beginning to lay the first of what will be a bountiful amount of "subject matter" on the Topanga Painting.

Minneapolis Bound

Misplaced Arrangement - Acrylic on Canvas - 30" x 40" - 2006 - bound for Minneapolis - Circa Gallery


Half-size Full Stripe

Another canvas in process, with it's measurements at 48" x 84". Acrylic, poured, striped, polymer laying commencing.


Steve asked for a close-up and a raking shot, I hope this will satisfy the request? I'm going to look into the materials you mentioned as well, if there is anything that I am, I'm a curious, curious cat...
I came across a quote on the
  • Mindsprinter blog that seems to fit for me and she was quoting from Fluxist, Robert Filliou's 1970 book "Teaching and Learning as a Performative Art". "Sometime in the late 1960s, Filliou was talking with his friend Billy Kluver, a research scientist at Bell Laboratories. The reason scientists make greater strides in their field than artists do in theirs, Kluver told him, is that scientists ‘don't know what science is.’ (Filliou, 1970: 87). . .The book is in many ways Filliou's answer to Kluver's provocation. ‘It is true’, Filliou says, ‘that artists spend a powerful lot of time and energy trying to convince each other about what is art and what is not. They do not know that they don't know.’
  • I recognize this internally, I've always felt this way. The sense of experimentation has always been the kink for me, the not knowing, whether with storytelling, or creating a sense of history to why and how, and in context to this section, materials. Now granted, I'm reading this as a manifest[and taking liberties, I'm an artist(?) after all] in regard to my own way of working, and definately take this in a subjective way, but it does sting of truth to the way many of us[artists(?)] relate.
    Steve, in regard to the commission's, I have the say, it's probably the reason I don't do to many. I've had a good run recently, Nordstrom is somehow turned on right now with what I come up with, and it's been nice to be busy in here[the studio, my home].


    [Work In Progress]

    This is is the 84"x84" painting I've been working on in the studio, it has a layer of polymer on it, so as it dries a bit, I thought I would share where I'm at on it. It's vivid nature is only matched right now with the heat of summer here in Seattle, no complaints on either front.


    Thought I'd post a detail of one of the paintings I've been commissioned to to make. I have been using a combination of processes to make the work. One is a building up of the surface; I wonder at times if it's no longer a desire of many artists to build up a canvas in an effort to seduce the eye, where the deisre to touch comes on strong in a viewer? I find that making a skin is a little akin to creating a plane of seduction, perverse, perhaps, even pandering to a base core in someone, but it gets me going. It was what turned me on when I discovered art, I was awoken by a chance encounter with a Clifford Still painting, all unraveled after that.
    It's been hot here in the studio, around 94 degrees, warm. It also speeds things up in here, so drying times are fast, I'm using liquid acrylics, in combination with the reject paints from Lowes that customers are unhappy with. Mix them together at this stage, along with some polymers. The underlying patterns can come from a variety of sources, in this case I have been taking some cues from working in the preparatory field, and have bought a variety of blue painters tape, and put them to work for me, finally. I'll keep you posted as these works continue...


    Rest In Peace

    My cat, whose name is Jazz, has been having problems with keeping his food down for the last few weeks, well this morning even the wet food, which he had been able to keep down, was no longer staying in him. He had lost probably 6lbs, and was a scat 3 1/2lbs this early afternoon. Well it was time, I have had him in my life for over 16 years, he was my best pal, so comforting after any hard day I had, and the best meow, it was more like a babies voice, very original, and I knew it from wherever I was, no other cat sounded like Jazz. The vet informed me that his kidneys were failing, and there was nothing she could do for him. They placed a catheter in his leg, and let me sit with him as long as I wanted. I must have taken in his stare for 15 to 20 minutes, I cried, he was so calm, so comfortable in my lap, something he often would get wiggley over, unless of course he chose to be in my arms. Well, not today, he looked so peaceful. He went fast, he went calmly, it was so hard for me, so easy on him. The loft feels so empty now, so quiet. He will be missed, he is already missed. Jazz was my pal. He gave unconditional love, and gave it to anyone visiting me here in my studio. I tip a glass of scotch to you Jazz!


    Strolling Along

    I thought I would share the drawing I have of one
  • Mr. Steven La Rose
  • . He had a show a few years ago just around the corner from where I currently live. I was going thru one of those periods where I wasn't keeping up on any art shows, or what my artist friends were showing, or when they were having shows, etc. I was in a fallow phase, I knew it, and to me, no big deal. So I was strolling along Pine and was suddenly in the presence of my friend Steve, who just happen to be having a show, and was as well holding down the fort at the space that his show was at[normally it's a tax preparation locale]. I walked in, and fell for the piece you now see above. No question I had to have it. I needed something, and often do, that resonates an innocence of mood, of something I would be able to look at and feel lightened by, this one was it. Steve informed me he was going to be a father soon, and I think that the work in the show reflected that, well again for me, one always carries their own baggage into a show, much to an artists chagrin. I miss seeing you around town, it always seemed as though we would walk into one another like that, exchange a few valuable thoughts, well for me, and part, picking up where we left off each time we passed again. I'm glad to have run into you via
  • Dennis Hollingsworth
  • via
  • Chris Jagers
  • blog which had a link to your blog Steve. It was just like walking down the street in my own neighborhood again and discovering a gem.



    For the last two years, as I've been working and traveling, I've been doing an ongoing series of photographs that depict the trucks I always find myself behind out there on the freeway. I have about 30 to 40 of these already, and continue to collect and save them. The trucks I started seeing years ago were so flat in my frontal vision, and as I would miss being in my studio when out on the road, I found myself studying the trucks as I would a painting. They often had dirt or paint schemes that registered on my mind like canvases in the studio. I often found myself wanting to paint or repeat a gesture similar to what I was seeing in front of me, right there on the backside of a dirty, or re-painted truck. This is the work I do outside of my studio, when I travel, this is my sketchbook.


    On the road back from California to where I live in Seattle, one can make assumptions often due to repetition. I travel this route on average every six months due to the day work I do, which in a nutshell is art handling. I've done this trip for Artech now for a couple of years, and thus know about how long it will average in time, probable gas stops, where I might have to sleep along the route, eat, etc. Well this time back, there was a slew of variables. One was construction, the other was graduation. One meant traveling on roads less frequented, the other meant no available motel or hotel rooms. The first meant seeing sites like the picture above, a lumber mill steaming thru the night. The latter meant sleeping with a pillow on the steering wheel at an available rest stop, or in the back of the truck wrapped in padded blankets, which I found out offer no warmth[by the way when did hotels and motels stop putting out VACANCY/NO VACANCY signs, which now entails one to go into the lobby of every possible hotel/motel, and ask if there is an available room for the night?]. 25 Hours later, due to all variations of odd routes and sleeping in the manger, I returned to Seattle, art safe, co-worker and I safe, and a detour that resulted in a rather long day, and night, and day and a few observations that shook up a semi-annual routine.


    San Francisco Walls

    All I had to do was find them, and take their portraits. These compositions always give me ideas for paintings, and sometimes, these are enough to just be work unto themselves. All shot June 14th and 15th in San Francisco.


    Artificially Real

    Here is a shot taken as I passed through the 505 which connects I-5 with I-80. This odd section of freeway takes one to the promised land of San Francisco a bit quicker than going on down to Sacramento. The rolling hills at the north end of the stretch look like staged sets[think Lori Nix] at times, almost artificial. Of course I enjoyed passing along this seemingly artificial landscape and I always wonder, is it?


    Was in San Francisco last week, the light in that town is stunning. My friend Rachel took this picture of me taking a picture of a wall in Chinatown. I will post more pictures later of the trip.


    I always start into a canvas with the same attitude, let the paint charge me, let it create a space of it's own, and then, herd it towards the finite. In this I mean to allow a surface to come up and face me, it will inevitably surprise me, keeping me interested in the game. I've begun collecting the rejected paint of others at Lowes, the Home Improvement Store, it always reminds me of the Christmas TV story of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer's visit to the Isle Of Misfit Toys...
    Charlie-In-The-Box: I am the official sentry of the Isle of Misfit toys.
    Hermey: A jack-in-the-box for a sentry?
    Charlie-In-The-Box: Yes. My name is...
    Rudolph: Don't tell me: Jack.
    Charlie-In-The-Box: No, Charlie. That's why I'm a misfit toy. My name is all wrong. No child wants to play with a Charlie-In-The-Box so I had to come here.