The Sound Of Surf

The Sound Of Surf 40x66x1.5 acrylic on canvas

Art is mystery, and so is the sea. That’s how I see it, feel it. When I look at the ocean waves there is a fear, an awe inspiring type fear; I know the depths and power of the wave, that it could swallow me up without thought or care and I vanish forever. And there is art. My art specifically. It is a mystery no matter how long I’ve been doing it. What comes out onto canvas is much more than the sum of it’s parts–it is as profound as a wave is powerful.

I paint the water because it is the great mystery. It is the monster that haunts my mind and I tame it, at least there, when I paint it on canvas. I feel the power in each movement of the brush. The strokes are as if blown by the wind itself. That’s what it takes to paint convincingly–you must feel it. Command of the elements of art are only the beginning of being an artist. Depth of feeling is the unteachable thing. It comes as an ache in my muscles that guide my brush, and fulfill my motive.

You can’t think about how to feel. You just feel it. I think about the elements sometimes–this shape, this value or color, relationships in the composition–but I don’t think about how to feel. I react to my feeling.

Painting water is the closest thing I can think of to painting God, more so than any other motif. That is the goal isn’t it, with art, to find ultimate meaning and purpose.

Shadow Of The Bear

“But there is something here that transcends the everyday, transcends familiarity and size, something satisfying to the soul. It’s the seemingly simple things in life that give us the deepest satisfaction…I know it made me feel safe and comfortable–it was like I left all my cares in the car and stood before the shadow in perfect calm” […]

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Evening In The Sky

Evening In The Sky 36x36x1.5 acrylic on canvas

I know what Manet meant by not being able to emulate nature on canvas, that the best the artist can do is present his own, “naïve” impression.

This sky was so magnificent, there was so much shimmer and reflection and the colors harmonized so perfectly, that it left me in a wonderful state of awe. I just stood there and looked and marveled. I felt close to the beginning of time somehow, I’m not sure how else to explain it. To explain it, the way it made me feel, would have to come out as gibberish, because words–rational sentences–no matter how poetically laced, could never come close.

So I’ve tried to recreate this feeling. I think it’s best to do that than try to reproduce the actual. Magnificence has to be found, by the artist, in the way his materials are exaggerated. I can never think I can put nature on my canvas, only my feeble impression. I try to show what I feel and this becomes a painting.