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I grew up playing on an upright, but a few decades ago I was lucky enough to be able to acquire a piano that truly sings – a 6’ Kawai grand that I had played years ago in a night club. Karen and I have now moved it to six different homes in three states, but it still sounds great. Ours is black, but a piano always takes on the color of the music you’re playing, so in this painting it’s red. As autobiographical as this work is, that’s not me in the painting. I haven’t had a beard since college and the pianist depicted appears to be in far better shape than yours truly.
“In the Words of Hemingway”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Huatulco, Mexico is the kind of place where Hemingway would have felt at home – where drinks are poured with stories, where marlin fight for hours, yet time stands still. Think of it as nirvana, just better. My only goal one perfect Huatulco morn was to paint a fighting marlin. An abstract raging sea background soon followed, textured by a passage from “The Old Man and the Sea,” because no one could describe a marlin quite like Hemingway.
“The Quest for Speed”
36” x 24” canvas shown
My son, Brock, and his significant other, Sarah, recently purchased a training center for youth, collegiate and professional athletes (Power Sports Performance in Vancouver, WA – how’s that for a not-so-subtle plug). While helping them develop a logo, I drew this rapidly accelerating powerful runner and decided he deserved a painting. Weight and resistance training are highly advantageous for all sports, but there’s no substitute for speed, which also can be developed. Yet “The Quest for Speed” is nothing new, thus the hieroglyphics in the painting’s mezzotint background. Like Sisyphus of Greek mythology, this runner expects many more laps, which he actually yearns for having discovered that the journey is the reward.
“Tropical Equation”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Have you ever stared at a blackboard and pictured anything but what the teacher or professor was trying to illustrate? I have… for the better part of my academic career. In some cases, I simply wanted to be anywhere but the classroom, on a tropical island for example. So I’d doodle. Many decades later, I’m still doodling, but now those thoughts are in color.
“Pulpo”
120 cm x 80 cm canvas shown
I learn something every time I try a new work. In this case it was that by spending a couple of days painting suckers of various sizes and shapes, you can create a great deal of depth and even movement in the depiction of an octopus’s arms and tentacles. You can actually make them twist. I called the painting “Pulpo,” the Spanish name for octopus, which to me has a nice ring to it.
“St Elias”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Early one Mazatlán morning – after an evening of perhaps too much tequila consumption with our fascinating Canadian neighbors Dean and Shianna – I began to ponder what their lives had been like while working as oil industry geologists in more frigid temperatures. We’ve spent a lot of time in Canada, but admittedly much further south than the St Elias Mountains, which I imagined while sketching the peaks and ridges of this painting using a style reminiscent of the great German art duo Golden Cosmos (Doris Freigofas and Daniel Dolz). The turbulent sky was created by placing a series of wide translucent rough brush strokes over top of a custom gradient. I then applied shadow to the poster-like mountains, which added depth. Much fun, but if Dean ever offers you shots from his favorite tequila bottle – the one with the snake in it – the wise answer is “no gracias.”
“Stained Glass I”
90 cm x 60 cm canvas shown
As a student, I earned much of my income by singing professionally in various churches; meaning, I sat through plenty of sermons, most of which weren’t all that compelling to listen too. If the choir loft was in the rear of the sanctuary, us “hired guns” could pass the time inconspicuously reading, doodling or even playing poker. But when the choir was seated directly behind the preacher, we had to be more creative coming up with ways to keep our eyes open. I liked to stare at the stained-glass windows. “Stained Glass I” wasn’t one of them. It’s simply an abstract interpretation of the beauty that occurs when sunlight passes through colored glass.
“American Egret”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I consider myself a patriot, but understand that patriotism requires recognition of our fallbacks as well as our pride. “American Egret’s” flaglike background is both rigid and flowing, appearing somewhat coarse to the touch. Like we sometimes appear to foreigners. I resisted the temptation to paint an eagle, choosing instead the humbler, yet perhaps more graceful egret – a bird that thanks to environmental protection now breeds in healthier numbers.
“Kealia”
24” x 36” canvas shown
A challenge for even local surfers, Kealia Beach lies on Kauai’s east shore just north of Kapa’a. When Karen and I visited, the swells on the north end pounded the reef, something I hoped to capture in this abstract depiction. The continuation of the sunburst coloring from her board to her body was intentional. You are what you ride.
“Silver”
24” x 24” canvas shown
Yet another exploration in “post cubism”, this time using a predominantly silver palette with repeated graceful lines. In this painting take notice of the organic shapes formed by the spaces, particularly the four small leaves in the very center… brings to mind my favorite Mozart quotation: “The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between.”
“Racimo de Uvas”
24” x 36” canvas shown
A half dozen times a year, the galleries and shops of Mazatlán’s remarkably preserved Centro district stage an evening Art Walk. It’s not to be missed. What struck me most about the local artists was their jubilant splashes of color and unapologetic jagged brushwork. Of course, the next morning, I set out to create a work of my own in that spirit. Roughly translated, Racimo de Uvas means “bunch of grapes,” which is the shape I hoped to capture (perhaps in honor of the Art Walk’s complimentary wine). Starting with a rough outline created of coarse violet V’s, I then added the teal outlines using different brushwork. Later, I filled it in with organic airbrushed shapes, each outlined in a solid color. Using yet another brush, I added sinuous ribbons of colors on top. The final stage was a luminous custom gradient background. Don’t take anything about this painting literally, it’s simply a splash of colors to be experienced.
“The Winds of Rebirth”
36” x 12” canvas shown
Living amidst the grandeur of the American West like we do requires an understanding that wildfires are nothing new, but rather an essential element of the continual rebirth of our forests. If we are to exist in harmony with nature, we must accept its cycles and manage our own impact. The background of “The Winds of Rebirth” is an abstract representation of a burning mountain range – dangerous yet alive and beautiful. The winds (which are both an instigator and byproduct of wildfires) are depicted by a whimsical natural creature drawn in swirls of movement. I’ve long admired simplistic traditional illustrations of nature, particularly by indigenous artists. The goal in this case is added dimension by drawing a creature that twists in the wind and is formed by it.
“Yellowfin”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Whether you call it yellowfin or ahi, this delicious and nutritious tuna is always an impressive sight, especially in the wild. Before creating the underwater background, I spent significant time studying the “bleeding color” of watercolorists and artists working with tissue papers. In both cases, it is the intersection of transparent colors that creates such interesting hues. In this painting I used custom mixed gradients (rather than solid colors) to add even more complexity, layering them with shadow and ample opacity. The flowing shapes suggest ocean currents.
“Rhythms of Panama”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Another adventure in “post cubism” (whatever that’s supposed to mean), I painted “Rhythms of Panama” during our February 2022 visit to Playa Bonita on the southwest shore. The patterns of color, portraying local fauna and the sea, emerge in growing waves from the lower right. I’d pompously tell you they mimic the prevailing winds, but I have no idea if that’s true.
“Imagine”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Often credited with inventing the light bulb, in actuality Edison merely improved it. But guys from New Jersey (where I was raised and Edison had his heyday) never let facts stand in the way of a good story. The light bulb did indeed improve the quality of our lives, or at least allowed us to stay up until Letterman came on. And while Edison often took the credit others deserved, you have to admit he had a heck of an imagination. In that spirit, this painting attempts to depict light, commerce and ambiguity.
“Cerritos Sunset II”
120 cm x 80 cm canvas shown
Having once recorded a song titled “Never Miss a Sunset,” I take my own advice as often as possible. Here’s an abstract look at what my wife and I are fortunate enough to experience on a daily basis. Typically I observe the spectacle through the camera lens of a Pacifico bottle.
“Flight of the Bow Ties”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Is there anything quite as pretentious and useless as the bow tie? Not that I hold an opinion, but if all the bow ties in the world would suddenly flutter away, I’d feel no sorrow. “Flight of the Bow Ties” began with the herringbone background in a bold red gradient. The abstract bow ties, in varying levels of semitransparent white, literally fly off the canvas lifted through increasing degrees of drop shadow. Good riddance.
“Hana Wind”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Located on the eastern tip of Maui and accessible only by ridiculously winding roads, when you finally reach Hana it seems like no place on earth, or at least no place in America. Yet Hana has an American zip code, so in this painting, each flower’s pistil is instead a star. The vibrant colors and floral abundance, however, are pure Hana. Fun fact: Karen E. Lewis, the phenomenal plein air painter, owned a couple of Hana oceanfront condos. Imagine arriving at your Airbnb and finding it was full of Lewis originals. It was.
“Soaring”
36” x 12” canvas shown
Long sunsets sometime take on a quilted pillowy look, almost like a down comforter. In this painting, the swirling birds are semi-transparent to blend in with the sunset. The extreme horizontal proportions of the painting mirror the perspective of an actual sunset.
“It Starts with Scales”
36” x 24” canvas shown
One afternoon, while listening to a band I’d never heard before (The California Honeydrops), I was blown away by the sax player. So, to give credit where credit is due, Johnny Bones is a beast. But before he got so soulful, I’m guessing Mr. Bones (as the NY Times would refer to him, which sounds like something hanging in a science classroom) started the way all great players do, with scales. In the case of this painting, the graphic scale-like patterns began with a simple boomerang shape, repeated in various colors, sizes and angles to form abstract sound waves that resonate through the musician. I found The California Honeydrops to be instant energy. Definitely fun to paint to.
“Options”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Our lives are filled with decisions. To complicate matters, most of those decisions require multiple other decisions. Rarely is the correct answer obvious. But, as a friend of mind always pointed out to our players as we were coaching basketball: “the only bad decision is no decision.” “Options” is a painting on numerous intersecting planes. The arrows that appear never point in the same direction. The colors are all semitransparent, representing the interrelationships of our options. Yet in combination, those colors produce additional complex hues, often richer and more interesting. At least that’s my opinion… the decision of course is yours.
“Use It or Lose It”
24” x 36” canvas shown
As Shakespeare eloquently put it: “aging sucks”. Well maybe he would have said it if he’d lived to be older than 52. As a mature (the nice way to refer to us geriatrics) guy battling cancer, I’ve long subscribed to the theory of “Use It or Lose It”. Sure, as a card-carrying representative of the male species, I spend far too many hours parked on the recliner, but I do make sure to hike, bike, run in the pool or hit the gym on a daily basis. To this point, that’s kept me “above ground”, as they say. I mentioned earlier in this site that I’m in awe of Keith Haring, so I spent a morning drawing simplistic figures depicting the movements of aerobic exercise. After arranging them in a tight jubilant pattern, I built a colorful background on multiple planes to further the sense of motion.
“Why?”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Like most of us, I read of the mass murders of 20 children and two teachers in an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas with a combination of horror and indignation. Blaming myself for tacitly allowing the seemingly endless repetition of these appalling incidents, I began drawing crosses chronicling actual American mass shootings in recent years. I drew more than 200. It took hours of outrage and tears. Please note the inscription on the cross closest to the bottom righthand corner. What may be most alarming is the fact that mass shootings account for only 1.2% of gun carnage in America. Just 1.6% of gun deaths are from victims killing perpetrators in self-defense (meaning 98.4% are deaths that should not happen). How bad has it gotten? More Americans have died from gun violence (including suicide) since 1970, than the total of all wars in American history going back to the Revolutionary war. Is there a correlation between gun ownership and gun carnage? Certainly. Per capita, Americans own 3 – 400 times more guns than any other developed country. As a result, Americans kill ourselves and each other at rates 5 – 60 times higher. I’m sure firearm enthusiasts can quote somewhat different statistics, but regardless, the overall picture is insane. So what can we do about it? Speak up amongst your friends (many of mine are intelligent law-abiding gun owners who have valid opinions). Contact elected officials and demand action. Personally, I’m okay with guns for hunting, but to me assault weapons are simply not worth the carnage. The debate about handguns has to do with weighing their effectiveness in self-defense verses the deaths they cause through murder, suicide and accidents. Most importantly, ask yourself: “Why are we so accepting of gun deaths in America?” Then ask: “What am I doing to change that?”
“Tango”
24” x 36” canvas shown
No dance is as expressive or sensual as the tango. I chose bold gradients of red to outline the dancers in an attempt to capture the dynamics of their movements. The colorful background ebbs and flows with the music. The best way to appreciate this work is to view it while listening to actual tangos, which is how I painted it.
“In the Depths”
36” x 24” canvas shown
This painting came to me after spending a few precious hours with my niece Abigail, who with her partner, Duncan, maintain a couple of amazingly large and abundant aquariums. The abstract saltwater creatures reflect Native American art of the Pacific Northwest, where Abigail and Duncan are from. The palette, however, is contemporary and expresses the fragmentation of light found in the depths.
“Boardwalk Memories”
36” x 24” canvas shown
People are rarely conscious of it, but we often associate memories with colors. I always loved the Jersey shore as a child and the muted palette of the boardwalk is perhaps my most vivid recollection. This work began by layering wing-like shapes made from semi-transparent gradients with thick white borders until I was feeling the cacophony of the boardwalk and that “shore vibe”. But every boardwalk needs a roller coast and I had a great time conceiving this one, precariously perched and ready to collapse into the ocean, which is exactly what happened to the coaster in Seaside during hurricane Sandy.
“Prairie Wind”
36” x 24” canvas shown
When you title a painting “Prairie Wind,” it better express movement. If you’re looking at it, hopefully you’re feeling the breeze. Although the prairie is often depicted in shades of goldenrod, this abstract interpretation instead represents the colors and mood Karen and I experienced while driving through the prairie at twilight during the fall.
“El Tucán”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Toucans are found from Southern Mexico, through Central America, all the way to northern Argentina, so I chose the Spanish translation “El Tucán” to title this work. “When in Rome, speak español”… perhaps I screwed that up slightly, but you get the idea. Never the less, “El Tucán” is a whimsical (always wanted to use that word) expression of color and place. If you live in a northern climate, this painting asks why?
“In the Lens”
36” x 36” canvas shown
I’m quick to credit other artists, because frankly, I remain in awe of their work. Judy Chicago never ceases to fascinate, she’s the absolute master of fusing color and light. Hopefully she’ll enjoy this painting, which I titled “In the Lens” for obvious reasons. I signed it at a 45-degree angle because friends have suggested that’s the best way to hang it.
“Circle of Life”
120 cm x 80 cm canvas shown
Waking up one night with an idea in my head, I decided to challenge myself by free-handing dozens of abstract shapes representing nature’s creatures. Each creature would get just two rough strokes: one to create the outline and one for the eye, because adding an eye to any shape brings it to life.
To do so, I first observed a prior painting of mine, “Constellations,” for which I’d created animals and aquatic creatures by manipulating and adding vertices to polygons and stars. Those creatures had straight edges, these ones would not. Then I arranged my favorites in jigsaw fashion over an abstract background of swirling tropical colors.
“Arctic Tide”
24” x 36” canvas shown
What if waves had the luminescence of ice cubes? An abstract world like that could certainly be termed “Arctic.” The jubilant bodysurfer in this case is a Fiordland Penguin. This painting is for my granddaughter, Lillyana, who recently turned seven, making her far more mature than me.
“Rancher - Harney County”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Oregon, where we raised our family, might finally get its act together if the state’s politicians bothered to listen to the folks on the other side of the Cascades… like the Harney County rancher painted with respect above. They tend not to say much, but when a rancher does speak, it’s probably worth hearing. Opinions aside, this is a stark example of a painting style I began to experiment with in 2021. People and objects are composed in individual sinuous parts, so that the background and/or shadow bleeds through.
“Boquete”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Along the Caldera River, just 37 miles from the border with Costa Rica, lies Boquete, a quintessential Panamanian small town. The breezes are warm and the colors of the mountain highlands magnificent. Definitely worth a trip, but if you can’t visit, spend a few minutes with this painting. It doesn’t look a thing like the town, but perhaps captures a bit of the vibe.
“A Flower in the Bramble”
60 cm x 40 cm canvas shown
The Impressionists had a point – sometimes you must stand back from a painting, a scene, an object, or even a situation to understand it. Distance can actually clarify. Stand back from this drawing or – if you’re viewing it digitally – your screen, then focus on the white pentagon. A flower will emerge. Amidst chaos can be beauty.
“Gazing Down the Wishing Well”
36” x 24” canvas shown
How does one express unimaginable depth? Unanswered longing? “Follow the light unflinchingly”, writes J.R.R. Tolkien. “Gazing Down the Wishing Well” somewhat addresses Tolkien’s sentiment. Using metallic blues, silvers and plenty of light, the painting directs viewers deeper and deeper until they realize that the true bottom of this abstract wishing well is infinite.
“Cerro Iglesia”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Located amidst the Panamanian rain forest, Cerro Iglesia is a peak of less than 2000 feet. The appeal is not the elevation, it’s the fauna. My depiction of Cerro Iglesia is highly abstract. The goal is for the viewer to imagine the seemingly impossible abundance of such a fragile environment.
“On Plane”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Golf is a pursuit I devote extensive hours towards, yet frankly, my game still kind of sucks. It was John Feinstein who most aptly termed the sport: “a good walk spoiled”. Was he ever correct. Most elusive is my pursuit of the perfect swing – “on plane” as the pros describe it. This painting captures what my body cannot – near poetic balance “on plane” amidst the impending green hazards of the course.
“I Wonder”
36” x 24” canvas shown
It’s staggering how many headlines these days contain the phrase “experts say.” In other words: “blindly believe what we’re about to tell you.” Perhaps we’d all be better off if we simply accepted the fact that most subjects are by nature “gray areas” and instead embraced curiosity. The ambiguity of the colors, light and giant question mark are what’s important in this painting. The man pondering it all is merely a curious observer.
“Karen”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Several decades back the angelic subject of this canvas showed a momentary lack of good judgement and said “yes” when I popped the question. That makes me the luckiest bastard on earth. For several weeks, while I was secretly painting her, Karen would periodically say, “what are you staring at?” But it’s amazing how you can forget the details of things that you gaze at every day, like your spouse for example. Not to appear overly lecherous, I resorted to scrutinizing dozens of family photos. Finally shown the completed work, she said: “I’ve never owned a shirt like that,” which is typical since she’s uncomfortable in the limelight and never forgets a thing. By the way, since centuries of overuse by Italian masters made them cliché, I resisted the temptation to add a halo. In Karen’s case, one would have been deserved.
“Mariachi”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Catch a Mariachi band and the trumpeter usually steals the show. We watched this one from a balcony in Puerto Vallarta and both were struck by the dignity with which he played. The trumpet, his suit and most importantly his sombrero are each composed of individual shapes, allowing the swirling background – which represents the music – to shine through.
“Panama Garden”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Anything grows in Panama; Panamanian gardens are an explosion of color. Technically, this painting owes much of its flavor to the transparency of the bulbs. Even the vibrant yellow takes on additional hues in relation to its neighbors. The simplistic crosses were not painted. Yet they appear in multiple colors in the spaces, the product of complex shading in the background.
“Rhapsody for Marimba”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Nancy Zeltsman literally wrote the book on “Four-Mallet Marimba Playing.” She’s a phenomenal performer, author and teacher who has influenced thousands of students including the marimbist (some say that’s a word) portrayed in the painting above. Why are we discussing Nancy? I grew up with her, performed with her, and admire her to this day. I painted this student marimbist imagining him as a Zeltsman prodigy.
“Solar Dance”
24” x 24” canvas shown
You can’t be an artist without at least trying to paint the sun, but I was more interested in portraying the heat it radiates and the resultant rhythmic patterns. Hope you like it. In the words of Picasso: “Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot, others transform a yellow spot into the sun.” Amen. Wonder what he was talking about.
“Standing Poolside”
24” x 24” canvas shown
This one took several days to create, painting the pool’s tiles above and below the water line proved to be challenging. The perspective literally is “Standing Poolside”, so I included reflections of the palms, eliminating my own shadow and that of the beer can I was holding.
“Twisted Metal”
36” x 24” canvas shown
How would Escher have behaved if he could have painted digitally? Unfortunately we’ll never know, but in his honor I created “Twisted Metal.” Look closely, amidst the metallic tangle, at least ten floral shapes emerge in the spaces, like flowers growing through the rubble.
“Temptation”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Okay, so I love chocolate, doesn’t everyone? Like Oscar Wilde’s, my take on temptation has nothing to do with “salvation.” Instead, I was attempting to elicit “salivation,” like Pavlov with his bell. And I was foolish enough to paint this while hungry.
“Stewards of the Land”
32” x 14” canvas shown
Georgia O’Keefe is a hero of mine and I hoped to pay her homage with this painting. The palette and extensive use of light show O’Keefe influences. Faintly, between the ridges, finger tips emerge, representing our mutual responsibilities, since we all truly are “Stewards of the Land.”
“Tumbao”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I originally painted this conga player in purples, but revised the colors four months later while working with the palette shown above. In salsa, “Tumbao” is two quick conga beats punctuated by a third slap on the rim, punchy but flowing, like the shades of red, orange and brown in the painting.
“Skyline”
24” x 24” canvas shown
Although we’ve purchased and remodeled a dozen homes over the years, Karen and I have never been flippers. We just have a good time treating our residences as rather large canvases and coming up with new ideas. In fact, if I had taken a different career path, I might have enjoyed being an architect, as long as my projects didn’t need to be structurally sound, water tight or cost effective. So, as the doodle-filled notebooks and book covers of my scholastic days will attest, I’ll never tire of drawing buildings. Don’t try to guess where this skyline is, it exists only in my mind, and trust me you don’t want to go there.
“Blue”
36” x 24” canvas shown
When conventional artists run short on oils and cash, they often paint monochromatically. Digital artists have no such excuse. In this case, I truly wanted to explore the possibilities of blue. Using just multiple blue hues and light, I drew a series of bell-like shapes until they began to resemble a pipe organ on steroids. Now when I look at “Blue” I imagine an organist in a massive cathedral playing B.B. King. Others may have a saner reaction.
“Canadian Garden”
36” x 24” canvas shown
This work was painted in tribute to my friend Bob Doell of Victoria, Canada, who after his recent cancer diagnosis, deserves some cheering up. The premise is simple. What do you get when you arrange brightly painted hockey pucks in a circular pattern? Flowers. It’s a painting that could only be called “Canadian Garden.”
“Structural”
24” x 36” canvas shown
We raised our family in Oregon where timber is king, or at least it used to be. My in-laws were loggers, my brother-in-law still hauls timber for a living. Recently, I became interested in depicting wood fibers in complex three-dimensional shapes. Sustainably harvested. Light yet solid. This painting, “Structural,” is an ode to the endless possibilities of a renewable resource.
“Bling”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Society seems to have become obsessed with status. Garish displays of wealth are everywhere. While creating the above complex background in shimmering diamond colors, I decided to overlay it with the word “Bling”. Not once, because with bling, you apparently need to display it repeatedly. Above the words, I painted a diamond necklace to top all diamond necklaces. With so many diamonds, it would be painful to wear. Because to me, bling is getting painful to look at. Sorry to be so cynical.
“Nightfall on the Palouse”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I first experienced the spectacle of “Nightfall on the Palouse” looking for a discreet place to sleep in my car while driving cross country to college. Suddenly I understood what we had sung about during grade school after reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. “Amber waves of grain”, make quite a sight. Hopefully this painting is a fraction as impactful.
“Santana”
36” x 24” canvas shown
The only way to paint Carlos Santana is by listening to his music at an obnoxious volume. I’d recommend favorite cuts, but my list is too extensive. As usual with my paintings, the background is more important than the foreground. That’s where the music lies. The PRS Santana Retro he’s shown playing is an axe I’d love for myself. Doubt it would sound so sweet in my hands.
“Posturizing”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Basketball is sacred to me and my children. I was still playing in city leagues well into my 50’s, when my first experience with “white man’s disease” (less than stellar jumping) turned out to be multiple myeloma, a blood-borne form of cancer that had attacked my skeletal system. Chemo, radiation and a stem cell transplant has thus far kept the disease at bay (my amazing oncologist checks my bloodwork every 3 or 4 months), but for multiple myeloma patients there is no cure or remission. I’ve now hung on for 10 years and can honestly say that they’ve been the best years of my life. Remember the song “Live Life Like You Were Dying”? He’s absolutely right: cancer can be a blessing. In my case, the hardest thing for me to adjust to has been the collateral damage of heavy treatment (I’ve lost the use of my legs below my knees and my feet), which means my basketball is now played strictly at ground level. The player in this painting is doing what I can I do no longer (and no doubt better than I ever did). The abstract court is purposely painted in a combination of arena-like bright colors and grays, which represent asphalt, where in my case the game was first learned and endlessly practiced.
“Flight”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Typically, the backgrounds I paint are curvilinear, so one morning (my 64th birthday to be precise… amazing I got this far) I decided to do something different. After creating a series of polygons and stars, I began moving the vertices, in many cases folding them like origami. Then, I’d alter the perspective to give them life. Hours later, I had completed a palette of more than fifty unique and colorful shapes. It looked like a toy store. To create the background for “Flight,” I used one of those shapes to form a rolling, quilt-like pattern, continually altering the angles and perspective to make it feel like a view of the terrain below. Then I selected three additional abstract shapes (the yellow butterfly, the teal ray-like plane, and the purple spacecraft) and allowed them to soar above. Better than watching Top Gun!
“Woven Basket”
23” x 25” canvas shown
Always up for a challenge, I decided to try to paint a handmade basket one day. The most difficult part was creating the braided pattern, but once it was established the actual weaving was simply a lesson in geometry. The wooden display stand I painted separately, then figured a way to show it both behind and in front of the basket. No one will ever confuse my work with photo-realistic geniuses like Chuck Close, but if you stand back far enough (several miles will suffice), this basket almost looks like the real thing.
“Nation of Light”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I’m not a science fiction nut, but chances are we’re not alone. While creating what I first titled as a “Cross of Light,” it struck me that it would make for an interesting futuristic flag, which led to the background. If nothing else, creating “Nation of Light” was a challenging spatial exercise.
“In Bloom”
24” x 36” canvas shown
What is the optimal intersection of realism and abstraction? There is of course, no right answer. But paint too realistically and it can be reasonably argued: “why didn’t he just shoot a photo?” Although with my limitations, no one will ever say that about my art. In this case, I started with a metallic flower, added pop-art leaves, then the purposely distorted clay pot. Finally, I dropped in an unobtrusive matching background, which also served as illumination.
“Fútbol Panama”
36” x 36” canvas shown
Try driving through Panama City without seeing a pickup soccer game. It’s not going to happen. Duly impressed, I started painting colorful futuristic soccer balls, until settling on this one, which seemed to deserve a poster. Of course, calling the beautiful game “soccer” anywhere outside the USA is arrogant. Worldwide, fútbol rules.
“In Our Garden”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Funerals excluded, flowers exist to make us smile. At least that’s my opinion. Without a doubt, the flowers shown above fall under the category of pop art. The colors are overly vibrant, the leaves excessively healthy. They’ll last forever. Sure beats reality.
“Mask to Mask”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I painted this underwater creature while composing a prior work and felt she deserved a solo showing. I just loved her personality. Technically, the gradient colors all fade to white, which is why she emits so much light. I used a slight drop shadow to make her pop from the water. She’s a creature I’d love to meet while snorkeling, so I called the painting “Mask to Mask.”
“Totems”
36” x 24” canvas shown
While layering some fairly complex shapes, I started to recognize the image of totems, which I thought would make a worthy theme. The painting’s four totems stand proudly in the background, but their aura radiates forward. I purposely gave them neither a beginning or end, because totems represent spirit creatures without boundaries. The transparent colors are symbiotic, like the forest.
“Flamenco”
36” x 24” canvas shown
A few years back, Karen and I explored Andalusia, often referred to as the birthplace of flamenco. As flamboyant as the genre is, most flamenco guitarists appear dignified as they play, letting the music be the show. The painting’s background is radiant, pulsating and spontaneous, all characteristics of flamenco.
“A Longhorn Visits Dallas”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I went through a phase attempting to draw simplistic, 2-dimensional animals with personalities. The kind of drawings you’d find in an ancient cave inhabited by comics. This longhorn was one of my favorites. While drawing him, it dawned on me that the least Texas-like thing in the Lone Star State is Dallas. At least the parts I’d visited, which were dominated by heartless skyscrapers, dizzying to look up at. So that’s how I painted the building, although the longhorn seems right at home, oblivious to the dichotomy.
“Tarde en El Chorrillio”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Considered somewhat dangerous, the Panama City barrio of El Chorrillio is a constant whirl of humanity. Passing through in an Uber one afternoon (“Tarde” is a Spanish word for afternoon), we were transfixed. The next morning, I attempted to depict the energy of El Chorrillio in this painting using a vivid Panamanian palette. A few splashes of red beneath the spinning yellows, blues, purples and teals represents the danger.
“The Afterlife”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I haven’t led the most pious of lives, so if there truly is a judgement day, I’ll pack strictly for warm weather. But what if upon arrival at the gates of hell, music was playing… what might you say to the other sinners at the bar? While creating this work, I particularly enjoyed painting the rhythmic flames.
“The Seeds of Industry”
36” x 24” canvas shown
This is a rather dark commentary on unfettered industry. The background is of ominous metallic drums, which hopefully will never leak. The complex wood fiber structures above them are diffused into menacing hues. The blooming flower is made of sharp metals. Even the award-like ribbon behind the flower looks abrasive. Typically, I’m not so cynical… maybe I was having a rough day.
“Nine”
36” x 24” canvas shown
In nature, nine petals are a rare occurrence. But artists need no such constraints. Each of the multi-dimensional layers in the above painting have, you guessed it, nine appendages. The beauty evolves from the transparency of each color, resulting in compound hues that have a watercolor quality to them.
“Puerco”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Pigs tend to get a bad rap. Said to be smarter than dogs, pigs are social animals with plenty of personality. I painted “Puerco” while in Mexico, so the name is in Spanish. Mexico always seems to be alive with vivid color, which is expressed in the painting’s background. Frankly, I fell in love with this pig, it was days before I ordered carnitas again.
“Silver Study”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Some who have viewed this painting call it floral, some see blades of a knife. Others comment on its metallic quality, use of light and unconventional focal point. There’s no literal interpretation. I was simply attempting to depict movement and depth monochromatically.
“Evening Egret”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Karen and I lived for 3+ years in Florida, thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and were always fascinated with the dichotomy of rapid growth existing in harmony with nature. Endless houses, phenomenal sunsets and a nonstop parade of wildlife. The gators, I never got quite comfortable with, but the birds were amazing. The painting “Evening Egret” is about what you might miss if you closed the blinds to what’s around you.
“Puerto Vallarta Poema de Amor”
36” x 24” canvas shown
A poema de amor is a poem of love, which is how I feel about Puerto Vallarta. Beneath the transparent words are abstract representations of the region’s wildlife, but it’s the local colors that shine through. This is not a travel poster, it’s an ode to a place like no other.
“Peixe”
36” x 24” canvas shown
The Algarve region of Portugal is prime territory for sports fishing. “Peixe” (Portuguese for fish) is a highly abstract representation of an elusive deep-water fish. Each color, including the water, is a gradient, which accounts for the unique palette.
“Le Boulanger”
24” x 36” canvas shown
France has much to offer the world, but in my book le boulangers (French bakers) are the country’s most important export. French bread is second to none. The earnest baker portrayed in “Le Boulanger” is painted simplistically in the metallic colors of his oven and subtly illuminated in appreciation of his craft.
“Fly on the Fun House Wall”
24” x 36” canvas shown
While sketching one day, I started with a hexagon and created this geometric fly. The relationship of the angles made it work. The “bug eyes” that give the fly its personality are the only element at all rounded. The bizarrely lit patterned background – which is congruent, yet somehow off kilter – reminded me of a traveling carnival or second-rate amusement park. Hence the name: “Fly on the Fun House Wall.”
“The Chimes of Freedom”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Using only blue and purple gradients, I began painting a series of layered bell-like shapes at odd angles. They also could be interpreted as the pipes of an organ. By adding varied percentages of transparency, the lower levels began shining through in almost sun-like patterns. The overall vibe seemed triumphant, almost like an Easter morning recessional in a massive church with plenty of reverb. Say hallelujah.
“Open the Nursery Blinds”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Definitely a fun one to paint, “Open the Nursery Blinds” began with a series of semi-illuminated cubes in kid’s colors. When I had strung a few together, they started to look like beaded blinds appropriate for an imaginary nursery. The challenge was depicting how blinds would bunch up when they were raised to the point that light could shine through the window. I then added the window frame, valance and cord pulls till the painting reached the intersection of imagination and reality that I was intending.
“Jarabe Tapatío”
24” x 36” canvas shown
The Jarabe Tapatío originated as a courtship dance in Guadalajara. Today it is considered the national dance of Mexico. It’s colorful and jubilant and mariachi bands typically use it as a finale. If you’re wearing the right skirt, like the dancer in the above painting, you’ll flow like the music.
“Ribbons of Thought”
36” x 24” canvas shown
There are times – truthfully, quite often – that my mind races far faster than it ought to. And if you pile up all those disjointed ribbons of thought, they start to look like something fit to be burned, a virtual campfire of ideas. But in this case, I loved the colors and how they jumped off the canvas… so I never did light that match.
“Layout”
36” x 24” canvas shown
The sport of Ultimate was developed in New Jersey in 1968. By the mid-seventies, I was competing on club teams and later played it collegiately. It’s now enjoyed by millions. Catch a televised game and you’ll see diving players suspended in air attempting to grasp the hovering Frisbee, a thrilling athletic move that competitors call “laying out.” This abstract painting is meant to capture the power and grace of a “layout.”
“In Toucans We Trust”
36” x 24” canvas shown
This painting began as I was spatially intersecting wings of plum, lilac and blue. But the wings needed a focal point, something as playful as their colors. I then hijacked one of my favorite characters from a painting I’d completed the previous year, a bright yellow toucan. It was starting to look like a flag from a satirical banana republic, so I ran with it. After adding the target and rich hibiscus background, “In Toucans We Trust” was born. I pledge allegiance.
“Nappanee Twilight”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Visiting Amish friends during a 2022 trip through Indiana, Karen and I drove on a county road through fields near Nappanee. A literal artist might have portrayed the scene with corn, soybeans or even a horse, but I was more interested in the shadows, shifting copper color and refracted evening light.
“Formation Over Puerto Vallarta”
36” x 24” canvas shown
This was the first painting I created using overlying curvilinear shapes to form the background, a style I’ve become quite fond of and have continued to develop. Sitting on our balcony while visiting Puerto Vallarta, Pelicans in formation were a common sight. It’s a simple idea. Pelicans + warm breezes + the tropical sky = heaven.
“Brainstorming”
30” x 30” canvas shown
An essential skill in advertising, brainstorming techniques are something I’ve studied closely and have taught to college classes and business groups. When practiced with discipline, brainstorming eventually produces a rapid series of creative ideas, an explosion of thought that has been likened to the finale of a fireworks show. More juvenile minds might compare it to sex, but I’m sure that’s not what you were thinking. In this abstract representation of brainstorming, the ultimate solution emerges in gold.
“In the Trees”
24” x 36” canvas shown
Traditional Mayan art subjects are often two dimensional, yet they explode off the surface in intricate patterns. In this modern rendition, I’ve eliminated all embellishment and brought the birds and iguana to life simply through gradients. The background is an abstract representation of the dense rain forest.
“Quilt of Light”
36” x 24” canvas shown
This painting began with a single square made up of two purple and two steel blue gradients that produced a diamond of light when linked. Duplicated into rows, the squares took on a quiltlike pattern. I then overlayed a second pattern made of elongated hexagons of blue and teal, each fading to white. This created additional points of light. But quilts are best viewed covering a bed, so I tilted the perspective of the entire painting.
“Study in Blue”
24” x 36” canvas shown
I’ve been accused of having too much blue in my wardrobe. In its many hues, the color always looks right to me. While this painting certainly doesn’t appear monochromatic, it’s primarily composed of blues, with a touch of violet and plenty of white illumination. It’s an exercise in perspective created in multiple layers, which form additional patterns as they interact.
“Covet”
24” x 36” canvas shown
In my humble opinion, no one handles reds as deftly as the American abstract painter Jeff Bensley, which is why a large Bensley canvas is prominently displayed in Karen and my home. After several years of pondering that painting, in November of 2021 I decided to give reds a try myself. Using a deep red gradient and shadow, my goal was to create multiple layers of complex flowing shapes. “Covet” certainly doesn’t measure up to a Bensley, but I sure enjoyed painting it.
“Thoughts in the Tropical Wind”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Mental health professionals describe BEING PRESENT as “being fully conscious of the moment and free from the noise of internal dialogue”. A worthy goal, but something I’m ill-equipped to accomplish – things just keep popping into my head, even when I’m supposed to be relaxing on a pristine beach. “Thoughts in the Tropical Wind” represents a swirl of ideas during what was supposed to be a time for relaxation. If we were being graded on BEING PRESENT in the moment, I flunked.
“The Cannons”
24” x 36” canvas shown
“The Cannons” started with a closeup photo I took of orchids in the incredible Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota. This is an example of digital painting using a realistic photo as a guide, a contemporary technique similar to the art grids that have been used for centuries. Everything is painted through brushstrokes (in this case with a mouse) and the photo is eventually eliminated, but the method allows colors to be quickly sampled and perspective is much easily attained. In 2021 I abandoned this technique, deciding instead to create abstract digital works from scratch. Nevertheless, “The Cannons” and the next four works shown represent a valid contemporary painting methodology now practiced by thousands of digital artists.
“Lahinch”
36” x 24” canvas shown
I painted “Lahinch” for a friend, Richard “Olie” Olsson, an accomplished man of diverse interests, who later in life suffered from dementia. What Olie loved most was his wonderful wife, Ro, and the great links golf courses of Scotland and Ireland they had visited. Lahinch in County Clare was his favorite. Although dementia had cruelly robbed Olie of most of his speech and clarity, his eyes lit up when he saw this painting on my studio wall. Suddenly he was able to share stories of playing the course and seeing the ruins on its grounds. When I told him the painting was for him, a tear appeared. When they got home, Ro hung the painting in their room and he gazed at it each morning until he passed away.
“Sarasota Spring”
24” x 24” canvas shown
Because of their bold tropical foliage, we planted crotons liberally around both of the homes we built in Florida. The crotons in this painting we saw in Sarasota. Darkness and spring are rarely depicted side by side. In this case, low voltage pathway lights illuminated the crotons in a way I wanted to remember.
“Diving for Pesos”
36” x 24” canvas shown
For many decades “Clavadistas” – the cliff divers of Mazatlán – have thrilled visitors with their death-defying 50-foot plunges. To do so they must first clear ten feet of jagged rocks while aiming for a small channel of water, timing it so that an incoming wave supplies enough water for a safe landing. Not for the faint of heart. A tight-knit brotherhood of about a dozen Clavadistas, including one now approaching 60, literally dive for the pesos, dollars and euros of appreciative onlookers knowing that a single mistake could be fatal. If that doesn’t deserve a painting, nothing does.
“Irish Eve”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Impromptu concerts by local musicians are one of the great attractions of Irish pubs. The other is Guinness, of which the remaining half pint is my favorite element of this painting. The musicians’ focus is not an audience, but instead each other. I painted “Irish Eve” listening to Irish reels and jigs. Thanks Spotify. Ten bucks a month for access to virtually anything ever recorded seems like a gift from heaven.
“Sarasota Garden”
36” x 24” canvas shown
Painted from a bird’s eye view, “Sarasota Garden” depicts a bed of flowers at the botanical gardens. The gardener was quite an artist. After completing this work in 2018, Karen and I began to notice vertical wall gardens in our travels. It’s a similar effect we’ve yet to try at home. We hope to someday, but in the meantime, this painting doesn’t require daily watering.