chasing color

Dance

2011-12-24T06:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I traveled Hot Springs to work in the gallery.Hot Springs is a wonderful small town with streets lined with trees. While driving, two trees captured myattention. They wereintertwined. I was rushed fortime, so I could not stop to capture a quick photograph. So I attempted to file the image intomy memory, which is always dangerous. Later at the gallery, I quickly sketched the two trees relying on my memoryforged from a passing glimpse.

I remember the entwined trees leaned to the right as ifdancers bending to a song. The limbs of the trees made very sharp andunexpected turns; apparently the two dancers had a troubled past since broken and damaged limbs are cause of sudden turns. Regardless ofthe past, they still danced. Andnow, the trees were merged and one could not exist without the other.

Everyone deserves a chance to dance, to sway to the music,regardless.

Love

2011-12-15T11:42:00.000-08:00

Love is patient, love is kind andis not jealous

love does not brag and is notarrogant

does not act unbecomingly

it does not seek its own, is notprovoked

does not take into account a wrong suffered

does not rejoice in unrighteousness

but rejoices with the truth

bears all things

believes all things

hopes all things

endures all things

Love never fails

But now faith, hope, love, abidethese three

but the greatest of these is love.

Purple Heart

2011-11-27T14:46:00.001-08:00

A few months ago our family received the dreadful news thatour son was involved in an attack in Afghanistan. A roadside bomb struck hisvehicle. Information on the attackcrawled from Middle East adding to the stress to the nightmarish event. Whilewaiting for news, the family retold funny tales of my son’s……adventures. Here is one of those tales.

A few year’s ago, my son acquired a job at my place ofwork. He had a handicap. He waswork challenged. He started and quit many jobs. I hoped this job would bedifferent considering my reputation was bonded to his work ethic. What could go wrong?

At home I received a call from work from my boss,Gerald. In a sorrowful voice hesaid, “I am so sorry for your lossof your mother. Where do we need to send the flowers?”

Surprised I answered, “My mom! I did not know my mother died! I need to make phonecalls!”

In a panic I made my first phone call, “Hello mom. I am gladto hear your voice! You are OK! You are not dead! I received acall from work saying my mom had passed. I have to make another call…….see youlater!”

The second call was to my mother-in-law, “Hello, you arethere! I received a call from work saying you might be dead! I have to make another call. Goodbye fornow!”

I returned the call to work, “My mothers are OK! They areliving! What? My son stated hisgrandmother died and he needed time from work?”

At that moment the puzzle came together. My son needed timefrom work. A grandparent was the prefect relative for his scheme. They are nottoo close but close enough for fake bereavement. Some people loss dozens ofgrandparents.

Highly frustrated, I called my son, “Where in the heck areyou….the lake…THE LAKE! You are supposed to at work or a funeral. NOT THE LAKE!”

It is funny how life flows. Sometimes children are the cause of endless stress. Yet occasionally, they do things whichare amazing.

Naps and Wine

2011-11-11T07:29:00.001-08:00

I adore the trajectory of the light of fall. It transforms ourperceptions of everything. A dramatic change occurs in the sky especially inthe morning. Clouds lose theiredges gaining a diffused softness. Yet the most dramatic change is the casting of long shadows and the extensionof the reach of light. In the falland through windows, the sun reaches deep into our homes and begs us to take anafternoon nap.

Frame of mind

2011-11-07T15:28:00.000-08:00

This sketch was completed while sitting near a window of my hotel room. Occasionally, I enjoy experiencing the atmosphere of a late night especially in a city.

When I was a boy in rural Arkansas, our family was deeply poor. Poverty has the power of isolation. It removes children from classmates. So the open fields, woods, and creeks were my close friends that I shared these friends with my brother. During our adventures and explorations, occasionally, a visitor would appear: an airplane streaming a trail of white vapor against the sky. I found the visitor amazing.

I often pondered the lives of the people traveling in the planes and I always weaved uplifting tales. The passengers were always traveling to a lost love or a warm reunion. They were never running form anything.

Today when I am in the hotel room viewing a cityscape, I ponder the lives of people traveling in vehicles, walking streets, or sleeping soundly in beds. I prefer to think that they are traveling to a happy greeting or they are peacefully sleeping near their beloved.

Though the truth is hasher than my idealism, I still prefer my silly dreams.

Prevail

2011-10-30T07:47:00.000-07:00

New Friend

2011-10-28T21:37:00.000-07:00

This is my new friend. You wouldn't know but my friend is faded blue. It loves to hang out..............

That was a very very cheap joke. The joke store does not take debit cards and I don't carry a lot of money.

Time

2011-10-28T19:44:00.000-07:00

I yanked (A nice way to say stole) this leaf from a friend who is a photographer, Suzanne. I thought the leaf was amazing.

Your thoughts? I Don't Want to Hear Them

2011-10-27T12:24:00.000-07:00

I, Larry, without emotional or physical duress freely attestthat I am a messy person. I have the messy gene. This gene is blatantly apparent when I do anything creative with ink or oil. Likeillegal aliens longing for freedom, paint migrates from my brushes and canvasto my hands. From my hands, paint is transferred to my forehead. Apparently Ican’t think without touching my head, and ears. Yet the biggest victim of migrating paint is myclothing. Many of my favoriteshirts have inkblots or paint smears and I look like a walking psychologicaltest. Crazy people walk past meand say, “Butterfly!”

So, I have decided on a protective layer of cloth. First, Ipondered an apron but the word "apron" has too many womanly connotations. I am a manly man….cough I even tried replacing the word“apron” with the word “smock” but smock sounds silly. I landed on the idea of using a long sleeved largeshirt. Well, technically the shirtis an extra-extra large. (Kindlykeep your thoughts to yourself). The shirt has to be VASTLY oversized to offer a large area ofprotection and to fit loosely over my clothing. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

In other news, I am going on a diet and exercise regiment thevery moment I post this blog.

Jabbering

2011-10-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

Recently, I went on a walk in the late afternoon. I enjoyed a lingering stroll along adirt road.

I enjoyed the shadows that were thrown from a thin stand oftrees.

But most of all, I enjoyed the endless jabbering ofquestions from my company.

Fall

2011-10-18T07:12:00.000-07:00

Recently I took a walk through the fields of northernArkansas and I was disappointed in the fall colors. The state has had a very dry fall, which depresses thecolors. In dry weather leaves turnfrom green to brown bypassing yellow, orange, and red. Yet, I have hope. Today the land isreceiving a slow steady rain and thedamp air is crisp making a prefect fall day.

On cold wet fall days, we become introverts huddled withinprotective layers of clothing and walls; the dampness beckons for a reflectiveoutlook. We ponder the roads,which were taken or ignored. Yetromantics can embrace reflection too strongly. Romantics could enjoy a cold rain simply for the simplistic pleasure of knowing the rainprovides a push for the changing leaves of fall.

Maybe prefect fall days are just prefect fall days.

20 minutes

2011-10-14T14:54:00.000-07:00

Very fall I pluck a changing leaf and sketch it. The sketch generally takes about onecup of coffee or five 80’s songs or three customers at a coffee shop.

Different shows

2011-10-13T07:06:00.000-07:00

Many people are complacent in spirit and they are meantfor safe harbors. In a line, theyare tethered to the docks as they softly rise and fall with the gentlewaves. They don’t own a singlereckless belief.

Yet some souls are meant for the open seas. Commanding theirhorizon, they were born to cast their sails to a strong wind. They have the ability to form uncommonbeliefs and uncommon spirituality.

Own a reckless belief…..a belief that is fully yours.

I kill the will to live

2011-10-07T06:46:00.000-07:00

I am a mass murderer and my weapons of mass destruction aregarden trowels, fertilizer, water and a sense that plants are endlessly thirsty.The plants, that I ignore, thrive and the plants, that I painstakingly nourish,die a slow agonizing death.

A few years ago, I planted a tree in the backyard. The treewas from my grandfather’s land. While in its infancy, I mowed the tree with a lawnmower. Also my belovedchocolate lab, Nellie, confused to tree with a chew-toy and she stripped thetiny tree of limbs and foliage. Today, the tree is biggest and healthiest plant in my yard.

In the front yard, I planted two trees. I watered the treesduring the hot months of summer. Imulched the trees. The trees have been safe from random dog and lawnmowerattacks. Yet if the trees werepatients in a hospital, they would be in critical care. They are barely clinging to life.

Apparently my love crushes the will to live. I likely need to take a weedeater tothe front two sickly trees. It is their only hope.

stay foolish

2011-10-06T07:19:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my wife informed me that Steve Jobs died. Sheknew that I admired Steve. He was a visionary and a fighter.

On his battle with cancer Steve said, “My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which isdoctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everythingyou thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. Itmeans to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy aspossible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes."

As Steve waged a war with cancer he never lost a trait, which I admire the most: fiery romanticism. In a speech Stevesaid, “No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't wantto die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one hasever escaped it. And that is as it should be…Your time is limited, so don'twaste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which isliving with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise ofothers' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have thecourage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what youtruly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Society is combativewith people who dare to walk differently, speak differently, and thinkdifferently. Yet, we should have the courage to stray from the well-worn path.There is more danger in endlessly cloning the ideas than forming new ideas,regardless of the claims of foolishness. So let’s be foolish. Let’s experiment. Let’s shoulder the risk offailure taking paths that others ignore.

On fools and thefoolhardy Steve said, “Stewart and his team put out several issues of TheWhole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out afinal issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover oftheir final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kindyou might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath itwere the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewellmessage as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wishedthat for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.”

I like to end with this:think different.

Bent, Defense of Dreamers

2011-09-30T07:05:00.000-07:00

I have been pondering a painting. I see it clearly in my mind. I see a thin stand of young trees. Young trees, like children, playfully move in randomdirection for no logical reason other than for joy. Behind the stand of tree, theautumn sun is low casting light, which streams through foliage. The sun is blinding; it seems to devour asection of the trees. The far background I see a vast field and I see a straightpeaceful horizon.

Robert Frost wrote a poem that perfectly describes myboyhood and my current outlook. The Poem is “Birches.” Inthe poem Frost ponders the bent growth of birch trees within a stand. Frost knows the likely brutal cause ofthe bending: ice storms however he prefers his idealistic outlook. He prefers the cause to be a boy, wholived too far from town for baseball. Though in the poem Frost defends idealistic romanticismhe also uses the poem to recount his boyhood. As a boy Frost was a bender oftrees. And so was I.

So, I am going to paint a stand of trees. The trees will beunique, special. They will be bent and turned standing against a straighthorizon on a fall day. And in thevastness of the field, I will place a person. Viewers of the painting can create any story for the person. Mystory is that the person lives too far from the lights of town for baseball andhe or she is enjoying the freedom and dreams that can only be found in a field.

“One could do worse than be a swinger of birches…..”

Frost

love is

2011-09-28T07:09:00.000-07:00

Love is many things. One component of love is the ability ofwives to live within a marriage without falling to the desire to poison theirhusbands. My wife, who is a goodwoman, must endure my inability to throw away favorite shirts.

I enjoy t-shirts with inspiring or unique messages and myshirts often gather compliments. Sonaturally, I am emotionally attached to my shirts. Furthermore from my perspective, holesand tattered collars add value. Why would I discard shirts that are only gaining value? Shirts are a cloth form of a 401k.

My wife is kind person however her wife’s tolerance haslimits. Eventually my shirts decay to a point that tests the foundation of mywife’s sanity and her eyes acquire a t-shirt murdering glint. When I sense her darknature, I know that I am in danger. However more importantly, I know mytattered shirt is in danger.

Often, my wife decides the best course of action is covert.The offending shirt gets “lost” in the cycle of laundry. When questioned, sheinnocently responds, “No Honey, I have not seen your red “bazinga” shirt.” Ourbackyard must be littered with shallow graves for each missing shirt.

Occasionally she takes a direct approach. My wife’s attack is often surprisingand sudden leaving my shirt defenseless. After a quick scuffle, I am left wondering why shirts are soeasily ripped.

Currently, my old green “life is good” shirt is indanger. I need to devise a planthat will steal a few more months of life.

Linger

2011-09-26T15:19:00.000-07:00

People enjoy reading my sketchbooks. My sister-in-law, Tasha, is always a threat to steal my book and start reading. Often, I only insert sketches in my book but occasionally I write. Below are the words from this page of my sketchbook.

"I adore the word linger. LIngers meant to remain or stay in a place than is usual or expected, as if from a reluctance to leave...to be slow in parting or leaving something.

Though simplistic the word is seldom used in common conversation. Yet the word bleeds romanticism.

To linger: to be in love with a person though a parting is on the horizon.

To linger: to consider the wonder of the early edge of morning while the sun is hidden.

To linger: to be simply happy or at peace knowing the passing of time will recalculate circumstance.

To linger: to battle, for a moment, fate.

Hope

2011-09-26T14:45:00.000-07:00

Our children are having children and suddenly our home is overflowing with the noises and lovely chaos that only small infants can create. The above is a 15 minute sketch of my first grandchild, a boy.

I hope.

I hope you have your great-great-grandfather's heart. He symbolizes kindness.

I hope you have your great-grandfather's hands. He is a builder, a creator.

I hope you have your grandfather's eyes. He looks to the fields, sky and dreams.

I hope you have your father's faith. He thinks he is invincible.

And as time passes, you will fall deeply in love and you will have a child. Give to him or her only the best of us.

The Table

2011-09-10T12:47:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I took a few days from writing. I want to at least write every otherday. I get a lot of enjoyment from hammering the keys.

Today, I went to my pondering place, the local coffee shop,and I discovered a shocking surprise. A young couple was sitting at mytable. Well, the table is notofficially mine. Yet, I proclaimsquatter’s rights.

The table is prefect. It is near a window. During pleasant weather, the window is often open allowingthe wind and outside noises to fill the shop. The table is near the bar but not too close. The table is near a main area ofcongestion offering a good line of sight for people watching. The most important advantage of thetable is its lack of popularity. It is almost always unoccupied except fortoday.

So, what is the proper course of action? Should I unnaturally stare at thecouple until they call the police or leave? I could telepathically send dire messages of doom ifthey don’t forfeit the table.

I guess they can have the table just for today. They seem to be a happy couple and theydon’t really deserve negative telepathic messages.

Cheater Cheater

2011-09-06T06:55:00.000-07:00

In one sudden leap, summer has turned to fall and the heatis an oppression of the past. Withthe cooler weather, I have a restless urge to explore. My backpack is on standby. Nellie, mydog, is ready. My have blank pagesand plenty of ink. So, this week Iam going to cross a few fields with my friend, Nellie.

In my last blog, I wrote about breaking my hand, which wasbroke last year. I blame Nellie for the break and Nellie places the blame uponme. Here is the tale and I willlet readers place proper blame.

Nellie and I have a love love relationship. She loves me andI love her. We show our lovethrough a game of chase, which is actually not chase. The game should be called,“Run around a like fool for no apparent reason and in random directions until exhausted.” I call our game chasebecause the label makes me feel less stupid.

During a chase session, I paused in middle of the backyardand I decided to surrender the game. I glanced at the backdoor, which was open. Nellieglanced at the door. I looked at Nellie and she looked at me. We took another glance at the door. Idid NOT start the race!

Nellie is a monster lab topping 90 pounds and though my memoryof the accident is not sharp, I do know basic physics. A beast of a dog and a grown man can’tfit through a door at a dead run at the same time. Yes, at a full sprint I hit the doorframe shattering a bone inmy hand. The pain was intense.

With an inquisitive tilted head, Nellie looked at me whilepanting and proudly standing in the house. In pain I protested my loss, “Nellie you cheated!” Not only does she think the break was my fault but she also thinks she fairly won the race.

My Mad Man Skills

2011-09-04T14:49:00.000-07:00

I have good man skills. I can mow the yard in straight lines and I can carry totrash to the curb without falling and breaking bones. However recently I did break my handrunning around like a fool playing with my best friend, Nellie my lab.

Repairing broken items is normally categorized as a husbandendeavor around our home. Nellie,yes the dog who caused my broken hand, fell deeply in love with the cablingthat provides the phone and net connection. In the mind of our chocolate lab love is the same as tochewing, shredding, and then destroying. So, our cabling was loved to death. Instead of calling the cable company, Idecided that the repair was my job.

The very blog is evidence that I do indeed have mad manskills in the arena of repair. There is only one problem. When we get a phone call, we loseconnection to the net.

I think that I need to call the cable company.

No Honor Among Thieves

2011-09-02T06:48:00.000-07:00

I steal ideas and I am not apologizing! I deeply admire wonderfully happypeople who seemingly live in a state of carefree happenstance. They brightly shine and I try to stealtheir secrets to polish my own life.

Years ago an art professor and I were discussing our lovefor art magazines. I discoveredthat she made a huge event from the arrival and the reading of her favoritemagazine. She would not turnsingle page until she had peaceful surroundings. Deep within herchair and surrounded by stillness and aroma of coffee, she mined all possibleenjoyment from a single endeavor.

Her idea was amazing. I thought she made Einstein look like a fool. I wondered why she was notrunning for governor or the president. She at least needed her own talk show or advice column.

Stealing her idea, I now harvest enjoyment from a morning cupof coffee. I attempt to obtain veryfiber of enjoyment within an hour…..or two….or three….or a day.

Walk slow and wander a bit.

And as always, be good to you.

Friendship

2011-09-01T12:35:00.000-07:00

A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil; but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often - just to save it from drying out completely. Pam Brown

As always, be good to you and your friends!

Finder Keeper

2011-08-31T06:16:00.000-07:00

My wife is the family radar. She instinctively knows the location of everything. On contrast, I instinctively don’t know this location of anything. This is my gift. So on many hectic mornings, I ask for the location of many things.

“Honey, have you seen my shoes?”

They are in the closet, behind the door!”

“And my belt? I just had it! Where did it go! Who stole my belt!”

“It is on the corner of the bed! Who would steal THAT belt?”

“Hey! it is a good looking belt! My wallet? I can’t find it!”

“On the table.”

“Have you seen world peace?”

“World peace is in the third drawer of the dresser.”

“Good we should call the president. While I call could you find the cure for cancer?”

September skies.

2011-08-29T13:58:00.000-07:00

Flowing through the grasses and trees the late summer wind assumes the hints of fall. These are the days of remembrance: the days that move my soul. Indeed, the slightest September scent can instantly trigger thoughts of my youth. However the most powerful trigger is the color of a September sky.

With the retreating heat, the sky moves from the hazy dull blue of summer to the brilliant crisp blue of fall. Lovers might praise the golden change of the trees however let’s take a few moments to cast our gaze upward.

We can’t endlessly stand in a state of awe. We would become annoying to our family and friends. However throughout the day, we can briefly pause and consider our lot this world. And in one of these moments, don’t forget to look upward.

As always, be good to you.

The Art Show and the Homeless Man

2011-08-28T06:17:00.000-07:00

I recently had art show. Throughout the night, I causally walked through the crowd and engaged in many wonderful conversations. I adore discussing art and after the show my voice was raw from use.

After the show I stopped for gas at a near station preparing for a long and late trip home. At the station, a homeless man approached and asked, “Sir can I ask for your help?”

I have many quirks. One quirk is the inability to say no to the homeless when they ask for help. In my life, I have never failed to give money if I had money to give. I once lied to a homeless man telling him that I had no money when I did. After walking twenty feet, I felt so guilty that I returned to the man and give money to him.

On vacations in large cities, I give all my money to my wife. This method is trickery however it works. Also I do not consider a debit card to be money. So technically I do not have money, on my person.

So while pumping gas I ironically and confidently replied to the man, “I am sorry but I don’t have money.

The man pushed, “The people in this town are cruel. I am not from here. I would not waste your time asking for your money. I need some food. Just a little. Not much at all.”

With his rebuttal he defeated my gambit, which has been so successful in the past. Showing him my cash barren wallet I continued, “I don’t have money. But when I pay for my gas, I can buy you some food from the station.”

Again he parried, “I don’t want anything from here. I am hungry. Can I please have some real food?”

“Wait here. Let me pay for my gas and I will drive you to Wendy’s which is right down the road.”

So after an art show, a homeless man and I drove to a Wendy's. After Wendy’s I drove him to a shelter. He liked eighties music. So I found a good radio station that played the classics while we enjoyed the cool night air. He told me about his life. He is from a farming community in south Arkansas and he is trying for a new start.

A few days later, my wife downloaded the recent bank transactions. Curious, she asked, “Larry did you spend about 20 dollars at Wendy’s?"

I nodded, “Yes, a homeless guy was really hungry! And wow, He could eat!”

Laughing she said, “You are not kidding; are you?”

Yes I have issues. But how many people, driving a topless jeep, have drove around town with a homeless guy while listening to “And we Danced” by the Hooters and eating a Wendy's meal?

As always, be good to you!

Think Different

2011-08-27T15:49:00.000-07:00

Here’s to the crazy ones.

The misfits.

The rebels.

The troublemakers.

The round pegs in the square holes.

The ones who see things differently.

They’re not fond of rules.

And they have no respect for the status quo.

You can quote them,

disagree with them,

glorify or vilify them.

About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them.

Because they change things.

They invent.

They imagine.

They heal.

They explore.

They create.

They inspire.

They push the human race forward.

Maybe they have to be crazy.

How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art?

Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never been written?

Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?

We make tools for these kinds of people.

While some see them as the crazy ones,

we see genius.

Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world,

are the ones who do.

The above is the long version of the "The Crazy Ones" and "Think Different" slogan of Apple in the 1990s

Welcome to Today

2011-08-26T12:33:00.000-07:00

Say hello to today. Today is not yesterday and it is not tomorrow. So, welcome to now. Yet just for a moment, let’s leave now and peel away the years. Let’s return to when we were 12. Are you there yet? Don’t hurry. I will wait. Can you see yourself at that age?

Now what are you doing? Maybe you are running on a pier to bravely jump into the water. You could be at the top of a tree: the prince or princess of all the land. Maybe you were too shy to speak to that special boy or girl. Maybe you could not stop talking.

Now remember your dreams and your hopes. Remember the things that made you smile. Well, today is a good day to get started on those things. It is about time; don’t you think?

As always, be good to you.

The rise of the fitted sheet

2011-08-25T02:24:00.000-07:00

Pastel 8x12

done as a quickie taking about 15 minutes

Some things take more time

My house is full of magical things. When I press a button, ice drops into my glass. Seemingly, I have an unending supply of the frozen stuff. My glass is cleaned by another touch of a button. Running through a magic box even the air in my house stays cool in the heat of summer. All of these magical devices are amazing!

Struck with a fit of consideration and wanting to impress my wife, I decided to help around the house and try to operate two magical devices in my home: the washer and dyer.

First every man needs goals in life.. To achieve the goals, men need a clear path or a plan of action. My goals were simple. My heroic quests were to clean linen and clean the bathes and bedrooms. So here is my tale as it actually occurred. No names have been changed to protect the guilty.

It was a dark, stormy day and the workers in the fields paused to consider the threat of…………….wait wrong story. So after filling the washer with linen, I paused to consider the settings and my main concern was the water temperature. Do I select cold/cold? Warm/cold? Hot/warm? I decided the hotter the better. If the washer had the setting “the face of the sun” I would have chosen that.

After washing and drying the linens, the task of making the beds was next. First at bat were the fitted sheets. One corner fell in defeat. Satisfied in my victory, I tucked the second corner and then the third. The last corner is when my plan found difficulty. When I attempted to tuck the last corner another corner would suddenly spring free. I made at least six trips around the bed doing a fitted sheet merry-go-round. With each attempt to fasten the last corner another corner acquired the urge for freedom. I could not suppress the linen uprising.

Frustrated by the audacity of the fitted sheet, I paused. Then I jumped back on the line merry-go-round for more fun. Finally after 20 minutes, I defeated the unruly sheet.

In the glow of victory, I paused to consider the battlefield and thought, “I think I should select cold/cold next time.”

eye test

2011-08-24T11:06:00.000-07:00

Recently I had an eye examine. I am getting older and my peepers are aging with my body. Apparently eyes are a body part. My wife, giving moral support, was present during the examination. The following is a top secret transcript from the examination or interrogation room.

"Sir, please read the smallest line possible"

"Could you change the chart and get bigger letters?"

"OK, how about now?"

"Hmmmmm B X R T," struggling to decipher the images I assumed a trend of letters and said, "a backwards E! Yes, a backwards E!"

"Sir, that is a 3."

"OH! a 3!" in the background I heard my wife groan.

Later I was informed that I am farsighted. I asked if that means I could see the future.

directions

2011-08-24T10:32:00.000-07:00

First, I want to offer a fair warning to readers. Today, I might linger until the end of time while beating the keys of my computer. This entry might be long and wade into deep waters.

At this moment rain is cleansing the world outside my window. Summer’s grip is failing and fall is readying for a visit. This transition often stirs my emotions through the trigging of memories. So during this time of year, I am often captured looking backwards through the decades.

I do not consider myself a good artist. I don’t even consider myself a competent artist. Yet, I have the soul and spirit of an artist and I at least attempt to feebly create. Having an artistic or romantic outlook has massive benefits. Artists are generally a happy lot. However locked with the benefits of a creative spirit are many major pitfalls. One disadvantage is melancholy. Often, melancholy is a frequent companion to people who create. Great artists such as Van Gogh and Hemmingway struggled with the visitation of melancholy.

We should careful with our perspective. The past can hold powerful lures that entrap and steal gifts from the present. If we endlessly pounder our past innocence then how can we nourish our current sense of innocence?

Melancholy, especially lingering melancholy, is often the result of a wrong outlook that builds a fortification in the past. We need an outlook, which builds a temporary campsite in the past: a place where we visit yet not stay.

So, when we remember past friends, events, lost family, or circumstances let’s make sure that we have a proper perspective. Let’s be quick to forgive but quicker to be thankful. Nothing of importance is really lost unless we purposely place it as lost.

Outside of true hardships, very moment in time is wonderful with the present standing above all. Always be good to yourself. Have faith. Be friendly. And, engage life.

To do list

2011-08-17T06:46:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have a bucket list. My long seemingly senseless list contains both the silly and serious. The website www.43things.com is a terrific site to start and update a life list. Here are a few items from my list.

Number 17 on my list is “climb a tree.” Yes, my dexterity will do battle against gravity. With luck, gravity will decide to take a working vacation the day of my climb. Throughout my life, gravity and I have not been the greatest of friends and we are not on speaking terms.

Standing tall at number 12 is “Learn how to play the piano.” I always have the urge to tickle the keys of pianos, which stand unguarded in hotel lobbies. I simply need to play one song really well and never take requests. Always leave an audience thinking that you are better, smarter, and more successfully then you actually are. Honesty is overrated.

Rebelling at number 3 is “protest for cause.” The specific cause is unimportant yet a cause that I actually support would be preferable. An arrest is bonus points.

At number is “imagine.’ Number18 is “create something beautiful.” “Sending a message in a bottle” is at 26.

Number 5 is “be more spiritual.” In my mind spirituality is synonymous with romanticism. So, my list needs to be completed with a romantic perspective. The message in a bottle can’t be an ordinary message. The song springing from the piano must be soaring and the tree is not for climbing but ascending

A bucket list must be done properly.

My Grandfather

2011-08-12T08:01:00.000-07:00

I will not admit many shortcomings but I will admit to three: the curse of the premature graying of my hair, a mild speech disorder, and a heavy dose of ADD.

Actually, my gray hair is not a curse. I started turning gray in high school. Throughout my life, my gray has been badge of individuality. My mild speech disorder is also a badge of individuality. It only offers a major hindrance when I am talking on a phone with a stranger. In all other instances, my stutter is humorously mild. If I communicate smoothly with a person, the smoothness is indication that I like and trust the person and I am very comfortable with the person.

My ADD is burdensome but it bonds me with my grandfather, a man who I deeply admire. He was always getting lost in words while losing himself and things, which were attached to him. Yet he always easily forgave himself for losing himself and he often turned his misfortune into funny effacing adventures! He never took his location disorder too seriously.

Yes, my grandfather had many disorders. He was also sandwich challenged. His sandwiches were always heavily leaning on the verge of falling apart, like buildings after an earthquake. He must have known magic or used glue, because his sandwiches did not have the capacity to remain as a unit.

Maybe his use of glue is why I currently have ADD. Now where was I? Why did I write this blog? Oh I remember: to the people who get this blog through email (the people who do not hear me stutter much….or my friends), this blog is changing a bit. I am going to write more and use a light dusting of humor. I will still post sketches and paintings but I will yak about things that pop into my head, which could be dangerous considering my massive intake of glue as a boy. If you wish off the list simply email me.

Be good to you.

at this time

2011-08-10T05:44:00.000-07:00

Recently a friend asked for things, which we are thankful. I like the question!

I am thankful for my friends and family. I am thankful for memories of my boyhood and past friends. Yet answers to the question are really unimportant. The importance is within our fundamental outlook.

We will always have endeavors, which harbor our gratitude. On contrast, we will always have events, which burn our senses, frustrate, and sadden. Both of these lines of perspective will always have an endless string of moments. Yet at this specific moment I choose to focus on gratitude.

Summer

2011-08-03T10:19:00.000-07:00

Summer of my youth was not hot and oppressive. I did not complain about the sun. It was a time of limitless freedom.

The Last of Summer

2009-11-04T05:53:00.000-08:00

This painting was quickly done in 30 minutes. I used texture to add to the feeling of distress and frailty. Using water, I caused the pastel to run and I did no cover texture.

I wanted a very loose and interesting texture. However I still wanted to retain contrast and vivid color. Most of these types of decisions are made very randomly and quickly.

Purpose of Life.

2009-07-16T21:02:00.001-07:00

Into The Light

2009-07-02T12:59:00.000-07:00

The view of a field from a position within the trees.

wildflowers

2009-03-01T13:56:00.000-08:00

A broken frame gave me a chance to rework a picture which needed some new direction.

Courtney's Field

2009-02-24T07:43:00.000-08:00

Lights on Hillside

2009-02-21T10:49:00.001-08:00

But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

Verge

2009-02-03T18:03:00.001-08:00

old bag

2008-12-01T12:41:00.000-08:00

I received a wonderful new messenger bag for a gift and I decided to sketch my old bag. My old bag has been a wonderful friend. Over the years, I ignored my friend then embraced. I forgot my friend then remembered. Every goodbye had a hello.

This current goodbye is lingering…however, it is underlined with hope. In the future, I could find my friend through happenstance rummaging through an old collection of things. Yes, I am not ridding myself of my bag….just placing it aside for the moment.

The saddest goodbyes are partings without a whisper of hope for a hello.

Old Barn

2008-11-08T08:38:00.000-08:00

This barn is for a wonderful lady form California. She visited the state of Arkansas and walked into the gallery. We started talking about art, specifically drawing. Upon seeing my sketchbook, she was thrilled to see this old barn.

And now for from background on the barn. The barn rests about 5 miles north of my home. The location is a bit out of the way. However, I often extend my drive to pass by the barn. I have been watching this barn for a decade.

The barn is on the edge of existence. This fact is what captured my attention in the first place. Over the years, the barn has moved even closer to non-existence. I suspect on one summer day, I will pass by the location and it will be completely gone.

I often have a theme of transition and this fits nicely in my general theme.

old light

2008-11-07T08:43:00.000-08:00

I have to dive into drawing for the next few weeks. A very nice lady from California wants a few black and whites. In my opinion, a wall with a collection of stark black and white art is powerful and classic. I have such a wall in my own home.

Getting ready to draw, I went through my stash of drawings and found this drawing.
I often take little road trips through the country…..I prefer getting lost on dirt roads. On one of my explorations, I discovered an abandoned car lost in a field of weeds. I snapped a photo of the headlight.

I often worry that I am too “folksy” however I was raised folksy. I am from a small town. I was raised along a dirt road. As a boy I roamed the woods and in the summer I was barefoot. Muddy water simply runs in my veins.

In the end, it is odd how we try to run from our past only to return to it.

Life

2008-10-26T06:36:00.001-07:00

When driving, sunlight flickering through passing trees always captures my attention and my imagination. I can’t escape the sense of movement, both physical and the movement of time.

In my overactive mind, the flickering sunlight represents passing years and the flickering resurrects childhood memories. Yet sometimes, the flickering represents our seemingly quick changing world of dark to light…light to dark.…people wanting change…people resisting change. People doing bad things….people inspiring good things. But mostly, the flickering sunlight brings positive feelings….everything is going to be ok.

We are here on this earth just for a moment; we are a flickering of light. Our energy is only for an instant and then we are spent. Yet along comes another flickering of light. Another wonderful person is born ,and he or she begins an amazing, warm, and blazing instant of life.

back and white

2008-10-25T04:27:00.000-07:00

I met a nice lady in the gallery yesterday and we talked of art. She looked at my journal which I endlessly keep on hand and then she showed the journal to her friend. The friend enjoyed the sketch of the barn and we had a warm and spirited conversation on black and white. I promised to show upload some of my back and white drawings to help her get a feeling for their impact.

I was simply amazed at the woman's passion for art....Simply amazing.

Texture

2008-07-10T01:18:00.000-07:00

This is an older painting and I was exploring texture.

I always loved texture…..I enjoy grittiness and roughness. When drawing, I never blend with a finger or a blending stump. And, with pastel, a ‘finger tap” is all the blending which I will embrace. Texture gives the viewers something to ponder when their noses are a few inches from the canvas.

With this work, I actually placed a mixture of sand and glue to the paper.

I am sure there is some emotional reason for my rough preference. Maybe I want to inject masculinity or power into my work. I do not know. Yet, we do nothing without a reason

The Desert

2008-07-09T23:52:00.001-07:00

Here, I am exploring the use of layering color in the sky and background of paintings. I adore this process. Generally a cool color is placed first if a painting will be warm. Of course a warm color is placed first if the end result will be a cool painting.

Oddly a blazing pink is a great choice for an under painting.

Also, I swapped the normal color unity scheme. Generally, warm colors are highlight colors and color colors (even with a bit of warm) are shadows. I ignored this traditional approach.

Also this painting is my first painting where I began using water with pastel to create the appearance of distance. The pastel forming the distance mountains is muddied with water and left to dry.

summer

2008-06-22T14:34:00.000-07:00

One of the leisures of summer are the long days. The sun lingers in the sky. At nine in the evening the sky still has a hint of light.

This is a time of transition. Children come home from wondering the woods and creeks. Lawn mowers are turned off and other chores are put to rest. Work is done…play is done and the world acquires a comfortable position.

Winter does not have the prefect timing of summer. In winter when sun dips low in the sky, people still buzz like insects. The roads are still clogged with commerce and busyness. Yet, the summer sun does not have this assault on its setting.

As a boy, I wondered miles from my home during the summer. My only rule was to return home when the sun turned from yellow to red. Most always, my return trip was marked with a sense of satisfaction. And today, this time of day evokes powerful feelings of hinging on the transition or the passage time.

Once upon a field

2008-06-03T05:08:00.001-07:00

I am getting better at the “messy” look which I ADORE. Yet all in all, “Painterly” is likely a better term than messy!
I have a “vision’ of what an artist should be…oh the vision is full of romance. And, the key ingredient to this vision is free spiritedness. Oh free spiritdness can be messy. It can seem bit disarranged. However in the end, a carefree attitude produces amazing things…..even if there is a mess.

A Line of Trees

2008-02-26T17:39:00.000-08:00

"Let us consider the way in which we spend our lives."
If a man walk in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. but if he spends his whole day as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making earth bald before her time, he is esteemed an industrious and enterprising citizen. As if a town had no interest in its forests but to cut them down! Most men would feel insulted if it were proposed to employ them in throwing stones over a wall, and then in throwing them back, merely that they might earn their wages. But many are no more worthily employed now

Life without Principle by Henry David Thoreau

A Pond

2008-02-23T04:21:00.001-08:00

This painting was housed in the Clinton Presidential Library for a few months and now is within a program promoting art for our youth.

Upon A Field.

2008-02-21T07:18:00.000-08:00

This painting is from a splice of two photographs. I took the sky from one and the rolling land from another. Hay bales are almost my signature image. I enjoy the solid geometric shapes which are tossed randomly about open fields.

Open Field.

2008-02-20T07:05:00.001-08:00

The bales unlock a true visual sense of scale and distance. Generally, we lack an understanding of distance because of the ease of transportation. The bales on the left, I overlapped for a better composition on depth.

A Clearing

2008-02-19T04:54:00.000-08:00

Well, this is my fist post in the blog. And my hopes?
Well, I want the blog to simply address art and nothing more in a very introspective manner. Hopefully the wondering words will get my creativeness into motion.