On some backroad looking to get lost, I find this, a washday for someone. Not knowing anything about them other than what is hanging on a clothesline, two small children, a woman, and a man. The closest neighbor is not close at all, I hear a dog barking when the sound drifts on by with the lightest of breeze.
After years of traveling, crisscrossing countless cities, small towns, back allies, snow storms and hot deserts I finely caught-up with you; Your looking great, we have so much to catch up on, and with no place to go, we have all the time in the world.
I have painted this once before as a 6x6inch oil about 8 years ago. I rediscovered the photo and decided to do it again, what I found this time around is I got more involved in the color, I made the dark deeper in tone, its not black, oh I know how it looks it but, none to be found. I started off with the light yellow sky and worked my way forward painting the rest all dark, then when dry the taillights began to emerge into TRAFFIC JAM.
It was amazing this was still open, I got some gas, bought a snickers and kept going. looking up in my rearview mirror I watched the station disappear like time itself; Turning back to face the road, I wondered what lies ahead and with that smiling to myself, I took another bite of my snickers and kept going.
It's so interesting to study ones works. I painted this last year, it's been hanging out on the wall in my studio along with all the other works, so it has plenty of company; I usually gance over all that I have painted, gering up my mind for the next masterpiece hahaha. So the other day I zeroed in on this one "EASTSIDE" and thought this could use a little tweak here and there and, to my surprise I was correct in my decision. First off I softened the street lights and their reflection on the ground, added the crossing sign in the foreground, pulling the eye into the picture, put some warmth in the doorway of the little diner, the sign is in the front out of our view, strong some more lights in the back for the outside dining, I'm now happy; Oh by the way, good fried chicken every Wed night.
The sounds of laughter and music field the air; then came the smells of popcorn, hotdogs, and bbq. I have visited this memory many times over the years, doing this painting had me return to my youth and a time gone by. Hope you have good memories as well.
It was a joy to paint this and wanting to do justice to the original photo taken by Mark Guttridge owner of Ollin Farms www.ollinfarms.com In painting this I did not want to copy the photo but capture the feel, the essence of, and in doing so, I got to re-visit dear friends and Marks farm. Thanks, Mark for caring about this planet.
Prints might become available in the future, but for now, please enjoy
On a back dirt road, this young longhorn stopped and stared as I did as well. I was in my van, window down and we just looked at one another. After a time he moved on, joining the rest of his group. and I did the same.
Road to the Flat-Irons in Colorado while on a visit to my good friends was magical. I was struck by how flat and broad the landscape was. The feeling of space was amazing to my eyes. I wanted to say by-by to all.
The drive back to Los Angeles was slow. What began as a soft rain was the beginning of a downpour. With no place to stop, I just kept driving as the lightning made contact and the distant sound of thunder speeding me along.
It was early morning, the sun had not made its way over the tops of the hills, the ocean; calm I was made my way to the pelican diner on Coast highway, I could taste the pancakes and smell the bacon. Soon it was going to be showtime at the festival of arts and the beginning of summer for us crazy's.
It was just one of those evening. The theater just let out, I turned my caller up on my coat, shoved my hands into my pockets and began to walk in the misty night air. Everything was going fine, all was as planned, another hour and I was a free man. I smiled to myself when out or the shadows she stepped, gun in hand.
As I moved deeper into the valley the vistas that opened were breathtaking. There were countless things to photograph no matter where I turned, I was dizzy with Ideas of things to paint. An hour had passed before I realized I had not taken even one photo, then finally, this came into view; I had my next paintings in my sights.
Sometimes everything just works out. Art is such a crazy thing to have to do. I say have to, for if I'm not paintings, searching, and needing to paint I would go nuts. So for me, it's a lifeline to who I am. It is a great escape, it is my moment to get lost and explore the wonders a never-ending moment. I'm at home
For those that know Laguna Beach, I don't have to say where this is. It is such a recognizable iconic spot. I had an opportunity to be at a house that was at this location giving me this view. Three photos later and back at my studio I put this to oils immortalizing it.
Newport Beach, summer, big waves, surfers, suntan oil, put that all together and you have the "WEDGE." I go down to watch the crazy, skillful surfers risk their lives to master the crashing thundering waves that brake this part of the coast. Now you ask, "Do you surf" I don't even know how to swim so my answer is a resounding NO!. I just love watching and painting the beauty of it all.
Racing ahead of what looked like a change in the weather, I turned my car around and back down the hill I went. It was hours later I heard a storm moved in with road closers just where I was. I will try another day, the mountain isn't going anywhere soon.
In crossing the heartlands sometimes up close most of the time far away; one can see empty barns, some standing proudly most looking tired, all have stories if when one stops to listen. I stood for a time and stared at this one, took a few photos and now in painting it I feel I've given it life again.
Many years ago I would travel back and forth through the desert between California and Lake Havasu on a road less traveled, to say the least. I loved taking it, one could drive for hours before you saw another car. This painting is an homage to a wonderful memory.
My son sent me this. Its morning time in at the Schwartz's, coffee is brewing, kids are up, its school time, Duk the family pet is eating and my son is getting ready for work. Why its morning time in Minnesota.
This last winter when with my son we went back to a magical place with quiet. The only sound was the water moving over and around the stones in this icy cold stream. It was picture perfect, I hope I did it justice to paint such perfection.
A quiet place just 30 minutes away from where my son lives. A short walk off the road and one is lost in the beauty. It took some time for me to finally step back to reality and take a photo. The end result and a year later I finally finished my walk.
The need to get out 0of town and disappear at times really becomes overwhelming.
Well, not having a camper and all of the paraphernalia I became friends with campers. Told them I can cook some really great meals and this started a long relationship with me as the cook, and sometimes a driver. So this is in tribute to those days. my life took me in another direction and I'm sure they are still wondering the back trails of adventure.
It was just one of those times but then again, it's always that time, you know what I'm talking about; traffic, it has nothing to do with the time of day, there is traffic. One steps out of the hotel hit's the streets and its rush hour. It is a way of life when you want to take a bite out of the Big Apple.
An Update on this painting... I just felt it wasn't finished, but now I can say it is.
In the quiet of the moment, I drifted down these waters seeing the sky above, the coolness of the waters, moving past and around stones, gently twilling in the stream without a care in the world. I was for a moment, moving slowly