Art collectors from St. Paul, Minnesota purchased the painting Vodka Martini. I know for a fact these art collectors enjoy martinis, as well as other wonderful concoctions. This painting is 36 inches by 36 inches on a gallery canvas.
Newfoundland had a profound effect on me, even though I was there only five days last year. But look, this place is way the heck out there, as far east as you can go in North America. Next stop is Greenland or Ireland, a short plane ride away. The place is beautiful and culturally unique, but many places are beautiful in this world.
What I keep remembering are the stories and photos of the "resettlement" that happened between the 1950s and 1970s. Entire communities, mostly fishing villages, were told by the Canadian government that they would no longer get much in the way of services or support. Hence, some families moved their most precious possession, their homes, to a place where there would be schools, police, clinics, etc. They pulled the houses across the ice or they waited till summer and floated the house on barrels, which was a chancy proposition with waves and seas.
Resettlement in Newfoundland, 36 X 48, gallery canvas.
I am trying something new here; I hope it works. My method is hit-or-miss, because in many ways this is an action painting and I paint very quickly. This painting is also posted on my website under Portraits.
Nude with Martini, 48 X 24, acrylics.
My son drew a picture of me just after his fourth birthday, back in 1993. I was impressed how much it looked like me. Those who have met me know my arms do grow out of the side my head. And I have a crazy looking mouth and pretty bad hair. Sometimes my legs detach and float next to my body.
I decided to do a self-portrait based on Zeb's depiction of me. Here it is:
I decided I had a boring bicycle immediately after I purchased it last year. It just looked boring. Dull. And it kind of had that geezer look about it, which is fine -- nothing against geezers -- but I don't want the geezer look at this time.
So I decided to change my bike into a thing I would like to look at and ride. In my studio, as I planned projects for painting, I began attaching wine corks to my bike. I had no end-point or vision; it was just open a bottle of wine, begin drinking, and glue the cork to the bike.
Friends gave me lots of corks and made my wine consumption easier. Hence, I did not have to become a complete wino, just a partial wino. After adding a few hundred corks, the bike looked interesting and different, but it was missing something. I could not put my finger on it. A couple weeks passed, then viola! I needed to add a cutting board and a wine bottle carrier. I finished it this past weekend and took it for its first ride today. This is what the bike looks like. I might change it or add something else if I think of another idea, but right now I'm fresh out of cork-ridden thoughts.
With a bottle of rose wine in the carrier (above).
Spokes completely covered in corks. May help to keep the bike unsinkable.
Wine bottle carrier. I used hardware cloth, wire, gorilla glue and canvas bag handles.
Buddha wants some sliced apple and funky cheese with his wine.
An art collector in Blaine, Minnesota purchased "The Blue Jacket". This painting is 20 X 20, on a gallery canvas. Acrylic paints. I did this painting in 2014.
An art collector in Norfolk, England, has purchased the painting "The Kid at the Interview." This is my first piece of art sold outside the United States. Below is an image of the painting.
"The Kid at the Interview," 20 X 20, acrylic, pumice texture.
I went to Eastern Michigan University and I was a literature major. So I had to take lots of English classes. This is a painting from memory of one of my profs. I can't remember his name, but from the looks of this painting, he probably had a jaundiced liver from drinking too much booze.
English Professor, acrylic on paper, 9X7 framed under glass.