Day One of My Favorite Decade

This is not really a list of goals, or resolutions, more like a broad outline, but I wanted to get something down on Day One of My Favorite Decade. To see how I fared last year, go here.

First on the list is my health. According to the Holmes Rahe stress scale, I'm skating on thin ice. For some reason, there's a two-year window on these events. Therefore—

I am grateful for my health, but I've been lucky. I was totally erratic with any sort of exercise routine this year. The YMCA is literally around the corner from me and I still couldn't drag myself over there with any sort of frequency. When the pool re-opens on January 4th, I will be there. My mom, bless her heart, thinks tossing the ball with her dog is exercise. I need to be diligent, lest one day I find myself rationalizing that walking from the studio to the espresso machine constitutes a cardio workout. It could happen.

I went to a yoga class yesterday, possibly my first in over a year. Goda Yoga in Culver City. I've been going there on and off since they opened. Being the new decade and all, I used my KCRW membership to get 15% off a package of 10 lunchtime classes. Yesterday's class was 1. 5 hours. It was heaven. Not coincidentally, the focus was on balance poses. Still not coincidentally, I was a little rusty with some of the seemingly simple balance poses. I need more balance and flexibility in my life. I'm committing to two classes a week in January along with a daily practice at home.

I have 4 canvases stretched and 3 paintings in various stages in the studio. One flower, two pool.

I continue to be engaged with the small-scale abstractions. Toward the end of 2009, I began working with new imagery that is extremely personal- the abandoned pools, and possibly flowers, though not so engaged with flowers yet, we'll see. I'm still using abstraction, but pushing it a bit more toward representation. I'm working with some of the same themes, (architecture, landscape, memory) but the melancholy factor is fairly high. The titling department went on strike last last year, but we negotiated a salary and I think we've found a number we call all live with. I anticipate re-titling the paintings that the scabs have titled, Untitled. (Slackers.) I have no idea what's in store for next year. Just when I start working with a limited palette and representational imagery, I become even more enamored with gestural abstraction. Wendy White, Kris Chatterson and Jered Sprecher are three artists whose work I'm currently digging.

At some point in time, the word creative got a bad rap and I tend to associate it with soccer moms who scrapbook, but nonetheless, I am thankful that I am creative. I have several ideas for new paintings, an installation, a book, and a large-scale project that can best be described as an enterprise. I would also like to write some essays. Never mind, I already do that. I would like to publish some essays. Never mind, I already do that. I would like to get paid to publish some essays. In addition, I will continue to experiment in the studio. As Churchill said, "Success is going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." He also said, "We are all worms, but I do believe I am a glow worm." I like that one too. Churchill, my man for 2010.

With regard to exhibitions, I've got a few shows lined up for 2010, and was recently asked to juror a National Watercolor Society exhibition next spring, but I'm already looking to line up shows for 2011 and beyond.

Which brings me to—

I'd like to exhibit the new works in a show outside of Los Angeles. I'm thinking an island somewhere on the east coast would be great, but other areas of the country would do nicely as well. The paintings are small. They're spectacular. They ship easily. I estimate an entire solo show could be shipped for under $30 anywhere in the USA. Email me. Let's talk. I'm still working on a succinct statement and titles for the new work that's not voyeuristic or uncomfortably personal, but something a little meatier than, "I like to paint," which I might add, is what it always boils down to. I mean seriously, I'm riding the motorcycle on the 405 today going about 80 mph and I'm thinking about brushstrokes. I shouldn't be thinking about brushstrokes at 80 mph. At 80 mph, I should be thinking I'm a ninja road warrior.

Here's hoping everyone has a healthy, prosperous, and productive New Year!

I love you 2010 and we just met.

It wasn't that bad.

Now that I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I'm kind of sad I didn't try and enjoy it more. It's a medium-large painting and seeing as I'm a painter, I really do enjoy waking up and going out to the studio to work on a painting that has a warm paycheck attached to it. My bank account appreciates it too.

Of course I still have the shipping and packing drama to look forward to. I so wish I had an assistant. You just don't know.

I am like a trained surgeon

It crushed me to leave a painting in such a disastrous state overnight in the studio, but since my studio time is broken up into mornings and evenings for now, I do what I do and have to let go abruptly in order to be at class or go to bed. Working through the night to fix a painting is not a solution; they need breathing time. So rather than putz around and take a coffee break etc. I simply wash up and hope that leaving them alone will allow me to get a fresh perspective. And it does. My role as Modern Prometheus, although questionable, has prepared me for these near death experiences and I'm happy to report I pulled another one back to life.

I'm tired. It's been a long day.

Art and artists and the people who love them.

My studio compound

Small works really don't photograph well from a distance, do they?
I wisely decided to open the garage door.
Me doing my usual introspective mental space out thing before I talk about the work. I've had this same expression since I was two years old. I zone out quite easily.

Lunch with Robbie Conal and some of my lovely hosts and hostesses. He doesn't live too far from me. I thought he was nice. He might do a studio visit with me.
This one remind me of Renoir's, "Boat Party Luncheon."

Charles Arnoldi's studio

Tony Berlant's studio

Part of my joy yesterday was reconnecting with that sense of comfort that comes through continuity and passion.

Um wow. Like today was stellar.

I had a fantastic studio visit with The Fellows of Contemporary Art today. I thought it was fantastic, but it's hard to judge how 25 people respond to your work. I only had 15 minutes to talk, but I was caffeinated and happy, so I think it went very well. They invited me for lunch- yum, and afterward I was invited to attend the other artist's studios.

My day was a total treat. So not only did I get to present my work, I had a chance to spend the afternoon listening and talking with people who are seriously passionate about art. As an added bonus, I had a chance to meet the other artists and visit a couple of their studios. I was a tad star-struck, and I'm really quite embarrassed by just how much, when I found out the other artists on the tour were Robbie Conal, Ed Moses, Charles Arnoldi, Stas Orlovski and Tony Berlant. I had a chance to meet Robbie, Charles and Tony. The day could not have been more perfect.

It was, though. I sold a work, and the good vibes reached all the way out to Highland Park, cause in a parallel universe, Kristi had someone inquire about a work as well.

After that, I went to check out the most excellent portrait show by Heather Cantrell at Kinkead Contemporary and signed up for a shoot either this Wednesday or next. Talked to some other folks I hadn't seen in awhile, confirmed the group show with Kinkead in July and decided to call it a night.

Today was definitely one of THE most inspiring days. I took pictures on the fly, but will post after I get them uploaded. I have to go to bed now though, so tomorrow.

Okay, it's all good, really it is.

Jeesh, I'm tired. More mental than physical, though I have been up & down on a ladder, drilling holes, planting plants, cleaning studio, placing lights and moving large rocks from one area of my yard to another. The outside version of rearranging the furniture. I also moved a dead log from one part of the yard to another, but had to move it back because I felt sorry for the 3rd generation of huge carpenter bees that have lived there for years and couldn't find their home after I moved it. One bee was still in the hole in the wood, but the other two kept trying to penetrate a sandbag near the original site.

The studio is about as clean as I feel comfortable making it. I eradicated everything on top of my studio work table in order to accommodate a coffee urn and some pasties PASTRIES for the Saturday morning visit. That's fine. I have to start from scratch every so often anyway.

I need to think some more about the works before I give my talk. There are still several influences and factors and tangents that I haven't had the time (inclination) to parse. It might be time I applied for an artist residency. Mmmm. Time. Unfettered. Sigh. Yes.

The day in pictures

Technically, I should have been working on a mission statement for some entrepreneurial ideas I have, but instead I continued to de-canvas the store-boughts and re-stretch them with linen.

Fang works hard at Quality Check.


This is my suburban boombox.

It worked quite nicely. I think I'm onto something.

Ball + Receptacle= Repeat.

Fang with Boa Constrictor Mouth.

One day I will bore of taking pictures of Fang sleeping, but not yet. He's about 12 years old.

Ta-da. Linen. hand-stretched and primed. I still have about 15 more to do. They are beautiful. I'm already angsting over the edges- to tape or not to tape? No, I won't tape... I don't think.

I had a great day exchanging studio visits

Right-O. It's a status update, cleverly disguised as a blog title.