Many, many thanks to everyone who came out to the Gallery Talk at the Principle Gallery on Saturday. While I wasn’t as sharp as I would have liked, everything (including the giveaways at the talk’s end!) went off really well and it was great to speak with so many folks that I only get to see once in a great while.
I don’t know if I can really ever fully explain how important these talks have been for me. It’s not only for the wonderful feedback I receive about the work which helps me see the paintings in the way others do but in the way it allows me to express my gratitude for the life that their appreciation of my work has given me. These talks allow me to see how fortunate I was to have fallen into this life.
So, a deep thank you to everyone there, including my good friends at the Principle Gallery– Michele, Clint, Pam, Haley and Pierre— who allow me to feel at home in their space with their warm friendship. You have all given me more than you will ever know, more than I can ever repay in gifts or words.
Since I was out of the studio yesterday and missed my Sunday morning music, I thought I’d fill that void today with a selection that gallery director Clint reminded me of this past week in a posting on Facebook where he played this song and invited his friend to identify it. It’s a song from guitarist Bill Frisell , called Ghost Town/ Poem For Eva. I couldn’t identify the song at first without a clue from Clint even though I knew that I knew the song. I have used music from this particular Bill Frisell album in an earlier video of my Outlaw series.
So, give a listen and have a good week…

I’m sitting in my studio looking at an empty canvas. Not too long ago it was not empty. No, I spent the better part of the afternoon yesterday working on this canvas, a 36″ square that was prepped beforehand with gesso and a first layer of black paint. Several hours spent and not a minute of it felt smooth or in rhythm. The paint didn’t come off the brush in the way that I expected or desired. The composition seemed to just go nowhere ,leaving bland and lifeless bits of nothing littered all over the canvas. I never felt a flow, which is that quality I have described before where one mark leads to the next as though you are reading the lines and strokes on the canvas like they were revelatory tea leaves.
I have a square cardboard box in one of the rooms of my studio. It’s not much to look at it and it certainly doesn’t have any significance attached to its exterior appearance. But for me it’s a treasure chest, my secret bounty. You see, this rather plain box holds hundreds of small pieces from my earliest forays in paint from twenty some years ago.
August has been vanquished, mercifully.
Time for some Sunday morning music and the gray skies here today along with everything else that is going on call for something a bit slower and quiet in tone. I thought I would feature the piano of the great Bill Evans (1929-1980) and the song My Foolish Heart.
I have been busy with some personal matters but definitely wanted to get in my Sunday morning music. Whatever else is going on, it seems there is always room for a little music.
Just came across a really nice video that was filmed in late June. It was part of the
First, too many thanks to send out to everyone who made yesterday’s talk at the West End Gallery such a fun event. That may well be one of the most enjoyable talks I’ve participated out of the many that I’ve done. What a wonderful and engaged group of folks! They were so welcoming and warm that it made me feel very comfortable and free to tell my little stories. I had a good time and I hope they did as well.