Let's not get carried away...I know selling art is kind of the point of being an exhibiting artist and I'd be lying if I said I was refusing sales to "preserve control over my ouevre" or anything like that, but I have managed to find enjoyment in having all this art on hand. I'd also be lying if I said I never regretted a sale or don't miss the artwork that has found a new home. While welcome, every sale does take something away, and while money is good, art can be great and provide comfort in ways a couple hundred bucks doesn't, at least in my current situation.

I've heard many artists lament the loss of work or regret a sale in retrospect. I've never heard anyone say they wish they made less or let more drift away over the years. I've coming to realize that, while sales are good, inventory can be a gift that keeps on giving in a way money can't match.

It's alive! I'm excited to reveal Blossom in its natural habitat.

Painted over a few weeks this fall, Blossom is my addition to the 2nd Annual Ornament Trail Project hosted by the Downtown Milwaukee BID. I was honored to be chosen and very excited to see all the new ornaments in-progress and installed, plus its a joy to come around the bend on Wisconsin ave and be greeted by the first sculptural addition to the Natural Remedy series!

You can find Blossom outside the Northwestern Mutual building where Wisconsin Ave. turns into Prospect, just across the street from the Betty Brinn Children's Museum!

​Find out more about the project HERE, check out Scout Gallery to purchase a piece from the Natural Remedy collection, or contact me directly to commission your own addition to the series. 

This series started like most of mine do: unintentionally.

​I got a set of 7 frames donated by a great friend and collector of my work (a topic for another day: Donate your surfaces and supplies to artists you like). Frankly, I planned on using them as nothing more than simple black frames for a yet-undetermined future show. After I got them home i realized I had moved the majority of my art to the storage unit due to the flood and would have to tote the frames over there, or bring a bunch of art back home in order to try them out. Laziness took over and I put it off for a while...

I had them leaning against a pile of art for a few days and managed to catch a glimpse of a painting through one. The main part of the image was well-positioned within the frame with the edges billowing outward with a small strip of the painted canvas visible outside the frame, making the black void even more pronounced in between the saturation. Sometimes seeing a painting out of context brings something to mind that wasn't quite there yet...

I was reminded of two long-standing ideas, neither executed; one involved painting and showing the unkempt canvas borders that are usually stapled and tucked behind the finished canvas. The other modifying a frame to be married to the artwork. I've done these in minor ways, but never intended from the start. I realized I was presented with the perfect opportunity to try these out and could make it into series rather than a random one-off that would contrast with other paintings, positively or negatively, in whatever future show in which it might be included.

On top of that, I think it brings an interesting conversation to the viewing process. Like most art one will likely start with the image itself, but as they move around the painting they will find connections between the image on the canvas and those appearing on the frame; some continue seamlessly from surface to surface; some contrast in color almost like opposites; some marks call the frame to the forefront with titles or dates, almost reminding you of the physical frame and the boundaries of the artwork. The viewer then realizes the image continues beyond, extending onto loose canvas that hangs freely from the structure almost like notes or sketches; remnants, in a way, of the paintings creation. 

Follow along as I finish the final 3 or 4 paintings from the series and check back for plans on future showings. Check out the in-progress paintings at the links below and, as always, contact me with questions or inquiries. 

Virgil
Pollux
Circe
Daedalus
Babel

The differences between painting large and small scale are hard to overstate. From different brushes to different media, not to mention the literal physicality of walking around a studio to see a painting from multiple angles versus holding the entire thing in your lap, painting small scale doesn't replace large-scale, but it presents an opportunity for something a little different: Accessibility, both for the artist (me) and viewers.

While I love a good large painting, in a largely digital world things can get lost in translation. Looking at something on a computer screen that, in person, would dwarf you is, simply put, different. Think about the "spectacle-type" art that dominates social media: It's fun to look at photos but you really aren't going to "get it" without being there.

Small art bridges the gap A BIT. While nothing can replace the in-person experience, seeing art at actual size (or at least not 100x smaller) allows more viewers to experience to get an accurate feel of a painting. On top of that, smaller scale means lower price, literally making the art more accessible to a wider audience.  

On the artist side of things, it's a bit of a relief; Less setup, less clean up, less pressure, less time. I love painting large but there is a dedication required to do it. You need enough space and, depending on that space, you may need to adjust your habits, which ultimately effects how the work is made. If you're cramped, you're not comfortable. If you can lounge and complete an entire piece in one (or a couple) sittings, it's much easier to set things aside for a period or power through to reach the finish line. There always seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel, whereas a large painting can sometimes feel a bit monumental and overwhelming; hours or work and nothing yet to show.

There's nothing worse than getting done with a studio session and not liking where you are. With a small-scale painting, even if you're starting from scratch, its only 200 square inches versus 2,000. While my best art, IMO, is some of the larger scale paintings, it can take some stress to get there. Working small scale brings a different sense of enjoyment and freedom, sometimes the perfect cure for a busy life outside the studio.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same" - someone

An interesting recent development, entirely predictable of course, is a certain social media network showing me memories of decade-plus old art. I never really thought about it when I was in my 20's but at that point I really didn't have much if any art that was a decade old. I painted and drew in my teens and grade school but if it survived, it was nothing I'd really consider "good".

Now, every few days I'm reminded of a painting that I thought would get attention or start something big...they didn't...but luckily I still largely like them AND it gives me an opportunity to reflect on old trends in my art, current trends, and some similarities and differences a decade or more makes.

The painting on the left popped up this week as I was processing photos of the new painting on the right. While very different, it's interesting what tendencies have continued alongside some pretty drastic changes. I think the most obvious and important is the figure, or lack there of, in the previous work. There was a number of years I largely didn't paint people and if I did it was a very simplistic form. Not that my current figures are realistically rendered, but the human connection brings a great deal to a painting and has become a mainstay of recent work. 

Another difference is the focus on mark-making in a non-painterly way. While I still draw plenty, flowing paint is a constant in almost all artwork these days where the majority of paint used a decade ago was simply as a backdrop for oil pastels. I've dropped the oil pastels for a few reasons in favor of acrylic markers, but there is a textural and tactile quality lost from one to the other. 

While different, as called out above, similarity can be found in the symbols used and general mark-making. On the right side of the new painting you'll find almost the exact same "wave" shape as on the left. While a little less repetitive, these simple marks add energy and movement along with a child-like looseness that embodies my paintings. While the scene on the right is more refined, the overall activity and abundance of these marks has been a constant over the last decade-plus.

I regularly am asked why I paint in different styles and while I understand the question it also perplexes me to some degree. I see the differences, but I also see how they connect and transition, typically differing based on size and media more than intention. While I can obviously see differences between these two paintings, I also see how one followed in the steps of the other and could be considered a refinement of style rather than a complete departure.