Thus begins the age of video previews.




People online have told me so many times that they wish they could see my art in person.

Well, this isn't *quite* the same, but... pretty close, right?

I've wanted to utilize video for years. It's finally that time.

This is just a short preview of a painting I'm almost-but-not-quite-done with. I noticed how much it sparkled in the sunlight and knew immediately that I should show you.

I love living in the future. :)

Full Circle: Repainting Art




For the record, I don't repaint things very often. Sometimes I just feel like the emotions I had while painting it the first time have changed so drastically as to make the art seem "wrong" to me.

This is especially interesting given that it's important to me that each painting be reactive to all types of light, and change throughout the seasons. I guess it goes deeper than that too, as I occasionally want (need) to alter something to reflect who I am at a later time, and how I've changed.

When a painting is purchased by a collector, the piece feels done to me. I have no desire to change it at that point. Once someone else has found something in it so profound that they want to own it, to have it in their own space, it seems to me that the process by which the art came about is complete. I make my art to put out in the universe. When it has a purpose higher than myself, an importance in someone else's life, it no longer belongs to me.

This might be an example of my crazy artist brain. I'm not sure. Some artists outright destroy their own work. I do know that I value my right as an artist to do what I want with my own art. There is the possibility I will repaint something on a whim if I suddenly feel the urge to do so. In this sense, it's good to get the painting away from me, out into the world so that I no longer feel any power over it, or powerlessness to the emotional struggle it causes me.

Either way, it's all part of my internal process in life. I view it as a good thing.

Perfectionism and The Creative Gap



(originally said by Ira Glass, of This American Life, and subsequently spread around the internet on blogs and through Twitter by various creative types. I can't determine who made this particular graphic.)

I'm a perfectionist, allow me to just say that upfront. 

I set impossible standards for myself, ones that I couldn't be expected to achieve, and then experience the soul-crushing reality of having not achieved those things. In some ways, this ongoing ritual forwards my ability to accomplish goals and motivates me to work harder. Often, it just sets off a downward spiral of disillusionment and self-loathing.

You can imagine how this goes when I utterly fail at something. It's hard to tell what is failure and what isn't, of course, since anything short of perfection tends to be regarded as failure. There are tears. There is depression. There is the general belief that everything will come crashing down, that everything I do is a waste of time, that my goals are nothing more than a mirage in the distance, something I never quite arrive at.

Here's the thing about perfection: It's an illusion. 

I have a few friends who have claimed that at some point in the vague distant future they are going to "launch" themselves and their careers after they have perfected all the kinks and nuances of who they intend to be. See, I don't actually believe this method is possible. I don't think one can burst forth into the universe fully formed, with a fully functioning website, a beautiful portfolio, a backlog of internet history, and plenty of obvious experience and high-profile contacts like the midcareer rockstars they want people to believe they are.

You have to suck first. Publicly. You have to start with crappy materials, make dumbass comments, put out bad work. I know, it's shocking, and a punch in the stomach, but that's how it has to be. I sincerely believe this. What I hear when people talk about how one day they will arrive on the scene in perfect form ready to "start" their successful careers is delusion, and the probability of it never happening at all. ProTip: You're never going to feel ready.

Successful people fail first. It's not that they're not embarrassed about the stupid things they did early on, or continue to do. It's the feeling of being uncomfortable that inspires them to do better, to improve. How do you even know what you suck at if you don't put it out there? How will you make better work if you don't have a starting point?

You have to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

I don't want to be someone who never improves because I never tried. I want to get as close to my high standards as I possibly can. I can't imagine how bad I'd feel about myself if I hadn't been willing to put less than stellar material into the world that has gotten better over the course of years, that still continues to improve as I go. I want to start new things and improve upon those as well. I want to constantly be evolving into the best that I can be.

I will never achieve anything remotely close to this without first taking risks that may or may not work, and sucking it up when they don't. If I don't have the skills to learn and adapt, how will I achieve anything? How will I survive?

It starts somewhere. If it doesn't, it has nowhere to go. 

I don't want to ever reach a point in which I feel I have accomplished everything I set out to do, that I am somehow complete. There's always something to do better. There's always a way to reach higher. The satisfaction, ultimately, comes from embracing the road to get there, and simply enjoying the process, through all the pain and triumph and embarrassment. 

I am the work in progress. 


Japan Adventures: First Day in Kyoto

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[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

Technically we'd arrived in Kyoto a day earlier, but that day was lost entirely to travel. Our heads were soaked in sake and karaoke music and we had vague memories of paying a cab to drive us back to our hotel the wrong way down one-way streets after midnight because the trains had been mysteriously shut down early the previous night.

Between this and the car accident I'd been in exactly one week prior in Los Angeles, I was beat. My back had finally started to hurt from days of walking and standing, and the various forms of pain medication I'd been told to flood myself with weren't working. (Kristen kindly offered to carry my backpack for me, leaving Greg to lug around two suitcases on his own. If I was too delirious to do so at the time, MANY MANY THANKS for that.)

I remember little of that day. It was a blur of trains and napping.

So, basically, our first day in Kyoto happened the following day.

Looking through the pictures, it seemed more like that day must have been 3 weeks long. I can't believe we did so much in about 15 hours. It was warmer by now, we were further south, and Sakura season was coming along. The blossoms everywhere were heavenly. We walked and walked and walked. The temples were amazing, and there seemed to be millions of them.













 

Around sunset, we arrived at a Hanami (flower watching) festival at a temple in Gion. It was perfect timing. The sun was streaming through the blossoms and everyone was celebrating. We grabbed a beer, sat beneath the trees and checked out the different street food stands. Evening in Kyoto is quite magical.

It was a very long, very incredible day. And our time in Kyoto was just beginning.


Synthesis . 24x36 . 2011

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1. natural light
2. artificial interior light
3. artificial and uv light combined
4. uv light only (blacklight)
5. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, varnish, water & light

I envy the room this painting will live in. Not because of the painting itself (although I think it's awesome) but because the *room* is awesome. It's a sunroom, with a fireplace and an attached deck, and giant windows that overlook a full wall of the prettiest, greenest trees I've ever seen. I can't imagine what it must be like to live there. I don't really think I'd leave that room much. Seriously, it's like my dream room.

The colors in this piece are intended to reflect that. It changes from olive and teal to orange and blue just by walking past it. 


^Viewed from the left.


^Viewed from the right.

I'm very excited to see what it will become in a room that's so alive with light and movement. I've intended it to reflect and change as the sun moves across the sky each day, mirroring the outside world as Amanda and Robert enjoy life from the inside. In natural daylight the painting already leans very green, and I'm sure this will be enhanced by reflecting the color of the outside trees. At night the tones warm up to darker golds.

The painting itself was made for the sun and trees. Just as the trees change colors all year, so will the painting. The daytime should be a direct reflection of what color is outside, in the sky and all around their home.

I love working with the seasons. Adding yearly transits and seasonal cycles to interact with my art makes me feel like I am part of something so much greater. I use our very sun to paint with.

:)

The Shire . 24x36 inches . 2011

in , , ,
1.

2.

3.


4.

5.

6.

7.

1. morning (natural light)
2. noon (natural light)
3. late afternoon (natural light)
4. evening (interior artificial light)
5. Midsummer's Eve party is beginning! (interior and UV black light combined)
6. Gandalf's firework show (UV light only)
7. Time to sleep and dream (no light / glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, sand, phosphorescent pigments, crushed glass, glass beads, water & light on canvas

I'm showing you 3 different natural lighting pictures so you can really see how it changes when the sun moves across the sky during the day. :)

When my friend Beth texted me to ask if I'd be willing to do a painting based on the Shire, I said yes immediately, despite "landscapes" not being something I normally paint. I knew exactly what it would look like the moment I saw her text. The final painting isn't much different from the sketch I jotted down minutes after telling her I would do it.



The sky changes colors! Of course it does. It's THE SHIRE.


^Viewed from the left.


^Viewed from the right.

The stained glass windows of the hobbit hole change colors too. :) Check out picture #4 up top.

Every hobbit hole needs a fancy door.



Fireflies. They stay twinkling even after the fireworks have gone out. :)

Beth wanted a painting of her favorite place, something that inspired her and gave her a calm, peaceful mindset in which she could write. (She's a writer!) The Shire is her favorite place, I think, and I like to pretend that it exists somewhere out there. She and I both share Hawaii as a profoundly inspiring (real life) place, so I felt I knew a bit where she was coming from. I read The Hobbit while making this painting, and it influenced every step I took. As I experienced Bilbo's journey, I kept asking myself what *I* would want to return home to after such an ordeal.

Man that book is awesome. Have you read it? Of course you have. I hadn't, technically, it felt like I had, I knew the story, it had been repeated to me endlessly by Colin and our friends over the last 10 years and I knew all about the Shire, of course, that was something that always really resonated with me. But obviously The Hobbit is a whole different (smaller, cuter) beast than Lord of the Rings and I was wrong to think I knew everything I needed to know about Bilbo and him going There and Back Again and omg how many ponies had to die in the making of that story?

Anyway. Fantastic book. The only bad part about it was that it ended. Well, I guess, except for the three other (giant) books that come after it. Anyway.

Just so we're clear, this is not Bilbo's house. This is Beth's house.

Beth, I've stocked it up with ale and pies, a few cakes, some tobacco, and plenty of wood to get you through the first leg of your stay, but you'll likely need to fill it back up before you move to Vancouver. There's plenty of rooms though, you won't ever be without pies and visitors. May this painting bring the Shire to you and serve as the perfect writer's retreat no matter where you live. :)

Sacred Space . 30x40 inches . 2011

in





1. natural light (bright, clean, direct daylight)
2. natural light (warmer sunset daylight)
3. interior light (direct artificial lights, warm toned)
4. mixed interior and uv black light
5. uv light only (with a blacklight)
6. no light (glow in the dark)

Ingredients: acrylic, candle wax, beach sand, phosphorescent pigments, varnish, water & light on canvas.

Perhaps you've seen this design before. (If not, you're gonna have to search it out in my portfolio.) The original, Thin Space, was my first professionally sold painting, completed in 2006, a little over 5 years ago. I've played with the design on request a little bit here and there, though this is the first time I've recreated it on the exact same size canvas. 

It's funny (to me) how people react to it. Everyone in my life seems to have a profound relationship with Thin Space, for whatever reason, probably because it was the painting I announced my career with. As an artist, my relationship with it has evolved much in the same way my techniques and inspirations have evolved. They are definitely no longer the same. It's not just that I cannot create a piece exactly as it was, although I can't. I don't even use the same materials. There's no possible way to get the paint to dry exactly as it did on a previous painting. More importantly, I wouldn't choose to. My art now is a reflection of my life now, just as it was then. Who I am, and the person I've become is reflected directly in what I create.

This painting is not in competition with Thin Space. This is who I am now. I made it to be what I see now. I reworked a few things I wanted changed, of course, but mostly it's that my exploration of the concept is fundamentally different. Today, I see Thin Space as mother-of-pearl, and almost futuristic looking. Shiny, glassy, new. I have moved beyond what I liked five years ago. They both represent different phases of me. I wouldn't expect anyone to say that I, myself, was better 5 years ago, or better now. I'm just different. (Actually, I do think I'm better today than 5 years ago, but that's another blog post.)

Either way, I think I'm going to retire this design for now. Maybe in another 5 years I'll make it again, to see how I've changed. I like using this painting as a benchmark for my progress. It seems fitting. Thin Spaces are a constant in all my paintings, though the titles may change. I paint This Spaces. That's what I do. 


As viewed from the left.


As viewed from the right. See how the color changes?



Whatever your opinions are about this piece, I see it as better, because I see myself as better. It's not about the painting. It's about who I've become. I will be different in 5 years, I promise. It's a good thing. 

"You cannot step into the same river twice." -Heraclitus

Watching Over . 24x30 inches . 2011

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 1. natural light
2. artificial light
3. artificial and black light
4. blacklight only
5. darkness

When my collector Tina and I first discussed the making of this painting, she asked me to make it as Light Reactive as possible, using lots of glass and phosphorescent pigments. Done and done.

The moon shifts from violet to blue-green, depending on the time of day. The ocean waves shift from gold to white to green.

It's one of those pieces that can't be fully appreciated through the lens of a camera since it changes so distinctly as you walk past it. Two people standing on either side of the painting will think it's a different color.

I love making stuff. :)

Moon over water paintings are possibly my favorite pieces to do. It's not just that I find the concept and end result to be peaceful, but the very act of creating it and experiencing its progress puts me in a calm state of mind. (Something I often need anyway, especially when I have lots of work to do.)

Tina's father passed away a few months ago, just before I began work on this painting. Everyone called him Kick. I wrote his name underneath the moon, and I hope that this artwork will honor him and serve as a beacon of peace and serenity for Tina and her family. 


Japan Adventures: Karaoke

in
[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

You know what they say. When in Tokyo...

Also, remember that sake I mentioned 12 times? Well, funny thing about Japan. Not only can you drink openly on the street and buy massive amounts of sake in every convenience store in the city, but they sell it in juice boxes! Maybe that's what fooled us. It's just juice! Right?? We stocked up and smuggled it into our private Karaoke room. Don't tell them, you're not supposed to do that, even though everybody does that. Oh and also, you have to buy one drink per person when renting the room, so we went with Shochu, which can only be described as sake that's more like vodka. Hooray.

All good ideas. Another good idea was when we miraculously ran out of sake and Greg went on a sake mission through the streets of Tokyo to find more. WHICH HE DID.














Yup.

To be continued...

Japan Adventures: Okonomiyaki

in
[Previously on: Japan Adventures]

Say that 10 times fast.

After a long day of wandering the streets of Tokyo, the four of us finally met up with Laurence and promptly demanded one thing: Sake.

Well, that and Okonomiyaki.

Colin and Laurence and been scheming this meal since we arrived. To be honest, I had no idea what they were talking about. "Kind of like an omelette," I was told. What? Eggs? You want eggs in Japan? Uh, okay, if that's your thing, I don't care. As long as we get Sake.

So, given our requests, Laurence directed us to this little place down the way that he'd been anxious to show us since the word "Okonomiyaki" had first been uttered. It was clearly a local favorite. (yay!)

I humored them and their need for eggs, because LOOK AT THAT SAKE GLASS! No, that's not water. It's life. Hot, buttery, life. In a giant glass. Ahhhhhh, sake.

 




Laurence ordered for us. He's handy like that. We waited. We were all anxious to discover why the boys were so excited about eggs. The place was awesome though. I kind of wanted to live there. And the smell of whatever eggy thing was being prepared was heavenly.

Anticipation...




And.... here! Wait, that doesn't look like an omelette, that looks like... pizza? Paradise? Yum?

Actually it was served a bit like pizza, everyone took their own slice, but it was, in fact, eggs. I wish you could see the way the onions were still cooking and curling before us on the hot plate. You never think to take video of food until later. Now I could finally see what all this egg madness was about.


omg yum eggs aahhhh nomnom eggs yum nom. Or something like that. I don't think we shared a lot of words. There was eating. And more eating. AND IT WAS FREAKING DELICIOUS. The absolute best egg-based thing I have ever eaten ever. EVER. Yum. Good call, boys. I stand corrected. Woo eggs.

Oh, and did I mention that sake? ::cue the angels singing::


I probably should have gotten a picture of the glass next to something for perspective, but it wasn't a traditional sake glass. Actually I think they just served it in a regular water glass. Bless them.

I hold that sake directly responsible for the events that followed.


Morning and Evening Series

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I started these many, many moons ago and had to put them aside during most of the last year due to time constraints with my Studio C Show, Japan, and Joey.

Morning Series:



 (natural light, mixed uv & artificial light, blacklight, no light)

Evening Series:



(natural light, mixed uv & artificial light, blacklight, no light)


I really do enjoy making things in sets. I have a couple of sets I'm planning for the next collection, although those are intended to be quite large. These are more like mini sets. :)

They're also the last I'll be doing at this size for a long time. I have a bazillion plans and at the moment, I'm out of this size canvas with no intention to order more until I have completed a bunch of other pieces. As of this blog post, one of them is already spoken for, but the Evening Set is still available. Be quick! They go fast.  --Now sold. :)

In other news, our house is finally getting put back together. Bizarrely, I felt as though the month and a half of life with cement floors may have been a blessing of sorts, since I was ultimately able to do four months of work in a month's period of time. I'm nearing the end of all my current commissions. Between the freedom to work over a larger (non-carpeted) space, and not having a car and therefore being trapped here with piles of furniture everywhere, I really focused in on my art, perhaps as a distraction from the chaos. Whatever the motivation, I'm going to try and keep up the pace.

I am, however, happy to have our house back again.

Happy June! I love June. It's always been my most creative month. :)

Night Sky Color Study - 2011

New Color Study!!






Head over to my Etsy shop for details and purchasing options.

Actually it's my first, and only, original 5x5 inch original painting since September 2010. I don't have any more planned right now, although I am finishing up two really amazing sets of four 5x5s which will be available next week. No more individual ones for awhile, however.

I started all these many moons ago, and had a bit of time here and there in the last month to finish them up. I've been working like crazy lately. Basically I have 8 different paintings (not including those 2 sets I mentioned) in various stages of progress going right now.

I've been taking advantage of the cement floors we've been living with for a month and a half and attempting to get 4 months work done in half the time. I guess the massive irritation of having a hot water pipe burst downstairs and flood everything has been a blessing in disguise. Sort of. That's what I'm telling myself anyway.

As I'm busy with commissions for the foreseeable future, I won't have too much available in the way of Originals for a bit. Hopefully I'll be starting a new collection in a few months. In the meantime, I also have 23 prints available in my shop in two different sizes.

More Japan soon. :) There was also a mini-weekend trip to Temecula wine-country thrown in there. Hooray travel and photography. :)

Japan Adventures: Harajuku

in
[Previously on: Japan Adventures]


The famed Harajuku, where the cool kids hang out and shop. We felt so hip. Everything was colorful and crowded and crazy. No, really:



You basically have to make a decision and then jump straight in. Once you're in the middle of that crowd, there's no turning back. Keep on moving till it spits you out the other side.


Along the way we saw things like this:


And this:



And THIS:


GAHHH!!



Whew. Made it.


Because of the huge crowd and the fact that the shops were incredibly tiny, we only ventured into a few. There were women screaming about sales. People were wearing awesomely ridiculous outfits. I lost a mitten. Colin found the mitten. It was a whirlwind of an hour.

Loved it.

Japan Adventures: Juxtaposition

in
[previously on: Japan Adventures]

First we stopped through Ueno Park to enjoy the budding blossoms with the locals. Serene.



 

Kitties! In a tree. With fancy collars. We had no explanation for this, but everyone was taking their picture, so obviously they were kind of a big deal.

Actually, cats cause frenzied photo-taking all over Japan. Everyone was lined up snapping shots on their cell phones. No idea why. But we didn't feel too silly by joining in.



Walk a few blocks down the street and you'll find the bustling shopping district of Ueno. It's an odd feeling to leave a beautiful park and find yourself in a maze of people, restaurants, and discount t-shirt stores. But, thus is Tokyo.








Had I known beforehand that Ueno is where the cheap shopping was, maybe I would have spent more time considering. Not that I was specifically looking to do cheap shopping, but in retrospect, I might have found a thing or two. They had a bunch of silk-stitched Japanese souvenir jackets there, with images on them of dragons and tigers and pandas, but in an extreme, ridiculous sort of way. There were jackets with sushi on them, and war gods. There was one that said "Alaska: The Last Frontier." There was also a Casper and Wendy jacket with Hawaii written on it. Whaaaa...?? We joked that we should each get a travel-buddy team jacket. By the end of our trip I had decided that I needed a cheapo-ironic dragon or panda jacket to wear back home. However, when I started looking at them outside of Ueno I discovered that these jackets were neither cheap nor ironic. Souvenir jackets are apparently serious business, and cost over $300. Oh well. Next time.