Sadly, the Lusty Lady closed in June. Right after it closed I was walking past and noticed this sweet memorial. This is a photo I meant to post but had forgotten about it until going thru my photos this week.

This morning I was up early, threw on closed, quickly scanned email and then headed to the studio to paint, picking up coffee and breakfast on the way. From there it was grocery shopping and back home to unclog a drain. I'll head back to the studio later this afternoon. The new series is coming along and I'm pretty excited about it.

This is Maple, another dog that comes by once or twice a week. She grew up in a puppy mill and then adopted by a coworker. She loves her patch of sun...and her sheep.

Doesn't that look like the best place to nap?

Because I've wanted something more professional than gagnon art I began creating an actual website for the artwork a few days ago. It's an interesting process made more so by the fact that I'm teaching myself as I go. It's going to take some time.

I will have a page for my photographs as well as the drawings and paintings.

While going through old work, sorting and categorizing, it was helpful to see the bulk of work that I've done in the last four years. I had forgotten about most of it...such as a series of small sketches, like this one.

Today has been a wasted day because although I was exhausted when I went to bed last night, my mind turned on as I shut off the light. A major bout of insomnia. It was easier to take the day off today instead of try to work a database and make massive errors. So after a morning appointment I've sat at home and simply vegged.

art thoughts, written yesterday...

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As I wrote to a friend yesterday, in the studio I'm a little obsessed with painting the same image over and over, trying to get a handle on it. Although excited about the new subject matter and it's immense possibilities, I am still very tentative with my handling of the paint.

It's a continual flip flop from "wow, did I just do that? Very cool!" to "ugh, it's boring." There's a lack of boldness and so it feels commercial. When I speak of commercial in regards to my own work, I mean that it is something that pleases the masses while being aware that I am not being entirely authentic. It's created by a fear of what I have to say, knowing most of my viewpoints place me in an unpopular position because it's an uncomfortable one.

I am NOT defining commercial for someone else's work. Your mileage may vary.

My history is one where when I speak my truth, the majority of those closest to me freak out and run. Put up walls. Slam doors. This is what I'm working to break through and I've seen how it affects my courageousness or lack thereof with the paint.

For most of my life I've felt like the little kid in the corner afraid to open his mouth because each time he did, he'd get slapped (figuratively).

So I decided that if I work the same image over and over and over and over again, maybe it will help me break through what I'm afraid to share.


Ha...I took a break from writing this entry to go read my astrology.
It said:

I get the idea that you are struggling to change your mind about something large and overwhelming, and yet also very personal. I don’t know what it is, and it could be a meta-theme that affects numerous aspects of your existence. But I can give some general lines of approach to the process. Using astrology itself as a metaphor, consider that this craft involves exploring existence through most technical analysis of data alternately with, or simultaneously with, surrendering to the most etheric influences of soul and cosmos.

Composing music or creating art works the same way; full expression is achieved through what is at once mystical and highly disciplined. In the coming two months, I suggest honoring art as a divine process. Listen to music as if it was a direct expression of religious wisdom; consider lyrics over and over again, as a rabbi would read the Torah; view visual art with awe and wonder and as a direct window to the universe. If you practice daily, it will help — help, that is, to move your soul to the act of creation itself. And only this will save you.


Wow...that is some serious, no frills confirmation.


And from a few days ago:

What you see is what you get. That’s your motto and it’s quite a theme for you this summer. Yes people love to lay on the images illusions, glamour and glam. You have to be you and now you have the strength the awareness and most of all the desire. You know you don’t do anyone any favors by pretending you’re someone you’re not. But you may not win any popularity contests either because when any one person gets real that shocks other people either into promptly doing so or freaking out because they’re hiding who they are. But none of that needs to matter.

It has been my biggest lifelong lesson and one that is playing a starring role in my life this summer.

It was a warm night, but being on the second floor near the window allowed us to feel a cool breeze, creating a refreshing evening.

I haven't posted a painting in a while...so here we go.

It is not part of the new series. This painting is a fast little (12"x12") study that I did one afternoon when I was burnt out on the bottles and just needed to paint from observation. I painted it almost 2 months ago and finally took a shot of it today, while I was documenting other work.

Busy day...

After some productive studio time where I may have finished a painting in the new series, and began another, we hit a friend's opening last night in Ballard. From there we planned on playing in the water. It was about 94 degrees and quite warm. One blessing was the lack of humidity that is prevalent on the east coast. But, for those of us who are comfortable with 75 degree summers, it felt hot.

The water was the place to be. Everyone else had the same idea because we couldn't find a parking spot at Golden Gardens on the Sound. At 7 pm, there was a long line of cars seeking spots. So instead we headed to the Locks to check out the boats coming in and out.

These two photos were taken at a marina before heading over to the art opening.

Another from the Locks...

At the locks...

It was a lovely day in the studio.
Waiting for the bus was also pleasant.

Cal Anderson park was brimming with people and art during last night's art walk. The weather couldn't have been more perfect...and the company delightful.


I could use brushes this size in the studio...




Sometimes an accidental butt is a good thing...




I think someone made a wrong turn...

While heading to the studio on Tuesday evening to drop off the paintings and enjoying the rare opportunity to be the passenger, I pulled out my camera and whipped off about fifty shots while we were driving.

This is one of those shots.

It's one of those times where my heart really craves lots of studio time without the commitment of my day job which I do enjoy. I'm at the point where I am hungry for a month long residency...to shut myself away in the studio and work with very little socializing and no distractions.

The last few days in the studio I've been working with oils instead of charcoal. Before art walk, I applied workable fixative to the drawings so I could go back into them. It feels as if my favorite charcoals have changed in the last 15 years. They are softer and don't adhere to the paper in the same fashion. Hopefully by working layers with fixative in between will help.

The paintings are slowly coming along. There are three in progress, and one complete piece. Last night's session was very exciting.

The next four days are filled with studio work, Capitol Hill art walk, checking out M's show this evening, J's show on Saturday in Ballard and another J who has a show opening on Sunday in Greenwood and then head over to a birthday party.

It's a full four days.

Don't you just love those moments when you are in the right place at the right time and your camera is out and you take that one shot?

That's what I love about this one. It's another poster wall shot. Today and yesterday's poster wall photos happened about a month ago on different days. I've been too busy to sort through most of my photos at the time and am slowly doing it now.

Also, this is a wee bit of killing time before I finish my day and head over to the studio to paint. I cannot wait to get in there and work on the new stuff. Today has felt interminable.

Seaweed between my toes...


While in West Seattle after taking down my show paintings, we wandered Alki Beach. It was a perfect summer day, sitting on rocks, rolled up jeans and letting the waves rush up to my feet.

And then the tide came up and wet my bum.

There is room for six cars to parks on the street directly in front of my building.

Last night I saw Florida plates. Smiling, and a little jealous because I love long road trips, I looked down the line and saw a car with Nevada plates and another with Connecticut plates. Three from far away.

I imagined the driver of each car and what their trip was like. I wondered if they were moving here or were just visiting. Were they on business...a student getting ready for UW in the fall or summer fun?

An hour later I noticed the Connecticut and Nevada cars were gone, and in its place was a car with Hawaii plates.

I still love the license plate game.


This photograph is of my favorite poster wall, an ever-evolving piece of public art.

Life is strange.

It's quite uncomfortable and at the same time, exciting in other areas. There's been much risk-taking in the last 6 months which has opened up some new doors and shown me how other areas are closed tight. I've been trying to honor the grief by mourning closed-off areas while not allow it to paralyze me too much and continue to move forward.

Last week in the studio I began a new series.

For a few months now, I've hit a really black place with my work. Although it's a mindset I haven't touched in almost twenty years, it's the place that before then, each time I encountered it, I'd put away my paints.

From the time I was a child until about 1994, the hunger to paint would be felt and I would do so. After a while, I'd always become wracked in debilitating doubts and would stop for a few years until I'd wake hungry and have to paint again. My formal art training happened in fits and waves….enrolling and quitting a year later….to then return to it. Such was my life. In '94, I woke up and knew I needed to push myself…therefore spending the next three years completing the degree program.

Back east, I had an extra room which became my studio and painted all the time. Once I arrived in Seattle, I didn't paint as often as I desired due to lack of space, but would take vacation time to paint. After my sabbatical in early 2006, through much hard work with my therapist, I began working with a new drive. Committed to creating a practice, it was exciting and frustrating and scary and sexy and powerful and vulnerable.

I came to learn that after a productive spell, there would be a slight drought. With time, I learned that it was a resting place. No great ideas...but I'd go in and work. Move my hand. There were also doubts and it was scary but manageable. Within three to four weeks inspiration would return and I'd paint. It was another season in my garden.

At the beginning of June, I sensed the dry time return. But this time, it was different - familiar and old. Ancient black clouds loomed low over the horizon threatening to consume me. My thoughts screamed I was a farce. I really can't do this. I'm fooling people. A fucking goddammed imposter. Who did I think I was…daring to have a studio…daring to make a mark and call it art…daring to think that I had anything worthwhile to say?

In early July, I came very close to giving up my studio space and quitting, as I used to do when I was younger.

What was unique this time was that I recognized the black. Remembering the words of my former leather Mentor, I became the observer. He used to say that while feeling big feelings, also pretend I was the scientist and observe them. They are valid and need to be gone through but try to keep a part of my mind clear. With his words in my head, I imagined myself wearing a labcoat and holding a clipboard. In a Sigmund tone of voice I said "hmmm, isn't it interesting..." With that little bit of detachment the next thought was "isn't it interesting that as I am getting closer to tapping into a surer painting language these ugly doubts are making themselves known...screaming at me to quit."

In that, I knew perseverance was needed. Move forward.

With the sage advice of another artist, I took an intentional three weeks off from the studio. In the past, if I didn't go in it was because I'd be away, or work was busy, or I'd be sick, or something. And there would be a fair amount of guilt and many "shoulds". This time, I committed to no studio with no guilt. When relaying that to another artist I admire here in town, whose critiques I value, he smiled and said "that's a bold move." A little pride swelled in me at hearing his words.

The weekend before flying to NYC, I woke with a new direction for the work. Last week I began. This time, I don't plan on showing work in progress. That may change as I get further along, but right now, I'm keeping it private. Even at art walk, I made sure to put away the drawings.

These black doubts have yet to go away even though I've begun the new work. Each time I step into the studio I'm still filled with despair but am stubbornly trusting it is only fear that is trying to trip me up. So I keep on keepin' on.

I shot this image of a tidal marsh in Kittery in April and it's been sitting on my desktop since then. I used to live near such a landscape and hope to return soon.

Tidal marshes are glorious places. Each season brings a dramatic, although at times may seem subtle, beauty.

Pike Market...

Remnants...

A cool, misty afternoon was made even a little nicer by sharing a dish of clams and mussels in a light spicy broth of tomato, garlic and herbs and a hearty glass of Montepulciano.

I found North last night, around the corner from my home.

There is a fair amount of sidewalk chalk play in my neighborhood and it always comes with a smile, but this piece carried some added respect. The calligraphy is lovely. And attentive.

It then reminded me of the care that someone took with long piece I discovered and documented in the fall of 2006.

Met a friend and his out of town guest at Vermillion, the gallery/bar, for drinks before we did dinner. It also gave me the opportunity to pick up some art I purchased from the exhibit they had last month.

It was a very enjoyable evening with a few lightbulb moments. Lightbulb moments are special times. For me, there is something reassuring in receiving an insight that shifts a paradigm. I always cherish finding instances which change my thinking...and don't feel forced.

This friend is a new friend. We have many mutual connections and hooked up a couple months ago.

Most of the day was spent recuperating from last night's art walk. There were lots of people and many good moments. I sold four pieces which means I now actually have money between now and payday. And I will say I'm a big supporter of barter.

Tonight's little get together was a nice little detour in a day of rest.

The view from my windshield before heading home from another wonderful and bustling art walk. It's the back of my building.

Now in my hood...3000 miles away from today's previous photos. It was taken across the street from my studio.

Still from NYC, the stark contrast of light and shadow is what drew me to shoot in b&w after I had my fill of color.

I'm winding up the NYC photos...

one more of Sarah at Zinc Bar.

Seeing I'm in a color frame of mind today, as well as it being a procrastination morning before I dive into some intense reports, here is Planet Java Diner in Pioneer Square...near my studio.

We all explored Little Italy on my last day in NYC. It was our first time on Mulberry Street. I began by shooting in color and it took a bit of resolve to switch my camera to black and white.

Mulberry Street is Disneyland for my eyes.

Tomorrow is First Thursday Art Walk.

I am filling the walls with paintings that have been in my storage loft. It's a good opportunity to purchase inexpensive art.

6-9 pm
619 Western Ave
4th floor south
The Sophia Room

An interesting day...

Today was a twelve hour work day that ended with a few wonderful relaxing hours with my best friend.

Sushi is one of life's delights.

I had about $25 to get me through 2 weeks, having spent too much money on my vacation. About 10 hours ago, out of the blue, I received a surprise check for a partial payment on a painting. It helps me breathe a wee bit.

In the midst of my work day, I managed to grab an hour to do an art thing and brought paintings to a gallery. It's part of my personal commitment to do one scary thing with my art each month. I figure if I never grab my guts and go for it, nothing will happen.

Bedtime will be early tonight.

More NYC...

This morning offered the delicious smell of coastal salt air. It's a somewhat common scent down near my studio, but much rarer on the hill. Being surrounded by salt air as I left the house transported me back to the Maine coast. It's a nice way to begin a work week.

To add to that theme, a few hours later a very dear friend emailed me a link to a business that will overnight lobster salad and whoopie pies from Maine. We are going to make this happen.

My mom used to make the best whoopie pies.

Part of my studio project this week is to organize my storage loft and sift through old paintings and drawings.

Part of my day job this week is to organize my desk and work load for the next few weeks.

My Pez yellow duckie just fell over as I was typing.

I'm excited because the week before Labor Day is now penciled in as a full studio/painting week.

Massive wildfires in British Columbia transformed our sunny sky yesterday afternoon to a delightful and eerie orange light. Later that evening the setting sun became an intense vermillion ball.

I'm very tired today.

Is it time to go home yet?

Another from NYC...

Another from NYC...

Little diner next to my studio.

A few months ago I had tentatively planned to take 3 weeks of my sabbatical in August. Due to work, plans needed to change. It was fine.

Since mid-June, I've been in a strange and very uncomfortable place with the art which was the impetus for the break. This week I returned to the studio, committed to breaking thru the discomfort which means time in the studio to sit with it, work with it and move through it. This morning I woke with an ache in my heart because there currently isn't a massive chunk of time to glue myself to studio work.