Greetings to those who do the occasional read of this very occasional blog. I don't post very often because I try not to bloviate (not my term - blame Bill O'Reilly) about what I do and why I do it except on rare occasions that others just might find interesting.

Today I want to say a few words about the trip Maria and I took this month. It was a long time in the planning and went by far too quickly but the effect on me as an artist was profound and will linger for many years. If I am wise, what I experienced will continue to influence how I try to communicate with those who see my work.

We took a cruise on Windstar's sailing yacht 'Wind Surf' from Civitavecchia, Italy to Venice by way of Capri and Taormina (Messina) in Italy, Kotor in Montenegro, and several ports in Croatia - Dubrovnik, Split and Rovinj. As those who know me can appreciate, the primary draw for me was the idea of going to places I was interested in from a historical standpoint. But there was also the idea of visiting more exotic places of which I had only a vague knowledge. During this process and during our subsequent stays in Venice, Florence and Rome the trip satisfied my urge for hands-on history (Ancient to Baroque). But I also found through several specific experiences a more profound satisfaction of my needs as an artist. An almost unexpected transfusion for anemia of the spirit, if you will.

I won't bore you with a travelogue here except to say that Capri was mind-blowingly beautiful once one got away from the tourist traps and experienced the countryside. I hiked up to the very east end of the island on the ancient Roman road that led to what had once been the palace villa of Roman Emperor Tiberius. In addition to spectacular views over the Bay of Naples we saw very old homes with lush gardens, a herd of goats and met some friendly people. Lots of good reference material.

Montenegro and Croatia were eye-openers for their natural beauty and friendly people. Croatia is medieval and graced with churches containing the roots of the western European art tradition. In the entrance to the harbor of Kotor stands a man-made island holding the church of Our Lady of the Rock. It's small but inside it is graced by the most exquisite murals, wall and ceiling, done on canvas by an artist who was self-taught, working in oil on canvas in the early 1500's. His name is remembered by the locals today even though his life's body of work is confined to that one church, seen only in modern times by thousands of tourists who make the trek by boat out to the island. The quality of his work is (IMHO) equal to much of what I later saw in the basilicas and cathedrals of Italy. The lesson I took away from that little church was simply that one does one's best work regardless of concern for the future. Do it well now and the future will take care of itself.

From an artist's point of view, Venice was an eye-opener. I had been to Florence and Rome before but the sheer abundance of history tied to art in an eternal embrace resonated strongly in the city of canals. Venice was great before Rome dragged itself out of the Dark Ages and tore antiquity apart purely for the marble it held as building material. The Venetian churches were beautiful but my most impressive visit was to the Palace of the Doges with a small group, gaining access to areas not normally seen (or of interest to) the casual visitor. The marriage of art and politics via the use of painting, sculpture and architecture was very instructive to convey a single message of grandeur, stability and power. The historian in me saw this aspect but the artist in me saw how all the things we strive for - subject matter, composition, color, etc. were alive six centuries and more ago. Things we struggle with today gave Titian, Tiepolo and others the same concerns we encounter every day in our own work. In contrast to the artist from Kotor, the artists who decorated the Palace of the Doges in Venice knew full well the historical context of their work - that as long as Venice stood so would their work. But, I had the feeling and still do that the man from Kotor poured his heart and soul into his work for Our Lady of the Rock every bit as zealously as Titian did for his Doge. Maybe even more so. 

Finally I would like to tell of a visit to a place that had a profound impact on me as an artist. On my last morning in Florence I trekked across the city to visit the church of Santa Croce to pay my respects to a man whose art and life had been my inspiration since, as a boy, I read his fictionalized life story in "The Agony and the Ecstasy" by Irving Stone. Michelangelo Buonarroti rests in an impressive monument inside the nave of Sante Croce. The tomb was designed by Georgio Vasari to house the remains of a man he admired but who, by all accounts would have preferred to remain buried in Rome where he died. Nevertheless, Cosimo di Medici had the famous Florentine returned to his home town and interred with many other eminent Florentines in this church. He rests across the nave from Galileo - fitting, since the latter did for science what Michelangelo did for art. I had re-visited 'David' a couple of days before (my first visit was in 2003) and again admired the unfinished statues in the Academy. One could see the technique and even the drill holes and tool marks Michelangelo left behind. But the emotional impact of 'David' was not as intimate as being close to the resting place of the genius that had created him. It was a humbling experience and I think we artists need that occasional brush with humility so our work can stay genuine and sincere to our own purpose, whatever each of us may believe it to be.

Sorry to catch your attention that way but all is well with the CPSA and its upcoming wonderful Convention in Brea, California in August.

I just wanted to post that one of my submissions this year was accepted into the juried International show and I'm jazzed like I'd had a 4 shot Starbuck's espresso. This is my 5th acceptance in 6 attempts so that makes me even more "up" about it - another espresso please! BTW - I just returned from a wonderful time in Europe where I gained a new appreciation for Italian coffee done well - more about that in my next post.

The piece is called "Disagreement" and is done in colored pencil (of course) on a 12 x 24" piece of Ampersand Gessobord, finished with UV Acrylic spray coating and exhibited without glass. Very little solvent was used on this one but a lot of burnishing with polished birch knitting needle points of varioius diameters.

The idea came out of one of the many reference pictures I take wherever I go. This one happened to be at a friend's lakeside home on Lake Sasheen, near Spokane. His neighbor's dock held a couple of Adirondack chairs and the lighting of the low angle afternoon sun on a hot August day caught my eye because of the interesting shapes of the shadows cast on the decking. Here's the original reference shot. I played around with it for a while trying to make something interesting out of it - I'd seen a lot of seaside deck chair paintings shown to the tourists here on Whidbey Island and I just couldn't bring myself to join the ranks - something had to be different.

I usually search my reference material for the special something that helps me introduce a "WHY?" into the work - an open door, a bit of mystery perhaps. This thought process started here with the alignment of the chairs. Ordinarily, I reasoned, on a warm Summer evening when one sits with one's dearest sipping wine and admiring the stars the chairs should be side by side facing out toward the water. Oddly these were not. Why? Just a casual rearrangement? Maybe. But also it's possible the last two occupants were not too keen on communicating with each other. A disagreement perhaps? Too dramatic? But after all it's ART not really life.

OK - so how could I further reinforce the idea of disagreement? First off the composition needed to be long and narrow - not the more comfortable standard 18 x 24" rectangle I usually favor. Then - that chair color. I felt by getting rid of the dull, red-brown color of the chairs I could introduce some color disagreement - tension. The water reflections were predominantly blue so that suggested using the remaining two primary colors - red and yellow. Tension first then harmony when the greens go into the water, the oranges go into the reflected light and the violet blue goes into the shadows. To solve difficulties translating the effect of backlight and copious reflected light into the new colors I fell back on what James Gurney had to teach in his book "Color and Light". Even then there were many rounds of doing, seeing and re-doing before I felt satisfied enough to call it done. Even now after some months of looking at it I can see things that I want to change - but as a mentor of mine once told me, every artist is capable of creating and then ruining a good piece by going back and niggling the end. Know when to quit, sign it - and move on to the next idea.

Sound advice.