"Fabulous 5"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

Although my idea of having a few "black and tans" normally takes place at my local Irish pub, this motley crew also put a smile on my face. The image was sent to me recently by Anne Stark, breeder of champion dachshunds and whippets. She seemed to think I could have fun with this and she was right. Her pups can be seen on her website "Piper's puppies4u."
Thanks for the amusing reference, Anne.

You may ask why the blue eyes? The original reference of these pups was most assuredly made with a flash which reflected back as blue. I toyed with the idea of making the retinas black but I liked the cobalt accents dancing around the panel. I think it livens up the painting.

"Paris Carousel"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8 1/4" x 10 7/8"

I've been picking at this painting for a couple of days, not quite sure of how I wanted to play this. The subject is so colorful that I had intended to splash on the paint loose and free but my realist roots kept the piece in check. I think I'll sleep on it and see if I need to throw on some more highlights in the morning.

JJ - "bunny pose"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

It has always been hard for me to get back into the paint after a hiatus of a week or more. All those self doubts rear their ugly heads and I stand before the blank canvas wondering if I can still make the magic happen. JJ, my constant companion in the studio, has once again been my inspiration and my familiar back to the muse. I'll never understand the mystery of the creative spirit. Ours is not to reason why.

"Recharging my creative batteries"

I am heading out on my annual pilgrimage to Lake George, New York for the Americade rally. As some of you know, my other passion is motorcycling and I look forward to this event like a little kid anticipates Christmas. Billed as the largest touring rally in the United States, it has much to ofter - great roads, old friends, demo rides from almost every manufacturer and the largest collection of touring rider vendors assembled in one place called the tour expo. If you ride and have not gone to Americade you are missing a good time. It doesn't get any better than riding through the Adirondacks and the Finger Lakes. I will be gone for a week so there will be no new paintings posted for a while. I am having some doubts about the intense red of yesterdays painting and may tone it down with a glaze when I return. Let me know it you concur with this observation.

"German Shepherd"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

More on this painting tomorrow.

"Mac"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

I thought I was the only one still looking like Manard G. Krebs these days, that is until I saw my friend Stephanie's tiny toy poodle, Mac, wearing his ever so beat, black turtleneck sweater. Poodle cut? No way! This dog is one cool cat! I'm certain he has a black beret stashed in his kennel somewhere.

"Sisters"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

Meet the new kids on the block. You may recall my dear Anna was called home back in March. This opened the door, literally and figuratively to bringing the feral kittens that we had been looking after since last summer into the house. Anna was too set in her ways to tolerate three new kittens into her world. She had stoically declined JJ's constant invitations to play. This would have been too much. I must say that I, too, was not prepared for 24/7 living with feral cats in the house. At first it was like having live squirrels inside. They would run and hide if you made a sharp noise, had shoes on your feet or made a sudden move. I am happy to report that we are going to need a bigger bed as Ella and her brother, Sammy, have discovered the joys of the electric blanket and the comfort of snuggling with humans (a.k.a. the big pink monsters). I don't have the heart to tell them the season is changing and they will have to wait until November to feel its warmth again. While they were still living outside we put a litter box out for them and they all caught onto it right away, so all is well in that department, although policing 4 boxes does take more time. Shirley is still very much afraid of everyone and everything - except JJ. She is in heat right now and we are very careful to not let her escape. She seems to think JJ can help her out, but he is not up to the task, if you catch my drift, nor is her brother Sammy. From this painting one would think that Ella, formerly known as Dino before her femininity became apparent, was a bruiser. She is actually quite demure. Her slender body and tiny stature are almost ferret-like. She can squeeze into the tiniest spot and gets into more trouble than the Beav on an outing with his friend Whitey. Ella is her nickname, by the way. Her full name is "Elegy to the Spanish Republic Number 57" because she looks so much like that Robert Motherwell painting. I hope to paint her brother, Sammy, very soon. Stay tuned.

"Oyster Plate"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

"The world was my oyster but I used the wrong fork" - Oscar Wilde

"Holly and Jonahven"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 8"

I'm sure by now everyone has given up on me, but for those still checking in, I assure you I am fine and still creating art. I have been working on a commission that ate up a bunch of time, then I left for the West coast to visit my daughter, granddaughters Sonny and Willow and my new grandson - Jonahven Infinity. They live in Ashland, Oregon, the epicenter of hippydom on Earth. The town is an exciting amalgam of art, theatre, music and strange interesting characters. It's a pity that it is so difficult to get to, as I would love to be able to visit more often, not only to see my daughter and grandchildren but to experience the Shakespeare Festival that it is home to. Every year 600,000 people make a trek to this quirky little town to see some of the Bard's plays performed on an outdoor Elizabethan Stage patterned after the Globe Theatre. As it is, one must fly into Salt Lake City and catch a puddle jumper to Medford or fly into Portland and drive five hours. Ugh.

The first Wednesday of the month the Daily painters group that I belong to has a theme challenge. This month it was "Celebrating Mom" in honor of Mother's Day. The work was supposed to be posted yesterday but I had other fish to fry so here it is, better late than never. My granddaughters attend the "Willow Wind" school which had a May Day celebration complete with May pole and floral wreathes. Quite apropos, given the populace. This is a painting of my daughter Holly and with her new little boy. Perhaps I've seen the Lord of the Rings too many times as there is an elfish quality about them, which is rather fitting, seeing as Holly's middle name is Lórien. Oops, my early hippy roots are showing.

"Blue"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel - 8" x 10"

As you can see, I am going through a brindle phase right now. Blue here, belongs to my landscape designer. He brought him over today to model for me. Sporting the typically gorgeous Australian Shepherd coat, his eyes are particularly unusual, in a Marilyn Manson sort of way. One is half brown and half blue, the other pure ice blue. He is also a sweetheart (except to groundhogs, I've been told). His coquettish sidelong glance is endearing.

"Bigger Big"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

Mr Big belongs to my friends Debby and Fran. I painted him last year as a lark, to see if I could portray his great stature on a small 6" square panel. Although I was happy with that painting, I really wanted a bit more space to capture his wonderful brindle coat. On a recent visit Mr. Big acquiesced to another model session. He is a bit grayer in the muzzle but is still a magnificent beast.

BTW - I didn't say which Wednesday, did I?

Out of the Studio

I'm headed down to New Orleans for a few days. Look for new work on Wednesday.

Laissez les bons temps rouler!

"Out of the Box"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 6"

Perhaps I should have called this "Out of the sand box" The name is derived from the monthly Daily painters challenge - Out of the box, meaning paint a subject or in a style or medium that you are not familiar with. Anyone who knows me well can tell you that I loath boats and I am not altogether thrilled with going to the beach either. That alone would fit the criteria for the challenge. Blue paint would be another element with which I am ill at ease. My early years as an artist, as I may have stated before on these pages, were spent immersed in the study of the Dutch masters. I may have used the tiniest bit of ultramarine blue to cool down the shadows, but that was it. No cerulean, no cobalt, no Prussian inhabited in my palette. I hesitated to put this painting on the blog but what the hell. It actually has more going on texturally speaking, than one can see from this photo. Suffice it to say that I have new respect for the seascape painters out there.

"Rufus in the garden"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 6"

As an artist, I am frequently (very frequently) asked to donate work to various charities. I wish that I could accommodate every worthy cause that asked for a painting but sadly, more often than not, I must decline. I recently took our two feral females to be neutered at the Baltimore County Humane Society's Spay and Neuter Clinic. The young receptionist saw my blog, loved the work and asked if I would donate something to her fund raiser. She must have caught me at a weak moment and I acquiesced. Rufus here is her Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Of course now she has to decide to donate a portrait of her dog to the cause. Tee hee.

"Roscoe"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 6"

I don't always have a back story when reinterpreting someone else's reference. I just really liked this guy's Walter Matthau impression. I was surprised to discover that Roscoe was a Maine Coon, given up for adoption at 6 months of age due to the fact that he didn't have the classic long thick coat. I've been told he does however have all the other typical traits of a Maine Coon, from being a one person cat to "chirping." His "Grumpy Old Man" look has been Roscoe's look all his life. This cat was born an old man. Roscoe is also well traveled, having lived abroad for a couple of years. He is 13 now and Diabetic.

"Blessed are the cheese makers"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

The cheese portrayed in this painting is a small sampling of the selection presented to us in Paris at Restaurant Guy Savoy. To try and describe the culinary experience of that night in mere words on these pages would be futile. Suffice it to say that it was the most amazing, decadent (and expensive) meal I have ever had.

"Anna" - R.I.P.

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel - 6" x 8"

I suppose you've been wondering what happened to me. Had my muse run off to Monaco to play baccarat? Had I shuffled off this artists life and joined a monastery? Not quite. Sadly, I had been nursing my dear Anna who was battling two powerful foes - cancer and old age. She finally succumbed to their one-two punch yesterday and I had to intercede on her behalf. Not the way I would have chosen to celebrate St. Patrick's Day I assure you. This kind of intervention is not conducive to the creative process. Perhaps if I were a watercolor painter my work would have taken on a Grace Hartigan quality. Salty tears make for some interesting effects while working in a wet medium. I was able to steel myself to paint a commemorative portrait today. God speed, Anna. I hope you are frolicking with Vincent, Theo, Marco and your mom. At least you are no longer in pain. I wish I could say the same.

"Art Nouveau Harley-Davidson"

Oil on Canvas 27 1/2" x 42"

This piece has been knocking around the studio for quite a while. Intrigued by Alphonse Mucha's use of heavy delineation to flatten the figure, I decided to see if I could update it with the help of my Ultra Classic Harley-Davidson and my model Stephanie. The painting was quite a departure for a staunch realist like me. It is certainly unique. That 1997 wine berry and charcoal paint scheme on the bike was a knockout. I learned, too, that I am way too lazy to own a bike with white walled tires.

"Chloe"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

What is it about Jack Russells that make them so endearing? Who among us has not been amused at Eddie's antics on the TV show Fraser? An interesting factoid: the dog who portrayed Eddie was named "Moose", an odd name for a little terrier. The few Jacks that I have crossed paths with have been a bit on the nervous side and would shake uncontrollably if I so much as looked at them funny. Yet they all, without exception, had sweet dispositions and although they looked rather fragile, were tough as nails. This old gal belongs to my friends Tom and Dave.

"Lochi"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

This little guy is named Lochi or is it Lockie? It is short for "Low Key."
How he would spell it is anyone's guess:

The naming of cats is a difficult matter
It isn't just one of your holiday games
You may think at first I'm mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have three different names

First of all, there's the name that the family use daily
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey
All of them are sensible, everyday names

But I tell you a cat needs a name that's particular
A name that's peculiar and more dignified
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular?
Or spread out his whiskers or cherish his pride?

Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo or Coricopat
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum
Names that never belong to more than one cat

But above and beyond there's still one name left over
And that is the name that you will never guess
The name that no human research can discover
But the cat himself knows and will never confess

When you notice a cat in profound meditation
The reason, I tell you, is always the same
His mind is engaged in rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name

His ineffable, effable, effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular name
Name, name, name, name, name, name

T.S. Elliott

"Vodka Martini with Three Olives"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

Scotch whiskey and I are old friends. We go back years and years and I still like a wee dram in the evening, after I have put the brushes down, of course, and am reflecting on the day. The peatier the better. I could easily retire to Islay and drink Laphroaig when I'm near the end. Lately however, I have embraced the dirty, spicy vodka martini as my drink of choice. Last year dear friends of mine gave me a bottle of home infused pepper vodka. They are master gardeners and pepper heads and grow some very interesting and uncommon varieties of hot peppers like "Biker Billies" and "Chocolate habaneros." Let's just say the stuff would put hair on your chest. It was not for the faint of heart but right up my alley. This year they gave me a bag of assorted capsicums and I took them to Lars, my favorite mixologist at the Dogwood restaurant in Baltimore to infuse with one of his organic Vodkas. He keeps it behind the bar for me to have with my short rib meatloaf special on Thursdays. I doubt mere mortals could touch the stuff. It really is wonderful in a dirty martini. This is one of Lars' concoctions.

"Crustaceans"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

Baltimore has long been called "the land of pleasant living" in advertisements for National Bohemian beer. Natty Boh being the proper drink of choice to wash down a dozen steamed crabs. Tossed unceremoniously on brown Kraft paper or on yesterdays news, these steaming hot crustaceans are what makes living in Maryland so special. In New England, arthropods are treated more upscale, often accompanied by a tenderloin filet and a fine Cabernet. The French take seafood to yet another level, pun intended. Their "plateau de fruits de mer" is a thing of beauty. Assorted shellfish and crabs are artfully arranged on a tower of ice filled splendor. You can find these in just about every brasserie in Paris. I hated to deconstruct these glorious edible works of art, although they were delicious.

"Olive and Friend"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

Have you ever wondered why some words are invariably coupled with a particular qualifying adjective? For instance, have you ever heard pride described as anything but foolish? It's always "foolish pride." Olive drab is another. Why are olives drab, I ask you? I painted this painting of Anne Stark's Whippet, Olive, to prove not only is this Olive not drab, but she is quite vibrant. Well OK, perhaps her companion is the vibrant one but I say guilt by association. All that pink reflects well on her.

"RibN"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 6"

I'm not sure why I was reminded of the menu of the late lamented Hausner's Restaurant in East Baltimore when I was working on this. Possibly because the restaurant was brimming with late 19th century art and on the menu cover was an image of a particularly sentimental but sweet painting of a little girl and a Saint Bernard from their collection. RibN, my friends Marianne and Steve's Australian Shepherd bears little resemblance to a St. Bernard. Perhaps it was the bits of pink hinted in his snout that jogged my memory.
My mother was a product of German immigrants. She was what you might call a "disinterested" cook. Her limited culinary bag of tricks was distinctly 50's - no herbs, no spices (except Adolf's meat tenderizer, S&P (not freshly ground pepper- Heaven forbid!), maybe some dried oregano to throw in the spaghetti, canned vegetables, and then cook the hell out of everything (sorry Mom). Although her father was a professional pastry chef, I'm afraid the apple fell very far from that tree. To be fair, my mother was a diabetic and an ex model and actress, so I guess food wasn't high on her list of priorities. Thankfully for me, my boyhood friend Keith's parents allowed me to tag along when they went to Hausner's. My palate, dulled by years of bland cooking, was desperate for new experiences. Imagine a 14 year old boy tucking into his first plate of hasenpfeffer...Yum!! Did I mention that Hausner's was known for their strawberry shortcake?

"The red coats are coming!"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 5" x 7"

I probably should have painted this a bit larger as the detail in the tack and coat required the use of my trusty opti-visor. I am not Jean-Leon Gerome by any stretch of the imagination but once upon a time I painted a lot of miniatures. There are only 27 Vermeer paintings in existence. There is a reason he wasn't a daily painter. I tried to have some fun with the paint and keep the background loose and free. I should have channeled Degas. He could have knock this out in 20 minutes.

"Three Foxhounds"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

The last few days have been most illuminating. Recently my painting lamp gave out after years of faithful service. I didn't think much of it at the time, I just assumed that I could go to the hardware store and get another one. Boy was I wrong. In their zeal to save Mother Earth, merchants have pulled from their shelves any flood lamp over 75 watts. Their intentions may be good but how am I supposed to see what I am painting? I bought one of those new-fangled curlique floods and it was passible but not great. My old reveal floodlight bathed my palette and canvas in lovely natural light. This new one bare lit up my work. I went back and bought a clip light and a 40 watt mini flood to light my palette and the Kelvin temp is close enough. I did find a source on the internet called Bulftown that still had some 150's so I may be back in business. If your neighborhood hardware store has any high wattage bulbs you may want to stock up while you still can.

"Salsa - the early days"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 6"

"We're all in this together"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 6" x 8"

I went to Centerstage on Tuesday and saw a fine production of Lynn Nottage's "Fabulation, or the re-education of Undine." A line from the play that stuck in my head was, and I paraphrase - "I dreamt of fish last night. That means I'm comin' into money." I, too, dreamt of fish that night, but for a completely different reason. When I started this painting, it seemed to be a fun little exercise in color and texture. It roughed in well, but soon I was lost in the myriad of iridescent hues and glistening reflections that had my head spinning. Each little fish had its own subtle character. Some seemed happy, (as happy as a dead fish can be) and others sad, or at least resigned to their fate. Sheep may all look the same, except perhaps to the shepherd, but I am here to tell you that all mackerel are not created equal. The variances in hue and shape caught me by surprise. Painting one was a challenge; painting a dozen soon became overwhelming. I fought the desire to do a wipe-out and the resulting painting turned out fresh and colorful. Lesson learned - push on though and try and come out on the other side. I'm glad I did.

"Eat Bertha's Mussels"

Oil on Canvas 15" x 20"

It is amazing how much time and thought goes into building a new house. Extreme care must be given to the choosing and placement of the smallest detail. As we get closer to being "under roof" the decisions about plumbing and lighting are coming fast and furious. Not wanting to make a mistake, we are spending hours and hours perusing lighting books and the Internet for that perfect sconce, just the right farm house sink, etc, etc. Sadly, my head is spinning from all this and I have not been able to concentrate. I did stand at the easel today but it just wasn't there. The painting laid in nicely but I couldn't see it through. I am going to freeze the palette and try again tomorrow. In the meantime, here is a painting a did in'05 that hasn't been posted.

There is a bar/restaurant in Fells Point called Bertha's which is famous for their steamed mussels. It is not uncommon to see their ubiquitous "Eat Bertha's Mussels" bumper stickers all over town. In one of the little side rooms, in a room painted chalk board green, is a table that has what I consider to be the perfect light for a portrait. I took my model friend Stephanie there one early afternoon for lunch, hoping my special table was unoccupied. It was and this is the result. They have excellent mussels by the way, if you should find yourself on the waterfront in Baltimore.

"Dino"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

When Piper had her kittens last summer we named the litter after the rat pack. Although perhaps not politically correct, the little black one was obviously named Sammy, the black and white one we named Dino and the little girl we called Shirley, after Shirley MacLaine. Dino's black and white spots are more Robert Motherwell than Dalmatian. I was more open to the abstract expressionists back in my youth. I remember going to a Halloween party dressed as Motherwell's Elegy to the Spanish Republic number 57. It was during the mime years so I had ready access to grease paint. I wore my beatnik black and painted Motherwell's painting on my face. No one at the party knew who I was supposed to be, imagine that. Then it occurred to me that I had painted the painting using a mirror so the image was backwards. Did I feel foolish. We had a couple in inches of snow today and Dino is really enjoying playing in it.

Stage Makeup

Oil on museum quality ampersand Gessobord panel 5' x 7"

One of the nice things about moving, if you are a pack rat like me, is you have an excuse to look through all the boxes and storage bins in the basement, attic and studio once again. It really is like Christmas. Phrases like "Hey, I've been looking for this," "Oh wow, I forgot I had one of these" etc., etc, spring to the lips. I am getting marginally better at editing out the true dreck from the "I might find a use for this someday." While foraging in the bowels of the cellar recently I came across a treasure trove of old photos from my theatre days. I thought it might be fun to stroll down memory lane and paint a mime once again. This is a young Tom Casciero from the Towson Mime Troupe putting on classic white face.

"Two horses with braided manes"

Oil on museum quality ampersand gessobord panel 8" x 8"

One of the most challenging things about recording the pageantry of the Blessing of the hunt held every Thanksgiving in Gyndon, Maryland is the intermingling of the hoi polloi and the hoity toity. The bucolic landscape of the valley is littered with petters in sweaters, mothers with strollers, teens with their iPods and photogs with tripods. Trying to get a clean shot is nearly impossible. Thankfully, as a painter, I can often just edit them out in the composition. While it might have been nice to include the quaint St. John's Episcopal Church in the background, there was something pleasing about the simplicity of this painting. The focus is on the magnificent beasts and the intricate harnesses and not the scene wherein they play in. I chose to use a simple blue into green gradient although not without trepidation. I had a back-of-my-mind fear that it may come off looking like the colored tissue paper that folks in the 50's put over their black and white TVs to simulate color; blue for the sky, red for the people and green for the grass. My fears turned out to be groundless, no pun intended, and the gambit paid off. The tack and harnesses proved to be much more labor intensive than I first imagined, but I always look at my reference and think I can lay it down in an hour and 6 hours later I am still pushing paint around. I may have to paint some fruit or oysters tomorrow just to prove to myself that I can paint a sketchy painting.

"Cleo"

Oil on museum quality ampersand Gessobord panel 6" x 8"

I am posting this late tonight and hope to write a bit more tomorrow afternoon. This is Cleopatra, a long haired Eastern German Shepherd. She was 13 weeks when she posed for this painting. Sorry about the huge file. I lost photoshop when I lost my computer and can't figure out how to resize things in lightroom.

"Dabo"

Oil on museum quality ampersand Gessobord panel 6" x 6"

The intensity of color got lost in translation on this portrait of the late Dabasir. I haven't had a chance to paint many birds. It was fun to have a new texture to play with after all the fur I've been painting lately. Dabo was 40 when he passed and hopefully he is flying high among the morning stars.

"Monet in a cable knit sweater"

Oil on museum quality ampersand Gessobord Panel 6" x 6"

I've been spinning my wheels since the break-in, trying to recoup my lost images and data. I did order a new computer today and am looking forward to my shiny new PC. Yes, I have returned to the dark side. I'm sure Macs are fine for some but I never really loved mine. It did have a beautiful monitor but it was like riding an Italian motorcycle; pretty but full of quirks, and what's with the CD drive? That alone kept me from getting another one.

Monet here was a fun little piece to help get me back to the easel. It reminds me of a George Rodrique blue dog painting.

Strange request (ndp)

An artist friend of mine made a strange request the other day. He said "Mark, I tried to paint a painting of my daughter's dogs and it didn't turn out well. I know you paint dogs. Do you think you could touch this up?" I, of course, was flattered but had never over-painted someone else's work before. I said I would see what I could do. It had quite a thick impasto of white on the panel which had to be removed before I could proceed. The original reference was of Kate, Emmie and Bandit laying on a white fur rug, which was probably taken at a Petsmart or some such place. I applauded my friend's artistic licence in creating the landscape instead of laying in the backdrop used for the photo and left it in, feathering the "snow" up to it. It's ironic that my first painting of the new year isn't really mine. It was an interesting exercise and a good way to get my hand back in it. How many of us have lost a painting and would have the nerve to ask someone else to save it? Of course he may not be thrilled that I posted this. Oops.

Here is the scraped down original so you can get an idea of the challenge:

"Self portrait with Vincent"

Oil on Canvas 16" x 24"

Tomorrow the theme of the daily painters is self-portraits. I was really looking forward to doing something fun with it until the robbery. Today was spent dealing with insurance people and data recovery so I didn't get into the studio to paint. To tell the truth my heart just wasn't in it. The other problem is I look kind of weird right now (er, more weird than usual). To celebrate my birthday we had a few folks over for a 50's themed dinner party. Since I was halfway there already, given my propensity for black turtlenecks, bongos and berets, I decided to go full beatnik daddy-o. I trimmed off the Santa beard and left the goatee which I dyed dark brown. To add to the authenticity I had my copy of Allen Ginsberg's Howl in my pocket in case an impromptu poetry reading was called for. I fear I may look like one of those sad men who use Clairol "just for men" a bit too long. I thought it would wash out but this stuff is good. I cut what was left of my beard really short and the grey is just starting to peek through. Before you know it I'll be getting the senior discount again.

I did this painting in 2005 after my beloved Vincent went to join his brother Theo in the morning stars.

Burglary

Ah! 2009 - Time to put all the bad stuff that happened last year behind us and look ahead to a bright new year. So what happens on day 3 of this bright new year? Someone breaks into my house and steals my iMac computer. Yes, the one that has taken me 9 months to finally get used to. Did I back up all my reference material that was on that machine? Yes and no. I had an external hard drive that automatically backs up the mac every hour and the perps left it behind. The trouble is that my auxiliary laptop is a PC and cannot read the data. Since I have to get a new computer anyway, I am going back to a PC. I never really loved the iMac other than the beautiful 24" screen.

Stay tuned. New work is coming, I promise.

"Down the tubes"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

Every time I go to the John I  am reminded of Wall Street. Why do you think that is?  I guess we are all concerned about our nest eggs being flushed down the loo.   I was in New York last week at Bond 45 for lunch. Nature called and I answered. While I was attending to the business at hand I found the plumbing intriguing. Hope you do, too.

"Champion Piper's Roman Gladiator"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

I deleted this by mistake so I am posting it again.  Be sure to look down for todays painting which is underneath this one.  It's a shame I lost this to cyberspace, there were some very lovely comments attached that I will miss.  BTW - this is another of Anne Stark's dogs.   You can find them at: www.piperspuppies4u.com

"Wilt on a Cold Day"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

As you can see, I am still in Dog Mode. Not that there's anything wrong with that. What appealed to me about this reference, other than the fact that he looks like Michael Phelps after winning his second gold medal at the summer Olympics, were the red and green blankets - quite apropos given the season.  City street lights, even stop lights, blink of bright red and green.  There is something magical about this set of complementary colors that isn't present in blue/orange, violet/yellow or other spectral variations.  If you read my tag the other day you may have noted that I am mad for hot food.  On a recent trip to New Mexico I was dining in a Tex-Mex restaurant and ordered some enchiladas. The server asked if I wanted my sauce, "red, green or Christmas?"  Christmas, of course, meaning both.  This little guy looks like he's plopped down on a plate of Christmas chile sauce.  I have always been a Christmas kind of guy.  In fact,  I'm starting to look like a bit like Santa.  By that, I mean I'm letting my white beard grow long, though I have been working harder on that bowl full of jelly than I should!  Heck, I named my daughter Holly.  Speaking of the holidays.  I may be very busy this coming week; making lists and checking them twice, etc., so this may be my last post for a while.

"JJ upside-down on a hooked rug"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 6”

I had an e-mail from a friend the other day who complained that I had been remiss in my blog duties, that I have not fleshed out the posted paintings with my usual amusing stories and bon mots.  I'll grant you les mots justes have not been readily at my fingertips.  Perhaps it is laziness on my part or is it that I have spent my creative energy on creating the painting and have nothing left for the blog?  I usually tell myself that I will do the write up in the morning when I am fresh. Sometimes this happens but more often than not it doesn't.  Gene Fowler said "Writing is easy: you just stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood appear on your forehead." 

Henceforth I will try and give the paintings a little background.

JJ brought me a little present tonight; a live mouse he found in the basement.  He was plainly pleased with himself, since he isn't allowed outside and has hitherto only had various faux mice to play with.  His delight turned to frustration when his treasure made a break for it and wound up behind my bookcase.  JJ is in there still, biding his time.  

"Rover and Moe"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 10”

I didn't get too much of a back story on these little guys. I know that Rover (on the right) has gone to join the morning stars and his owner misses him terribly and wanted a posthumous portrait to commemorate his short life.  Short in stature only.  Judging from his grey muzzle he had a long and happily life.  His notched left ear is a complete mystery.  I should follow up on that.

Getting the Blues

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I was at the art supply store yesterday and finally decided it was time to replace the ancient tube of Cerulean Blue paint that I've had in my paintbox since high school. I needed a dab of it the other day and found it lacked a certain youth. I also bought a tube of Cobalt Teal on impulse. (Cobalt Teal? Who knew?) I have been impressed with some of my fellow daily painters pool/ocean paintings and wanted to play with the genre. Splashing around in all that blue paint was totally foreign to me. My early palette layout was decidedly Dutch, with just a touch of Ultramarine keeping the earth tones company, to cool down the shadows. Although Salvador Dali disapproves of the pigment in his book "Fifty Secrets to Magic Craftsmanship," I also keep a bit of Prussian Blue on my palette. Laying on the paint in such a free manner was cathartic. It is good for a realist painter to remember what the medium is capable of. I didn't wait 30 minutes after eating to jump into this painting. I'm happy to report that I did not get a cramp.

"Maryland Steamed Crab"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

There is a song that is popular around this time of year called “[Oh, I want] Crabs for Christmas.” You may think that crab season is long gone. Au contraire, mon frère! Some of the best crabs we have ever had were consumed in the winter. Granted they were brought up from Texas or Louisiana but they were meaty and delicious. This little guy was the last of the local Chesapeake Bay harvest. Small, but fat and sweet. A pitcher of Natty Boh (National Bohemian) is the perfect accompaniment to these delightful crustaceans but sadly, at our favorite crab house we have to settle for Coor’s Light. It is visually identical to Boh, so use your imagination. Cheers!

"Tally Ho"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I have attended the Blessing of the hounds at St. John's Episcopal Church in Glyndon, Md for the last couple of years.  The church is a charming neo-gothic cathedral nestled in the heart of horse country.  It has always been pet friendly. For instance; my wife and I often attend Christmas morning service there where our dear friend Father Frederick Hannah has been the guest rector. I grant you it is a tiny church but I can only surmise that the bulk of the congregation was in attendance on Christmas Eve since the 10:00 am morning service never boasted more than two dozen or so parishioners.  One Christmas morning, as we knelt at the alter awaiting communion, we notice a tiny nose poking out of the jacket of the man next to us.  He had a tiny puppy with him.  Father Fred gave the man the host and blessed the little dog, he did not let the puppy drink from the common cup.

I don't normally cut off heads in my compositions but this painting cried out for ambiguity and abstraction.  The negative spaces, the pull of red and green, and the free brushwork came together to form a very pleasing painting (at least to me).

"Please sir, I want some more."

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

We weren't lucky enough at my high school to have our own composer like Kelsey from High School Musical to create something original.  For our senior musical we were forced to use the work of Lionel Bart.  I must that say our production of Oliver! was very professional, and not just because of the great scenic artwork in which I had a hand. Right by the computer are two large french doors and very often one or more little faces are pressed up against the glass, looking in with pleading eyes for more food.  Even if I slide the door very slowly, they scatter.  All except Sammy that is, he comes just inside the door to have a look.  There is a scene in Oliver! when young Oliver, having finished his meager bowl of gruel goes up to Mr. Bumble for seconds. "Please sir, I want some more." he says.  I often think that is running through these little girls' heads. This is of course Piper and her new daughter Shirley.

This painting looks better in reality.  The photo doesn't show off the softness of the fur very well.  For the record, my high school basketball team were the Parkville Knights.  "Get your head in the game!"

Tag - you're it!

Tagging season is in full swing and I've been tagged by two fine artists this week.  Alice Thompson and Susan Beauchemin both honored me with this distinction.

This is a fun way to get to know your blogger friends in art! The rules of this great game are:

1. Put a link in your posting to the person who tagged you.

2. List 7 unusual things about yourself.

3. Tag 7 other bloggers at the end of your post and comment on their blogs to let them know.

These are my seven;

1.  I can recite Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Ernest” word for word.  Once upon a time I went for light treatments for a skin problem I was having, which required me to stand naked in a tall cylinder filled with tubes of UV lamps for 30 minutes at a time. There is not much to do in there but contemplate life. To pass the time I would recite the play out loud. I nearly got up to Act II before the timer went off.    I can only image what the nurses in the office thought listening to me arguing with myself in a pronounced British accent thusly:

Jack. How can you sit there, calmly eating muffins when we are in this horrible trouble, I can’t make out. You seem to me to be perfectly heartless.

Algernon. Well, I can’t eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter would probably get on my cuffs. One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only way to eat them.

Jack. I say it’s perfectly heartless your eating muffins at all, under the circumstances.

Algernon. When I am in trouble, eating is the only thing that consoles me. Indeed, when I am in really great trouble, as any one who knows me intimately will tell you, I refuse everything except food and drink. At the present moment I am eating muffins because I am unhappy. Besides, I am particularly fond of muffins. [Rising.]

Jack. [Rising.] Well, that is no reason why you should eat them all in that greedy way. [Takes muffins from Algernon.]

Algernon. [Offering tea-cake.] I wish you would have tea-cake instead. I don’t like tea-cake.

Jack. But I hate tea-cake.

Algernon. Why on earth then do you allow tea-cake to be served up for your guests? What ideas you have of hospitality!

2.  I love to eat spicy food that mere mortals dare not.  Wilbur Scoville consults me for heat ratings on peppers.  It must be the endorphin rush from the heat, like a runner's high.  That said, I find those silly XXX hot sauces like Endorphin Rush to be nasty bitter extracts.  I like taste with my heat, which leads into tidbit number 3.

3.   I am an avid cook.  I do the lion’s share of the cooking in our house, my wife does the baking.  Baking is science, cooking is art.  Don’t get me wrong, my wife, Susan, is a great cook, too.  Baking requires precise measurements for things to do what they are supposed to do and that’s not my way.  My maternal grandfather was a professional pastry chef and explained precise measures to me as a boy as he poured baking powder or salt into the palm of his hand.  Years of practice taught him to know what a teaspoon of whatever looked like.  Where measuring is concerned, I am a palm of the hand guy myself.  

4.  I’m gay -- Well, maybe not actually gay.  I often listen to show tunes or vintage disco while painting.  Lately it’s been “High School Musical.”  How many straight men over the age of fifty do that?  My mother,  an aspiring actress, would wake me for school every day with her best Debbie Reynolds rendition of “Good Morning, good morning, we talked the whole night through. Good morning, good morning to you...” from "Singing in the Rain.” Of course I couldn’t really be gay, aside from the obvious choice of the gender of my partner; I dress like a biker (or a beatnik) and have the body of Balzac.  One of my models likes to rub my tummy for good luck while whispering under her breath, “Buddha Belly.”  This brings me to number 5.

5.  I slept with David Hasselhoff.  Well, maybe not actually slept with him, it was more of a sleepover.  When I was a small boy, my parents were very good friends with his parents, Joe and Dolores Hasselhoff.   (My mother pronounced their name Hazelhoff, as in witch hazel, back then.) When my parents would visit Joe and Dolores, they would pack my sisters and me in the car with our PJ’s.  Eventually we and the Hasselhoff kids would fall asleep watching TV waiting for our parents to finish playing Canasta or whatever parents did in the fifties.  I haven't seen him in fifty years.  It’s a pity we lost touch, I know he rides a Harley and I’d love to go on a ride with him sometime.

6.  My mother was an ailurophobe, I am an ailurophile.  I didn’t grow up with cats but now I couldn’t imagine my life without them.  But then anyone who reads my blog regularly knows that.  J’embrasse mon chat sur la bouche.

7.  I suffer from terrible stage fright.  Painfully shy as a small boy, my mother thought the stage might help bring me out of my shell and enlisted me in a summer stock production of “Rumpelstiltskin,” where I played a peasant.  I did get to wear a cool costume, but seeing all those people looking at me freaked me out. I was an acolyte at my church for four years, which petrified me, but I kept on despite myself because I loved the robes.  The theatre is in my blood and in high school I became involved in set design and construction.  I did a bunch of scene painting for Peabody Opera Theatre back in the 80’s.  To this day I love to wear costumes. On any given day I either look like Maynard Krebs or a Hell's Angel.  But if it’s Oktoberfest, the lederhosen comes out.  Renaissance Festival?  No problem. Christmas?  Ho, Ho, Ho.  Indeed I have so many fencing shirts, capes and waistcoats hanging in my closet, the cleaning people are beginning to wonder about me (see number 4).  

My 7 victims, er tags are:

Diane Hoeptner

Todd Bonita

Jeff Mahorney

John K Harrell

Sherry DeGhelder

Kay Crain

Joanne Giesbrecht

I don't know if I mentioned this, but we are designing and building a new house/studio which is really eating into my painting time.  Hopefully tomorrow will see me at the easel.

"Max"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

I've never painted a Cornish Rex before today.  The coat of a Cornish Rex is curly and extremely fine.  It's more like down than fur.  Indeed, Max here would get hypothermia on a day like today if he was allowed outside. Not unlike JJ, Max has found a recently closed laptop to perch on. He lives with my friend George and his antics are legend. In case you were wondering what is in the background of this piece; it is huge glass bell dome covering a stuffed crane atop an ornate carved chinese stand.

As I am typing this, some drama was happening just outside.  I had given Piper and the kids a bowl of kitten chow about 10 minutes ago and when I looked out, a very large raccoon was woofing down their food.  They were cowering in their cooler/cathouse.  I chased off Rory and checked on the gang.  Everybody was OK, thank goodness.  I still don't have the heart to separate Piper from her children.  I am working on gaining there confidence.  

It felt good to be back at the easel today.

Art - A seeing and feeling process

I am not going to wallow in creative self pity once more. Suffice it to say that I just couldn't summon up the inspiration to push around the paint today. I have many wonderful images and ideas in the queue but they all seemed flat. I passed up dinner and Quantum of Solace tonight because I felt that I had to create something. (Sorry Steve, a vodka martini, shaken, not stirred, might have cheered me up) Some artists can force themselves to work when their heart isn't in it, and successfully come out the other side. If I try and do that, it is reflected in the paint, which just makes me feel worse. Performance anxiety sets in when I have been away from the studio too long. I hate to disappoint everyone who has subscribed to my blog and who look forward to wonderful new things from me. Sorry guys, I'm working on it. This economy is getting to me. Did I mention we are building a new house? How's that for timing?

They're Baaack - and I'm gone

These paintings swam back upstream to the studio.  I held a few paintings back for the "Fish and Fowl" show at the Ice House Gallery in Berkeley Springs, WV last month. The works below are now available, all framed up for the holidays. If you'd like to have one click this link: www.dailypainters.com and click "Artists," then find me and open my "Gallery"  click on the painting you want, click the PayPal button and voilà.   

In case you haven't guessed, my creative batteries are depleted (again).  I am off to the Big Easy to recharge them.  New work on Tuesday, I promise.

"Kittens in a wall"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

Maybe it's the little guys frolicking just outside the studio that made me want to paint this piece.  I have been spending way too much time watching the "rat pack" as we call them.  Sammy, Dino and Shirley are destined to make the move into the studio before the snow flies.  I made a make-shift house by cutting a 8" x 8" hole in front of an old igloo cooler and put a heated dog bed in it, which they have taken to, so I am slightly less worried about them being cold.  Piper is still a hissy little bitch but the kids are starting to think the big monster is O.K.  

These little kittens looked at first like they were stuck in the wall of my friends barn, but I was assured that they could come and go with no problem and that they felt safe in their nest.  Having a farm can be a challenge.  People seem to think they can dump kittens off with impunity.  After all, everybody knows you can't have too many barn cats.  At last count my friend has 50 some outside cats and 16 inside.  She is more of a bleeding heart than I am, God bless her. 

"Toasted Marshmallow"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 5” x 5”

Experience has taught me that two weeks away from the easel requires a slow progression back. Too often have I set myself up for a creative crisis by starting in on a complex new piece without warming up.  You wouldn't start a marathon without limbering up; the creative process requires no less. 

 

While camping on Long Key last week, I met a gifted pastry chef named Kelsey who had the site next to ours. My riding buddy Hugh, a.k.a. the "Beast," and I had a large bottle of Tanqueray Rangpur Gin and some Rose's lime juice and she had homemade marshmallows and a roaring campfire.  It was a match made in heaven.  I should mention it was cold, cold, cold.  Temperatures in the low 50's was not what I was expecting in the Florida Keys but with the help of a few Gimlets and the campfire we didn't feel the chill.  You can never go back to Stay-Pufts once you've had Kelsey's.  She was kind enough to leave us a whole bag of them when she broke camp the next day.  This painting features one of her creations freshly charred by the fire and seconds before being happily devoured by me.

Heading South

I'm riding the bike down to Key West for Halloween and some inspiration.  I'll be back on the 4th so don't look for any new work until shortly after then.  Happy Halloween!

"Oyster Shell with Lemons"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I threw my back out yesterday, which put the "pain" in painting.  I stand while I work and every time I twisted from my easel to my palette, which is on a converted music stand, it was electrifying.  I guess being 55 is starting to take its toll.  I may try and paint something simple today and hold the palette in my hand.  I am riding my Harley on a 1200 mile ride down to the Florida Keys, leaving Sunday, so I want to baby my back until then.  To that end, there will be no new daily paintings from 10-25 thru 11-5. "Please don't talk about me when I'm gone."  On second thought, talk all you want.  It is better to be looked over, than overlooked.

"Llama"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I recently attended a party at the farm of some friends. They have quite a varied menagerie; llamas, a kangaroo, a wallaroo, goats, sheep, chickens, a pig and cats, lots and lots of cats.  I had never been face to face with a live llama.  My introduction to them was from Dr. Dolittle's Pushme-Pullyu, so you can image my surprise at seeing that they only had one head.  I also expected them to spit like camels, but one gave my friend Tom a kiss without so much as a little drool. I was impressed with these sweet creatures.

This just in:  I got an e-mail this morning from my friend Marsharee who tells me I have painted "motley blue". Llamas put their ears back at half mast like that when being a bit cautious and first meeting someone new, so this is his "hmmm, let me see what I think of you" face and ears.

"Thor"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 10”

Last weekend two dear friends, Laura and Miriam, were staying at the studio.  Both girls are aspiring opera singers living in New York.  They asked me if it would be OK for them to bring their Miniature Schnauzer, Thor, with them.  Hitherto my cats JJ and Anna had never had a canine houseguest, so I was naturally apprehensive but acquiesced.  My fears, it turned out, were groundless.  Thor, who lives in harmony, or at least detente, with a cat in the Big Apple, was not interested in my guys and JJ and Anna spent most of the weekend upstairs on the bed keeping a prudent distance.  They never really met nose to nose, so I still don’t know what my guys think about dogs.  At least they weren’t freaked out. They were more nervous about Laura’s morning vocal warm up exercises, which Thor is quite accustomed to.  Not so with my childhood dog Emily.  My father was a proud member of the American Legion and one chilly Sunday he took my sisters and me downtown for the Washington’s Birthday celebration. Also along for the ride was our pet beagle, Emily.  It being February and as little kids are wont to do, we started complaining about the cold.  We sought solace in a cathedral where a recital was going on.  Since we had Emily with us, dad snuck her in under his coat and we all slipped up the back stairs to the balcony.  A soprano was giving her all to “God Bless America” when Emily decided it was time for her Kate Smith imitation, Beagle style.  I must say that even without warming up vocally, Emily could reach the high notes, though her phasing could have used some work.  Needless to say we made a hasty retreat. That was the end of Emily’s singing career, at least for an audience. 

  While I had this handsome canine in house, I availed myself of his modeling services.  I was cautioned by the girls that he was desperately in need of a haircut. So here is Thor.  You may see him backstage at the Met someday, waiting patiently for his mistress(es) to return from the limelight.

"Piper's Work of Art"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 6”

Oh My God!  I know what you're thinking - "Mark has sunk to painting puppies and kittens!" What's next - Dogs playing poker?  This is no mere puppy.  He is the offspring of Champion Piper's Will Power and Piper's Felony Indictment.  His formal name is Piper's Work of Art though his friends call him Artie for short, and short he is, being about six weeks old.  You can watch him grow into the Champion he is sure to become at http://piperspuppies4u.com/

JJ Sleeping

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

JJ has the ability to make me laugh even when times are tough.  He seems to know instinctively when I'm down and this position always produces a smile.  He has been striking this pose since the day we brought him in. This deferential stance is what won Anna over.  It says "Hey, I'm not here to cause any trouble, I just really want a tummy rub."  Have you ever known a cat to sleep on his back?

"Sam"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

This is Sam, or should I say was Sam.  Sam died last July 30th at the age of 14-1/2. He was diagnosed with cancer of the mouth when he was 10.  His owner was told that half of his jaw needed to be removed but she couldn't do it since the prognosis was that he would only live another 12 months even with the surgery.  She ended up taking him to a conventionally trained Cornell vet who practiced homeopathy too.  With a simple cryosurgery procedure and Chinese herb treatments, he lived another 4-1/2 years and is now one of very few documented canine cancer successes.  It was heart failure that finally took him out.   The original reference was of him sitting on a garden bench in the bright sun.  I chose to let my inner fashion illustrator come out and gave Sam the Richard Avedon/Irving Penn grey-seamless treatment.  His fuzzy free spirit is thus unencumbered by all the extraneous, distracting elements. 

"Piper's Felony Indictment"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

Do you remember when you were in elementary school and you were out sick with the measles for a week?  You hated going back to class because you would be behind all the other kids and would have to catch up with the lessons.  The measles were not much fun but it was cool having your own private mini vacation.  I sometimes look at vacations like that.  They may be enjoyable, but the dreaded "cold start" awaits me in the studio.  I toyed with the idea of simplifying the blanket in this piece but I kind of like the wild animal aspect of it and the fluidity of dog and pattern.  Felony is another of Anne Stark's champion whippets.

a little R&R

I will be away from the studio for a few days.  No, I haven't checked into artistic rehab.  This was some planned R&R "downy Ohshin" as we say in Balwmer.  I actually came through this last bout of artistic malaise fairly quickly, with the sage advice of my fellow artists.  Thanks to all who commiserated with me. I am looking forward to getting back to work on Saturday.  My opening in Berkley Springs is Friday night, which also is an ego boost.   

"Caymus"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I was going to call this "Four aces and his stop" but C.M. Coolidge beat me to it.  This guy looks like he might be holding a royal flush from the look on his face.  This is one of the "calling all dogs" reference.  Thanks, Pegi Sue for the model and thanks everyone who sent me the fun images to play with.  You will see more in the weeks to come.  

"JJ with Flowers"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

This is my first attempt at getting back on the bike.  I felt a little shaky but I pushed through.  I wasn't going for a masterpiece, just something to build my confidence. Since JJ is my constant companion in the studio, I had but to look back to check my model.  This is not a great reproduction of this painting.  The flowers have more intensity in real life. It's a start.

Fish and Fowl invitation

If you happen to be in the Berkeley Springs, West Virginia area this coming month, I have 10 paintings in a show called "Fish and Fowl - Perceived and Imagined" which is curated by my friend Jane Kelly Morias who is herself a gifted artist and ceramist and includes talented friends Harvey Kirstel and Olin Yoder, among others.  The show is at the Ice House, www.macicehouse.org, and runs from Friday, October 3 through November 9.  I'll be at the opening Friday, October 3 from 7:30 to 9:00 and would love to see you.

Creative meltdown

In case you are wondering why I haven't posted anything new in a couple of days, it is because I am having a creative meltdown.  These things happen.   I have not been happy with the last three paintings and have wiped them down. I am trying to work through it.  Stay tuned.

Calling all Dogs! (and cats)

You may have noticed that I have been painting a lot of animal portraits lately.  I may have found my true calling.  While I have owned dogs in the past (Beagle, Scottie, Welsh Corgi and a Lhasa Apso at various times in my life) I now have only my two feline companions to serve as willing (or unwilling) models.  Anne Stark, a breeder of champion whippets and dachshunds, has provided literally hundreds of photos of her dogs for me to pick from and hone my skills. (Thanks, Anne!) Along with these have been my friends pets; Mimi, Mr Big, Walter the wonder wiener, and Leo, to name a few.  Although a great source of inspiration, they are but a tip of the iceberg in this learning curve of animal portraiture.  I flirted with Appropriationism back in the 80's, in a sort of Roy Liechtenstein with Vogue Magazines instead of comics kind of way.  It was fun and the paintings well received but what I really got out of it was the sharpening of my portrait skills.  I do like having control over my images, but I am not opposed to source material that I can put my own spin on. There is a fun blog called Different strokes from different folks which compels artists to do just that.  What I need right now is grist for the creative mill. I'm sure there is a dog show coming up sometime where I can get reference of some more exotic breeds like an Anatolian Shepherd or a Bluetick Coonhound, but my need is now.  If you, gentle readers, have a photo or two (or more) of your faithful friends, canine or feline, past or present , and thought "Gosh, Mark could do something fun with this", send it to me and it may find its way onto these pages.  JJ is getting bored with the whole posing thing.  A link to my e-mail address is on the right column.

"China"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8"

Here is a better view of my sweet China.  Her piercing blue eyes could melt the hardest heart. Non-cat people say that cats are too independent, that they wouldn't give you the time of day. These people never met China.  She would come when called, loved to play fetch, would scold you when she felt it was time for bed and if you were sitting down she was in your lap.  She was so light you never even felt her jump up, but look down and there she was. Her daughter, Anna, has many of her charming qualities. I thought China might get lost against all these patterns but I think it works. That deep purple and beige ottoman lives in my studio just a few feet behind me while I'm at the easel. If I take too many steps backwards, I go over it like Rob Petrie in the opening credits of the old Dick Van Dyke Show. I'd move it (my studio is 20' x 40') but JJ likes to sit close by while I work. It does keep me from losing my focus. Salvador Dali is said to have nailed a 2x4 on his floor to trip over and bring him back to reality; I have JJ. (I have been moving it ever so slightly towards the window. So far he hasn't noticed)

"Young Equestrian"

Oil on Canvas  -  20" x 30"

Regular visitors to the studio will recognize this portrait and might have assumed it was from my personal collection.  As well they might.  This portrait and a companion piece of her brother have been my constant companions in the studio for almost two years.  "Two years?" you might ask.  "Why so long?"  It's like this; A patron of mine wanted copies made of two portraits that I had done in the 90's of her children. In fifteen years one's skill level (hopefully) improves.  I am a much better painter now than I was then.  Do I faithfully render the early work in my old hand or bring them up to the present?  It is something I have been grappling with for quite a while.  Since I still had the old reference, I chose to compromise.  They are still very close to the originals but I think they have a certain je ne sais quoi. 

"Oysters,Guinness and lemon"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 5” x 7”

Shiver me timbers!  It be September me hearties and that be a month with an Arrrrr. Davy Jones has once again given up some of his treasure from the briny deep. In this case that be the Whale Rock oyster from the Mystic River in Connecticut. Sink me, it's time to splice the mainbrace. Fair winds!

OK, enough with the Captain Jack already!  Do we have an accord? (sorry)  I was in a funk yesterday and wasn't really in the mood to paint but regrouped later in the day to push around some paint.  This piece is little more than a sketch but I like the spontaneity of it.  There is something satisfying about scratching your name into wet paint.  It is tantamount to carving your name in a tree, perhaps more so.  Even the hardiest tree will fall but a work of art will go on. Unless the piece is total dreck, I don't know anyone who throws away art.*  It may get passed around or given to the goodwill perhaps, but not thrown in the bin.  The world is full of works of art that perchance should be tossed, but like an ugly child, someone will love them. So paint carefully my brothers and sisters.  If the world is still around, and you have used good materials, the by product of your creative efforts will be around long after you are gone. There is a reason why they make "student grade" materials - planned obsolescence.

  *I went to my 20th high school reunion back in 1990 and ran into a girl with whom I exacted my very first painting transaction.   It was a piece I had done in Studio class my senior year of my friend Danny rising from a field of weeds or wildflowers (this was the sixties, baby, and we were letting our freak flag fly.)  I was very flattered when this girl (a very attractive girl, I might add. One who I never had the nerve to even talk to) ask if she could buy it.  Hitherto, I had not thought about pricing or even selling my work, so her question caught me off guard.  "Sure," I stammered, "How about 10 bucks" This was a lot of money in 1969, at least it was to me.  She agreed and we made the exchange.  When I saw her again at the reunion, I asked about the painting.  She informed me that her husband didn't like it and threw it out.  Not gave it away, mind you...THREW IT OUT!!  So much for my first sale. 

"China with Kittens"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

I guess the feral kittens outside have reminded me of when my own cat China gave birth to her litter almost eighteen years ago.  The last of which, Anna, is on my lap as I type this, with both paws over my left wrist and her head resting demurely on them. This does not help my already poor typing skill, but if I try and extricate my hand, she takes her paw and puts it back where it was.  I think she is pleased that I finally got around to painting her, albeit if only one day old.  As China got close to delivering, we made her a nesting box and placed a yellow towel on the bottom. Here, exhausted after a long night in labor, she settles in with her new family.  The next night she decided we all should sleep together and one by one placed them on our bed.  Fearing to crush the kittens in our sleep, we tried to persuade her keep them in the nesting box, to no avail.  In the end, we made an island of pillows on the middle of the bed and there the seven of us slept for the next 8 weeks.  It was one of the happiest times of my life.  China, too, lost her battle with cancer three years ago, which was one of the saddest. 

"Piper the calico kitten"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

A few weeks ago a little white cat showed up in the area we call the bird berm,  a lush oasis for our avian friends to eat and bath and hang out together. In order to keep the peace and prevent this from becoming the cat feeding station, if you catch my drift, we put out some food for the cat, who looked to be quite pregnant. We convince her that free canned cat food served on the other side of the house, on our patio, was a better option than having to hunt for her meals.  She soon became a regular diner at "The Cats Meow" patio restaurant.  Word got around and soon we had another regular, a calico with white paws. We had named the white cat Bristol, after a certain Alaskan Governor's daughter, so it made sense to name her Piper, after her sister.  Three days ago up pops 4 or 5 kittens and we still don't know whose they are. There is a totally black one, a calico. a white with spots and a tabby.  They appear to be about 4 weeks old.  I looked out the window this morning and piper was cuddled up with one of the kittens so perhaps they are hers.  In any case, we are going through about 8 cans of food a day between our cats Anna and JJ and this new pride.  Piper and I had a break-thru today; she has claimed me by rubbing, rubbing, rubbing my legs when I feed her. Sadly we didn't find the kittens early enough to tame them and they are quite the scaredy- cats.  This is Piper on the blue stone patio.

"Habaneros and jalapeños" - Altered states

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 6”

I woke up this morning at 5:30 to feed the cats (their choice to break fast at dawn, not mine) and went over to the computer to check the blog.  "How nice," I thought, "I already have a comment." It was more critique than comment, basically saying, in so many words, that the painting was not up to my usual standards. Hitherto, I had never had more than an improper rude comment about my nudes and here it was, staring out at me, what I considered the Internet equivalent of my wife saying, "Surely you aren't going to leave it like that."  Early this week, I read a letter from a fellow artist on the Daily Painters site asking what to do about bad comments. Most people said to delete and ignore them.  Her bad comment was, "Oh dear, please, spare us."  Not the kind of remark that sends you running back into the studio to create.  This guy's comment was more a helpful criticism.  That early in the morning I was in no mood to see negative stuff about a work that I hadn't even seen since signing it at midnight, so I promptly deleted it. I immediately regretted doing so. Happily, my mail saves a copy and since he posted it on my comments page with his link, here is what he said:  "I think your work not present well yet (especially the character of red peppers, the green ones are really good). It so different if I compare with other your work( Red and Yellow Peppers ). overall your works totally awesome, sorry if my english is not good and sarcastic, coz I can speak well in english.... thank you."  Oddly enough, his comment was right on.  I, too, felt that the habaneros were too red when I stopped the painting. Artists know a painting is never finished, merely stopped at a given time. Choosing the right time to stop is crucial. I spent an hour this morning bring this to a more satisfying stopping spot. In retrospect, his comment was quite flattering.  Thank you, Febru.

"Red Hot Chili Peppers"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 6”

"Whippet Portrait"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I used Will as a model a few months ago and I was fascinated by the variety of hues in his fur. The subtle pinks and blues in the shadows begged for more exploration.  Also, the other piece was painted on linen mounted on a birch-wood panel.  While I enjoyed that painting, the use of gessobord allowed the brushwork to be more pronounced.  Tightening up the composition also changed the attitude of the painting by focusing on his lovely profile instead of his long, slender legs.  I'm not sure which I prefer.  To help you decide for yourself, here is a link to the May 2008 iteration of Piper's Will Power.

Will (a.k.a Ch. Piper's Will Power) and his progeny and canine cohorts can be seen at www.piperspuppies4u.com

"Radishes" - What's the madder?

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 6”

What's the Madder?  I am talking about rose madder lake, a very expensive, crimson-like pigment, which I have in my paint box but never seem to have had an opportunity to put on my palette (until now).  I was at the market on Saturday and these radishes called out to me.  "Paint me, paint me!" they shouted.  Radishes don't always agree with me, nor I them, but this time they were making sense.  Wegman's has an automatic misting device in their produce department, and, as if on queue, the spray nozzles came to life and applied a dazzling sheen to these guys that intensified their color and sealed the deal.  If I needed another reason, other than the classic, Christmasy goodness of the color scheme, the tips of this vegetable, just before going white, are a distinctive rose madder hue.  I  had to have them, if only to pull out that dusty tube and give it a little squeeze. Why did I buy the pigment in the first place?  I had heard of its beauty and during a half-off sale at my local art emporium, dropped a tube in my basket.  This place marks their prices in code - pigment such and such is "Code A", another "Code B" and so on. When I got to the counter, I found out what "Code E" was.  Even half off, the small tube of pigment was $35.00. What the hell, I bought it anyway, and there it has sat until now.  I could have faked it with alizarin crimson, but why?

From Horse Feathers:

Student: Oh, Professor, you're full of whimsy. 

Professor Wagstaff: Can you notice it from there? I'm always that way after I eat radishes.

"Lobster on Ice"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I meant for these lobster paintings to be a "before and after" set but oops, I sold the other one already.  I am going to hold this one back for the Ice House show in October.  I had fun scumbling in the barnacles and craggy spines and, of course, ice is always fun to paint.  

"Izzie"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 10”

Another small study of Izzie, the Pembrook Welsh Corgi. Dear Izzie was involved in a altercation with a neighborhood brute and came out on the short end. Plastic surgery was required to restore her nose to its original beauty. Like Violetta in La Traviata, she will always have this portrait to reflect on her past glory, although I am told her schnoz has healed nicely.

  

"Newport Lobster"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

My first job, years ago, was a crab steamer in Baltimore. I was in my teens and although I enjoyed the independence that those first meager paychecks brought, I was not comfortable sending thousands of crabs to their death every night when I opened that steam valve. I resigned myself to my place on the food chain and took comfort in the thought that they gave themselves to a greater good. However, my heart wasn't in it and soon, when an opening came up, a found myself in the kitchen as a short order cook and my love of food and cooking began.  

 

I was in Newport, Rhode Island last week and met two of these guys up close and personal. Thankfully they steamed them on the dock for us.  Even with my notorious past with crustaceans, I don't have the heart to plunge one of these guys into boiling water.  That said, they were delicious.  

"JJ on the sofa"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

With Cats, some say, one rule is true:
 Don't speak till you are spoken to.
 Myself, I do not hold with that -
 I say, you should ad-dress a Cat.
 But always keep in mind that he
 Resents familiarity.
 I bow, and taking off my hat,
 Ad-dress him in this form: O CAT!
 But if he is the Cat next door,
 Whom I have often met before
 (He comes to see me in my flat)
 I greet him with an OOPSA CAT!
 I've heard them call him James Buz-James -
 But we've not got so far as names.
 Before a Cat will condescend
 To treat you as a trusted friend,
 Some little token of esteem
 Is needed, like a dish of cream;
 And you might now and then supply
 Some caviare, or Strassburg Pie,
 Some potted grouse, or salmon paste -
 He's sure to have his personal taste.
 (I know a Cat, who makes a habit
 Of eating nothing else but rabbit,
 And when he's finished, licks his paws
 So's not to waste the onion sauce.)
 A Cat's entitled to expect
 These evidences of respect.
 And so in time you reach your aim,
 And finally call him by his NAME. 

                                                       T.S.Eliot 

That name would be JJ.

"Mimi"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

This sweet Bearded Collie belongs to my friend Diane. Mimi was a rescue dog who now lives with her two brothers, both Standard Poodles.  There is no question who is the leader of the pack and that's Mme. Mimi.  I caught her just before she struck a less ladylike pose that begged for a tummy rub.

When I think of Mimi, I think of the tragic heroine of my favorite opera; Puccini's La Boheme:

Mi chiamano Mimì, 
ma il mio nome è Lucia. 
La storia mia 
è breve. A tela o a seta 
ricamo in casa e fuori... 
Son tranquilla e lieta 
ed è mio svago 
far gigli e rose. 
Mi piaccion quelle cose 
che han sì dolce malìa, 
che parlano d'amor, di primavere, 
di sogni e di chimere, 
quelle cose che han nome poesia...

Mi chiamano Mimì, 
il perché non so. 
Sola, mi fo 
il pranzo da me stessa. 
Non vado sempre a messa, 
ma prego assai il Signore. 
Vivo sola, soletta 
là in una bianca cameretta: 
guardo sui tetti e in cielo; 
ma quando vien lo sgelo 
il primo sole è mio 
il primo bacio dell'aprile è mio! 
Germoglia in un vaso una rosa... 
Foglia a foglia la spio! 
Cosi gentile 
il profumo d'un fiore! 
Ma i fior ch'io faccio, ahimè! non hanno odore. 
Altro di me non le saprei narrare. 
Sono la sua vicina 
che la vien fuori d'ora a importunare.

They call me Mimi, 
but my real name's Lucia. 
My story is brief. 
I embroider silk and satin 
at home or outside. 
I'm tranquil and happy, 
and my pastime 
is making lilies and roses. 
I love all things 
that have gentle magic, 
that talk of love, of spring, 
that talk of dreams and fancies - 
the things called poetry ... 

They call me Mimi – 
I don't know why. 
I live all by myself 
and I eat all alone. 
I don't often go to church, 
but I like to pray. 
I stay all alone 
In my tiny white room, 
I look at the roofs and the sky. 
But when spring comes 
the sun's first rays are mine. 
April's first kiss is mine, is mine! 
The sun's first rays are mine! 
A rose blossoms in my vase, 
I breathe its perfume, petal by petal. 
So sweet is the flower's perfume. 
But the flowers I make, alas, 
The flowers I make, alas, 
alas, have no scent. 
What else can I say? 
I'm your neighbour, disturbing you 
at this impossible hour. 

"Urinal"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

OK, so I lied.  Perhaps it doesn't have to be an animate subject to have fun with the light and paint.  While I was in "chrome" mode I thought I would experiment with some loose paint and a piece of iconic porcelain.  No Dadaist I, but I figured if it was good enough for Marcel Duchamp last century with his readymade "Fountain," why not have a go (no pun intended) and reprise it here. This particular plumbing fixture resides in the mens room of the Dogwood Gourmet in Baltimore.  Elegant marble tile, rose tones and dramatic lighting raise the lowly pissoir to new heights, creating a theatrical aquatic display. 

I'll be out of the studio for a couple of days.  Look for new work on Saturday.

"Harley-Davidson"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 10”

So much for taking it easy after my operation.  The painting you see here may prove to be what is known in artistic parlance, as a "unique" -  a unicorn, dodo bird, an Ivory-billed woodpecker, the last of its kind.  I don't know what possessed me to undertake such a painting other than my love of motorcycles and needing to ramp up the wow factor after my being away from the easel.  Do I like this painting?  Most definitely.  Would I do another one? I'm not sure.  Although I am delighted with the finished product, the application of paint was tedious; observe, mix, dab, repeat.  No subtle glazes and bravado brushwork, merely precise placement of just the right color. Wearing an opti-visor and using 1/8th inch filberts and a lining brush is really not my thing.  I am and have always been about the creative process, not necessarily the final product. If the process is good the resulting product will follow suit.  Perhaps that is why I like painting people and animals. There is room for the brush to interpret. Maybe painting inanimate objects isn't in me.  I have always been a figure and portrait painter.  I like my work looking back at me as I go along.  OK, maybe oysters don't exactly gaze out of the canvas, but you get my drift.  So enjoy the Harley.  Which is all I can do with my own Harley - look at it, as I am not allowed to lift it off the side stand for another 4 weeks.  I couldn't have had my appendix out in the dead of winter.

So close

Nurse Susan says I have over done it today and so I must wait until tomorrow to finish the Harley painting.  She is probably right, as usual.  Oh well.   Check back, it is a very strong piece. 

"Cold Comfort"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 5” x 7”

Here is another painting for the upcoming "Fish and Fowl" show at the Ice House Gallery in Berkeley Springs, WV.   I am putting it on the Daily Painters site as "contact me for availability" since it is possible that they may swim back upstream to the studio after the show.

"The Cat's in the Bag"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

I still had the notes on my palette set to paint JJ so I thought I'd add a touch of whimsey and go a bit graphic with this one.  There is a painter in New Orleans named George Rodrique who has made a handsome living painting his dog Tiffany, aka the Blue Dog.  His "Blue Dog" series is good fun and while I am not attempting to emulate him here, there is an amusing similarity. I like the fact that it is a total opposite of his (i.e. orange instead of blue, cat instead of dog).  I should paint something completely different tomorrow, JJ is getting a big head from all this attention. 

"Cat and Mouse"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

This is my cat JJ's favorite place to sleep. In the afternoon the western sun shines through the office window and warms the great mahogany desk and the small laptop, already warm from its own power, becomes a relaxing pillow. Needless to say, my wife has to coax him off with treats to resume work. More often she will use the downstairs desktop, rather than disturb him. She used to leave the laptop open, but that resulted in him sending odd e-mails in secret, cat code that only his feline friends could decipher. Leaving the laptop half-closed was no good either. It took him no time to figure out how to close it all the way, resulting in turning off the computer; oops, where was I? He is a great cat and a fantastic mouser to boot. He has found quite a few in his forays into the basement. I couldn't resist the visual pun here.

"Hummingbird"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 5” x 5

I have paid my dues to the appendix gods and have laid about for a week being a slug. I am happy to report that I am on the mend and able to stand for a few hours at a time. That said, I decided to start off small. It doesn't get much smaller than a hummingbird, so here she is, as seen from my kitchen window. I am endlessly amazed at the aerial acrobatics of these tiny creatures. They are quite territorial and protect their turf with the intensity of a World War I Sopwith Camel dogfight.

Technical Difficulty

Standing in for Mark for this post is his wife.  You know, the one who so often looks at one of his finished paintings and says, "I love it all, but for that little splash of white there," to which Mark replies, "That's exactly what makes it sing to me!"  And I usually come around to appreciating the splash of white in time, though occasionally the splash of white will be softened to appease me.

Mark is currently in the hospital, having had his appendix removed Friday afternoon.  Pesky little things, appendix.  What purpose do they serve, anyway?  If you can do just as well without them, then why the heck do we have them in the first place?  Be that as it may, my poor boy's appendix was quite angry - I believe the semi-technical term is "hot."  And so the hospital is where he will remain until Monday.  I don't know how much time he will have to recover before being able to stand in front of an easel for hours on end.  I would suggest you will likely see a few small, simple pieces in another week or so.  It may be a while before he can tackle anything as complex as the hounds.  And so this site is temporarily on hold due to technical difficulties.  Please keep Mark in your thoughts and I know he'd love to hear from you via comments to this post.

"Foxhounds"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

Here is the finished painting.  I am happy to report that freezing one's palette does work to keep the paint from drying out or skinning over, even earth pigments.  You learn something new every day.  I read this tip (no, not from Heloise) on the comments page of someone's blog.  Whoever mentioned this, I am grateful.  I used to submerge my palette in a tray of water, which also works but it is not ideal. 

Call it perverse, but while I painted this piece I was listening to a recording of the original Broadway production of CATS.  Anna, who is on my lap as I type this, thinks it was purrfectly fine.  She does question my masculinity on occasion; show tunes and all that.

Midnight 
Not a sound from the pavement 
Has the moon lost her memory 
She is smiling alone 
In the lamplight 
The withered leaves collect at my feet 
And the wind begins to moan 
Memory
All alone in the moonlight 
I can dream of the old days
Life was beautiful then 
I remember the time I knew what happiness was 
Let the memory live again 

Every street lamp seems to beat 
A fatalistic warning 
Someone mutters and the street lamp sputters
And soon it will be morning 

Daylight 
I must wait for the sunrise 
I must think of a new life 
And I mustn't give in 
When the dawn comes 
Tonight will be a memory too 
And a new day will begin 

Burnt out ends of smoky days 
The stale cold smell of morning 
A street lamp dies, another night is over 
Another day is dawning 

Touch me, 
It's so easy to leave me 
All alone with the memory 
Of my days in the sun 
If you touch me, 
You'll understand what happiness is 
Look, a new day has begun... 

work in progress - "Foxhounds"

In keeping with the dog days of summer, I have started this painting of a group of fox hounds waiting to be blessed on Thanksgiving morning in Glyndon, Maryland.  Here is a rare glimpse of my working process.  I am going to try and freeze my palette to preserve my mixed pigments.  Look for the finished painting here tomorrow.  

"Let sleeping dogs lie"

Oil on linen mounted on birch wood panel - 8” x 10”

What is it about a patch of sunlight that draws an animal to it like moths to a flame? My cats JJ and Anna live for these hot spots. On any sunny morning, the competition to see who gets to sit in the chair by the east window in the kitchen begins, each cat vying for that precious patch of solar real estate.  My studio faces due north, so there is no direct sunlight, much to their dismay. When we were looking to buy our first house years ago, the realtor would remark about the wonderful sunlit room that would make the perfect studio. Perfect for getting a tan, perhaps. The reason north light is great for painting is that it is cool, constant and indirect. That beacon of bright sunlight is not a welcome guest in the studio, reflecting its warmth off the oak floor and onto my canvas. My studio has two huge north facing windows and skylights which are a wonderful source of illumination. However, two oval windows, high on the east and west walls, alert me to brave Helios' presence. The west window I can easily close off by going into the loft and covering it with a makeshift cardboard disk. The East window is more of a challenge. Closing this aperture requires a long telescoping pole and some dexterity to place the disk just right. 

The Wiktionary (sorry Daniel Webster) describes the expression "Let sleeping dogs lie" as thus - To leave things as they are; especially, to avoid restarting an old argument; to leave disagreements in the past. - Eventually, they decided to let sleeping dogs lie and not discuss the matter any further.  I have found this to be sound advice in matters domestique.

These sleepy-heads belong to my friend Anne. In case you are interested, she tells me she has two new litters waiting in the wings.  You can see them at:  www.piperspuppies4u.com

"Paris Carousel - Blue Manes"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

This painting is the first in a series of four  6" x 8" paintings gleaned from a carousel in Paris.  The fun twisted chrome poles are a challenge to paint and add a bit of sparkle.  All of the horses in this series have different colored manes and different attitudes, which should be fun to group together as a team.  My daily painting site is embarking on a month long theme - "Tribute to a Beautiful Earth; celebrating and conserving our planet with dailypainters.com" You may have to wait until September to grab the brass ring. 

"The Hunt Master" - Study for "Blessing of the Hounds"

Oil on museum quality archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”  

Everyone has their Thanksgiving traditions.  Some folks, still in their pajamas, watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on television, Bloody Mary in hand.  Others are busy getting the bird in the oven; the center-piece of a glorious holiday feast for family and friends.  In a field across from a small stone church in Glyndon, Maryland, a festive band of merry men and women, horse and hound, prepare to pit themselves against that cunning little creature, the fox.  With much pomp and circumstance, horse and rider congregate, greet fellow equestrians, pose for the crowd and await the arrival of the clergy to come and bless the hounds. The tradition of the Blessing of Hounds dates back to the eighth century and marks the Feast of St. Hubert (the patron saint of hunters) and the formal opening of the hunting season. Once consecrated, they make chase across the countryside in pursuit of their prey. The baying of the hounds, the ringing of trumpets, the colorful costumes and pageantry is all pure theatre.   

"Amy in the Studio"

Oil on double primed grey board - 11" x 17"

Everyone dreams of finding a lost Rembrandt at a yard sale, an undiscovered Vermeer in a dusty corner of a thrift store, a forgotten Dürer etching sandwiched in the pages of a second hand book. While this painting of Amy isn't quite so lofty, it did resurface today, clipped to a forgotten drawing board, to help me in my hour of need. You see, I was having "one of those days" in the studio today where I just couldn't focus. Being an artist is a dream job, if you can call it work. There are worse fates than being excited about what you do on a day to day basis, and can make a living off of it. However, the business of making and selling art is more than standing at the easel and I had let a lot of the prep and paperwork slide. Today I decided to clear away the piles of unread mail, answer some long overdue correspondence and reevaluate the hundreds of files of ever-growing reference material.   

  I'm not sure of the date of this oil sketch.  It is a couple of years old.  I found it clipped to a drawing board behind a stack of paintings.  I remember deliberately painting it on a piece of primed grey backing board so I wouldn't be tempted to get fussy with it (Oops, oh well).  The loose, sketchy nude is the Holy Grail for me.  Oh, how I envy those who can splash around in the paint.  It is the curse of the ex-photo-realist; the inability to fully let go and have fun with the paint, come what may. Though not exactly archival, I figured if cardboard was good enough for Toulouse-Lautrec, it is good enough for me.  If you arrived here from the daily painters site to consider buying this piece, you should consider this: the image is 11" x 17" painted on a 16" x 20" board.  It can be framed and matted or cut down and framed edge to edge.  Some framers are loathe (and rightly so) to cut up someone else's artwork. I will me glad to do that before it leaves the studio.

Here is what it looks like in the raw, as it were.: 

"Half and Half"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 6” x 8”

What can I say about a proper pint of Guinness and Harp? When done right, it is a thing of beauty. A half-and-half is often just another name for a Black & Tan. However, in most North American Irish pubs, the Bass/Guinness combination is called a Black & Tan, while the Harp/Guinness combination is called a Half-and-Half. Either way, it is delicious. Two days ago I painted a black and tan dachshund named Henry.  I knew there was a reason I liked the little guy. Could this be a theme?  Of my two studio cats - one is black and tan; a frail but beautiful 18 year old, seal-point Siamese queen named Anna.  The other, J.J., a foundling white and ginger American shorthair, is a half and half - half angel/half monster (mostly angel). After yesterday's technically challenging sprite, this painting was a walk in the park; a fun, colorful exercise.  I even broke out my ancient trowel palette knife to add some color and texture to An Poitin Stil's worn wooden table.    Sláinte!

Study for "Nymph"

Oil on museum quality archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 9” x 12”

"Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remember'd..."

My studio is surrounded by forest and I have often taken models into the woods to play "Nymphs and Satyrs." It is not an ancient woods but old enough to have some interesting flora and fauna. I like to contrast the warmth of the flesh against the lush, green foliage. A few years back, I was taking a photography class at The Maryland Institute College of Art called "The Nude in the Landscape." The instructor needed a place to hold the last class and I volunteered my ten acres of property, on which there is a small stream, a hidden glade and a lot of privacy. It worked out well and a good time was had by all. My nearest neighbor was out of town (I think). He would have been amused to see four nude models and seventeen photographers frolicking in the back yard. One student in the class thought it would be nice to have a model sprawled out in a lovely patch of vines down in the glade. He got some beautiful images of her, the three shiny leaves catching the sun just right. It's a pity these city boys don't know poison ivy when they see it - Ouch. I know Marianne will think twice before posing in the woods again.

Ch. Pipers Mr. Longfellow

Oil on museum quality archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 8” x 8”

Although Mr. Longfellow, A.K.A. Henry, is a star performer in the show ring, his poise and posture propelling him to 16th best dachshund in the country, he is loathe to perform for the camera. It took a lot of perseverance to get him to acquiesce to pose for his portrait. He and his cohorts reside in Ohio and provide service and amusement for their owner Anne. Many of the canine portraits seen on these pages have been her dogs. If you are entertaining the idea of having a dachshund or whippet companion, you owe it to yourself to check out her website: http://piperspuppies4u.com/ It is no surprise that painting animals has captured my imagination lately. Indeed, I have often tried to convince a portrait client to include the family pet into a portrait of a child to give the painting some added interest. A friend sent an e-mail the other day saying - "What's with all the dogs?" To her I can only say - "Get used to it; I like painting dogs." I have been using the daily paintings as a way of trying to figure out what it is that truly gets the creative juices flowing. This is one subject that I have a lot of fun with.

@#%&*! mail server!!!

If anyone has sent me queries about commissions, photos, questions about paintings, etc., recently, please send them again.  Last night everything in my markadamsstudio account - all my saved mail, all my new mail, my address book; everything, was gone.  The account is still open and I am getting new mail but it was a clean wipe of the account info.  Anne - Your pics are in a separate file on my desktop {;-)> so don't worry.  Everyone else might want to follow up if you haven't heard from me regarding your question/commission. 

I am taking the weekend off so check back on Monday or Tuesday.

Post script - My web-host solved the problem this morning and all my files are back - yippee!

Study for "Izzie"

Oil on museum quality, archival ampersand gessobord™ panel - 12” x 16”

After yesterday's "Gimlet," with all its tediousness, today I allowed myself to splash around and play with this portrait of Izzie, the Pembroke Welsh Corgi.  I eschewed the blending brush in favor of a loaded bristle, pushing color into whites and generally laying it down in a Manet-like flatness.  I am honing in on a more finished portrait of her for the future and used this to reacquaint myself with the breed.  I had a Corgi myself, many years ago, named Pippin (no surprise).  He, too, would sit like this; his feet splayed comically out behind him.