...gratitude as a ritual.

The recent Open Studios and studio 20th anniversary weekend was a blast! A parade of people came through and shared in artful festivities. For me those two days amplify my already growing gratitude for all the support I've received over the years at 10th and California. It must be true for all career paths right?Mentors, Medici, angels and patrons show up at the right time to keep the fire burning. The unexpected arrive at pivotal moments to stir up flames from embers. Sometimes they blow wind into still sails. Commitment, motivation and perseverance build fine momentum but even the most stalwart and steadfast person can be thrown off course. Trailblazers do get lost. And even what's perceived as a solitary pursuit actually requires many hands. Maybe especially, so as I remain wholehearted about my path I'm also wholeheartedly grateful for those who have supported this artist in countless ways. My flames are burning and my sails are full.

...easel to easel glimpse.

So here's the creative action in the southwest corner of my studio. These two paintings and a charcoal study for another sit in temporary stasis. Very temporary. The drawing is for a commission in progress over on another easel. And while the west wall features a still life quartet coming alive, on the north floor two big pieces wait their turn to be mounted on panels, retouched and framed. On the drawing board are more rock studies. One rock painting is getting attention too. Yesterday was foggy. Today there was sun. I begin a new journal tomorrow.

...studio corners.

Looking at the overlooked is not exclusive to the world outside the realm of art galleries and art studios. Sure it's in those sanctuaries of creative display and output that artists share their observations, responses and expressions. Visions pulled from within are put on paper. Vistas seen from without are scrubbed on canvas. Symbols and icons built from anything and everything are suddenly there to share. Actually not so suddenly. These big ideas hang on the the main walls demanding and getting most of the attention. Yet in these colorful spaces there are also hiding places. There are niches, drawers and back rooms. The cloakrooms of temporarily overlooked art. There waiting in hiding spots, for that adventurous and discerning seeker of the unexpected, are treasures. Drawings, sketches, paint studies, doodles on paper cups, and experimental art of all kinds. Virtuous in their ability to catch an eye despite being out of the limelight for the moment. A painting reclines against the wall by a door near the flatfile and beams bright in the dim light. A discovery! A carved figurine sitting on a busy shelf appears from the clutter as the paragon of elegant beauty. Uplifting! A charcoal rendering peaks out of a drawer and speaks with explosive power. Unforgettable! 

For the intrepid art lover or collector there's much to be found in not so obvious places. It's just a matter of looking. 

...new paintings.

I have a pair of red-lens glasses that when worn makes the world a monochrome place. They've helped me see form without considering color for the moment. Looking at a painting in a mirror or through a reducing lens provides a fresh perspective on a developing artwork and so does the removal of color. And then I appreciate the power of color more after I've taken it away for a bit.

...studio interior.

Art Studio

Random studio snapshots are useful for personal archives. They help me to recall what was happening and what I was making. Photos assist with chronology and tell a story that may not show up in my journals or sketchbooks. I'm not trying to secure every detail of my life but I'm still trying to grow. So keeping a record helps to insure that complacency and stagnation don't take hold. And if those two fears seep through under my door then maybe this record keeping is all I need to check myself.

The Art Studio

I've been out of my art studio for around five months. The storefront I've been using as my workshop became ground zero for a long overdue construction project that was supposed to take a month. But old buildings are unpredictable and this one goes back to the 1890s. 

Once upon a time it was a brakeman's station for the trolleys that rolled down California Street. Now it is born again as an art studio.

The time away was awkward at first since it's been my habit to go there to make art. What I discovered is that the art studio is anywhere and everywhere. It's in the back of the truck and basement. It's in the attic and the dining room. It's in the backpack and anywhere outdoors. The art studio is wherever there is enthusiasm to create.

With that in mind, I intend to re-enter my old space with new vision, embrace uncertainty and see each day as another day in paradox.