"Art from the Heart" vs "Commissioned Art"

There are really so few things that baffle and (to be honest) frustrate me as an artist. I am by nature a very “even keel” type of person, so when something stands out as “irritating”, it’s kind of a big deal for me. See, I regularly come across people that have a very set view of who and what an artist is (even before they meet me). No one likes to be pre-judged and I guess I’m no exception.

See, every now and then, I have people visit my studio and I can tell they like my work. For instance, they may hang out for fifteen to twenty minutes browsing slowly, leave and have lunch, then come back and browse even more slowly. That is usually a pretty good sign someone is genuinely interested in my work. Most of the time, behavior like this eventually results in a sale of one of my paintings or the commissioning of something specific. But every now and then, the couple at this point will look pained. Interested but pained. “Do you have all your work displayed or do you have something else in storage?” they’ll ask. I explain that basically, I don’t have storage. If I need to store paintings, my prices are too high. They smile, and then I explain that if they like something but it’s the wrong size, I can repaint it the right size for them. “No, we’re looking for a painting that is 36 x 48, probably a summer scene but you don’t really have anything that will work for our space”. “Well,” I explain, “if you have a photo you’d like me to use, or if you can give me an idea of something specific that you’d like to see, you can commission a painting based on that idea and size. I don’t charge any more for commissions, and I guarantee your satisfaction with what I paint and I do free shipping as a thank you.”

But then…

“Oh, we would rather just check in whenever we’re back in Asheville and see what you have available. We don’t want to dictate to the artist what they paint. We’d much rather have something that comes from your heart, not ours”.

“…my heart and joy are in every single painting I’ve ever painted.”

You may well think “Oh, that’s so sensitive! What a kind person that is!” Yes, probably. But that drives me crazy. It rattles me because that assumes that the art that comes from my own head will be of higher quality or have “more life and energy” in it than if it comes from the heart of the client. To be clear, the idea behind all the commissions I’ve ever done have come from my clients. But the heart and energy in the piece is from me. I don’t care at all where the idea comes from. I love to paint. May I just be honest? Look, if a client gives me a photo as inspiration for a painting, it saves me all sorts of time hunting down a good photo to use as inspiration for my next piece. No one who has commissioned a painting from me has received a lesser quality painting because it was commissioned by them. Honestly, my heart and joy are in every single painting I’ve ever painted. I simply love painting and I don’t care if that seed idea comes from my own head or from yours. The painting will always come from my heart.

Okay, time for a cup of herbal tea I think. I feel much better now.

More Questions and Answers

A few weeks ago, several of my Facebook followers asked questions about me and my art background. Since then, I’ve been slowly making my way through the answers. Here is the final installment (for now) of answers. But…if something I say here sparks another question, just ask. Thanks!

Did you grow up in Asheville? If not, how did you find it and why did you move there?

I did NOT grow up in Asheville. I tell people around here that I grew up in a town just south of Atlanta (look on a map...Los Angeles is latitudinally just south of Atlanta). I grew up on the west coast. After Joy and I married, we moved to Washington State (the most beautiful place we ever lived) and then crossed the country with our dog and four kids for an adventure...to discover the east coast. Over the next few years, we spent time in Virginia, North Carolina and Florida, but we kept coming back to the mountains of North Carolina for vacation. Several years ago, I got a job with a company that allowed me to work from home, so at that point, "home" could be wherever we wanted it to be, and that was Asheville. We the town because it has such a great vibe and because the people here seemed to celebrate everything outdoorsy. I love that. At that point in time though, I had no idea there was a River Arts District. Once I discovered that, wow...that changed everything.

How did you find your studio?

I was first offered (for free) a six foot wall space in the studio of a friend of mine (Phil DeAngelo). He had told me that if I sold something, I could kick in something for the rent, but if not, the space was gratis. Who does that?? Well, Phil did so I took him up on it and never had to skip a month of rent. A couple years later, I was making about half the $$ from art sales as I was with my "real" job, so I cut down to half time at my job. Within the six months, my art income surpassed the normal annual income of my "real" job, so I quit altogether and never once looked back. A couple years later, the studio Phil and I were sharing was just too crowded, so Phil helped me find my current studio in the Pink Dog Creative building. I love this studio. It's HUGE and it's so nice to be able to spread out and really make it mine. So I've been there for the last six years and am about to sign on for another five.

What kinds of other jobs did you have before you became an artist?

I was an industrial designer fresh out of college, then began a job painting backgrounds for Hanna Barbera cartoons (remember Scooby Doo?). That was an awesome job. But then the company had a fallout with the union and because I was the new guy, I was let go. Then I was a sign designer (which was a sort of nice combination of the design background I got in college and the art background I got at Hanna Barbera). It was a lot of fun really. When we moved to Florida, I became a project manager. At this point, may I interject a helpful suggestion to anyone hiring for a project manager position? Do not ever, ever hire an artist. My brain was designed to focus on one thing hard. Project managers (I found out) focus on several things simultaneously. That is impossible. I was the worst project manager. I felt sorry for my employers. They were kind enough to not lay me off, but I did quit after a couple years of job hell. I think they were probably as happy about my decision as I was. At that point, I went back to sign design because it was easy for me. It was at this point I found a national sign company that would let me work from home. Then I discovered Asheville. For the rest of the story, see the answer to my previous question.

That's it for now. Thanks for your questions! And if you ever have any more, please just let me know. That way, I don't have to wrack my brain regarding what I'll blog about! :)

What does Diversity have to do with honest artwork?

The photo above is my view as I paint. Not bad, right? So this morning, I took a moments break between art projects I was working on and stared out at these trees. And it occurred to me that there are uncountable varieties of foliage just right here in this one scene. They are all broadly the same thing (they are all plants). Most in this photo are more specifically similar in that they are trees (but several varieties). The trees do not make the shorter shrubs look ugly, and the shrubs seem quite comfortable growing alongside the trees without feeling insecure because they’re not as large. Pardon me please, I know I’m anthropomorphizing here, but it really hit me this morning: Diversity when living closely together is really beautiful. That’s at the heart of what makes nature so beautiful as opposed to a man-made garden. Beautiful, natural reality is incredibly diverse, and if what horticulturalists tell us is true, a diverse natural environment will be a healthier environment. If that is the key to real beauty as I suspect, it makes me wonder why we (why I) personally gravitate to people who are just like me. I find my tribe (of my own ethnicity, religion and culture) and then I “otherize” everyone else. Doing that seems so natural to us as human beings. But if there’s a lesson to be learned from nature; if the way nature “does it” applies to us humans too, then I suspect the more we maintain our differences but live our lives immeshed with people who do not look or talk or think like us, the closer results will look like real, natural beauty. But the more we huddle with people that are just like us, the closer we get to what is mundane, boring and even ugly.

“To the extent I mimic in my artwork what I see in front of me here as I paint, to that extent my artwork will be beautiful.”

Imagine a summer hillside panorama — mountains covered with trees. Got it? Okay, now imagine someone hands you a jumbo box of crayons to do a sketch, what color would you grab to depict the trees? Green? Really? Look again. To the left, those trees are in shadow and are almost black. Behind them, the sun is shining bright on something that looks almost yellow. Beside that is a bright green maple tree. As you look farther off in the distance, the more blue green the trees look and in the far off distance, the mountains look light blue gray (although they’re covered with the same green trees that are right in front of you). And everywhere, there are thousands and thousands of wildflowers and uncountable shrubs of various kinds. This is wilderness. And this is what actual, honest real beauty looks like: Awesome diversity of life, living closely together, maintaining their own individuality, all a part of the whole of exquisite beauty.

To the extent I mimic in my artwork what I see in front of me here as I paint, to that extent my artwork will be beautiful. So I notice the intricate differences in shades of color as it moves from left to right across the canvas, and grab different colors of paint to minutely adjust those colors. (As a side note, I never even use the same color blue in a sky — the color of the sky even on a crystal clear day, varies from left to right and top to bottom of what you see. To make my scene look “realistic”, I have to use a variety of colors even to paint something as simple as a blue sky.)

I long to live in a world that is really beautiful. And looking out at nature, I really think God left some clues how to create a society that is really beautiful: Diversity of life, living closely together, maintaining their own individuality, all a part of the whole of exquisite beauty. That sounds so awesome. I can’t make anyone go along with me but if I myself can keep this lesson in front of me for a while and be shaped by it, I think I will be a better, happier (and beautiful??) person.

And the Next Blog Post is...

I’ve been blogging since 2016, and to me, that’s amazing. I had no idea I had that much to talk about. When I opened up my art studio here in Asheville, I was told in the beginning that blogging was important, so I’ve tried to be consistent but recently I’ve had a had a hard time coming up with an interesting topic. I’m an artist, not a rocket scientist or a biotech engineer, so what I do in my art studio (talking to clients, hanging new paintings in my art gallery, talking with other artists in Asheville’s River Arts District, coming up with new ideas for new creative endeavors), while a lot of fun for me, does not seem like it would be interesting to anyone but myself. Is answering another question about what the “shiny stuff” is on top of my paintings “blog worthy”? I don’t know. But I suspect that just because something is an “everyday” and “normal” task to me as an artist, does not necessarily mean those things are not blog worthy. So…

“…what would YOU like to know?”

So rather than wracking my brain for something that I think might be interesting to a reader, I’m going to just ask the reader what would be interesting to them. I am an artist…an oil painter…I made up a technique I call “Dialuminism”. Dear reader, what else would you like to know? I’ll still come up with topics I would like to explore, but I really do want to regularly be asking gallery and website visitors what THEY would find interesting.

Anyone want to start??

"Mullaghmore": The Story Behind the Painting

“Mullaghmore” (34” x 54”)

A few years ago, Joy and I had the privilege of visiting some dear friends in Ireland. They had moved from the central part of the country to Donegal (on the northern coast). While there, we visited historic villages and castles, forgotten and remote coves, did some amazing hiking on Europes tallest sea cliffs and rented bikes (discovering that riding a bike in the rain can be fun!). This was all in addition to spending some very pleasant hours chatting with our friends.

“I discovered I was just another ignorant American…”

One of the things they wanted to show us were the waves. Not being a surfer, I had no idea Ireland had much in the way of waves. I grew up learning to swim at Malibu and Zuma beaches in southern California, so I thought I had a pretty good standard for measuring what “surf-worthy” waves were. Oh my. I discovered I was just another ignorant American.

The beach we were taken to was called Mullaghmore and aside from the really beautiful setting on the rocky northwest coast of one of my favorite countries in the world, this place had waves. Like MONSTER waves. Like 60’+ waves. I couldn’t believe how powerful the sea was when it decided to seemingly let out all it’s wrath on the rocky coast of Mullaghmore. I also couldn’t believe anyone would want to get out INTO that water (it is really, really cold). The emotions in my head upon seeing the sea that day there included awe and (honestly) fear. These were truly monster waves. So powerful and majestic and raw.

So when Joy and I spent a few days on the coast here in North Carolina a couple weeks ago, I thought of Ireland. Even though the waves at the outer banks were minuscule compared to Mullaghmore, just seeing the power of the sea again made me want to create a painting that encapsulated that power. Asheville isn’t known for it’s waves, being eight hours from the coast, but as I’ve expressed before, sometimes what makes something a good idea worth doing is determined simply by the desire to do it and the fun it creates inside the heart of the creator. This wave, entitled “Mullaghmore” was worth it for me.

Sometimes, just "having fun" is a good enough reason

“Into Mystery” (36” x 28”)

If you’ve read much of this blog (THANK YOU!), you’ve probably heard me talk about why I paint what I paint. If you are an artist and you want to do that as a full-time job, you have to sell your work. This is not rocket science, right? There definitely is a place in the world for art that shocks and disturbs, but that doesn’t sell easily to tourists visiting my studio in Asheville’s River Arts District, wanting to bring home something that reminded them of their visit to the mountains of North Carolina. So, MOST of the time, I paint either generic scenes (that could remind the viewer of ANYWHERE) or scenes that are reminiscent of this part of North Carolina.

So, if you were to visit my studio (and you’re welcome to do that!), you’d find landscape paintings that are set in various themes having to do with our area. That said, about 10% of what you’d see would not fit that criteria at all. I have some seascapes and some underwater ocean scenes. Why? Because they were fun to paint (I like the ocean too). And then this week, I just finished a piece called “Into Mystery”, which is based on photos of Arizona’s Antelope Canyon. The challenge of painting a location like Antelope Canyon is that I had to figure out some way creating the thousands of lines that have been carved into the sandstone by immeasurable years of wind and rain. My goal here was to create those sweeping lines with texture. This piece was carved, smoothed, covered with metallic leaf, colorized with oil paint and finished with a single layer of resin. Personally, I’m really happy with this one. It was a real challenge but I feel happy with the results.

This painting, if nothing else, highlights my skill

because it was really difficult.

So, how does this piece appeal to some random visitor to Asheville, looking for something to bring home as a souvenir of their time here? Well…it probably doesn’t, and that’s okay. This painting, if nothing else, highlights my skill because it was really difficult. And if putting my skill out there front and center is all this piece does, that’s fine. It’s done it’s job. And who knows…we do get Asheville visitors from out west! So hey, if you’re from Arizona, give me a call! I do free shipping!

The Best Painting Delivery Ever...

Hitting the “reset” button

A couple months ago, I was commissioned to paint a rather large painting. Because I normally pay for shipping charges for my clients (a tangible way to offer my thanks for their business), I knew this piece would be pretty expensive to send to it’s new home in Denver, CO. When I actually checked the FedEx website for pricing, I was pretty shocked at the several hundred dollars price tag for shipping, and so…I looked at Joy and asked if she was up for a road trip.

I don’t know about everyone else, but this year especially, with all the stress of a business that was closed down for three months, trying to stay clear of Covid-19, and constantly dealing with the chaos of the upcoming election…e really needed a rest. Creativity demands to be fed with peace and adventure. You cannot expend what you don’t have inside your heart and mind. Well, that was my way of justifying taking a road trip to Colorado (and adding a few extra days onto said road trip, as long as we were already there!). So we packed up the painting securely and strapped it to the top of our car, then headed three days west.

After helping my clients install the piece, Joy and I headed north a couple hours to Laramie, Wyoming, and we spent nearly a week exploring the mountains, canyons and lakes in the area. Our daily routine was to hike a few hours and then scout out a cool place to plant our camping chairs, have a picnic and spend several hours just sitting and reading. Enjoying the absolute quiet. Listening to the autumn breeze as it rattled the leaves of the golden aspen trees all around us.

It was amazing.

We talked about it afterwards and we both could actually feel ourselves soaking it it. My gosh. I felt like a dry sponge immersed in sweet, clear water.

So whether or not the need for peace and adventure was actually a “need” or a “want”, I don’t really care. I’m content to let someone else figure that one out. It felt amazing. And by the time we were headed back home to North Carolina, I could hardly wait to start painting again. I’ve never felt that way about any other job I’ve ever head, so I think the time in Colorado and Wyoming was definitely worth it.

Story Behind the Painting: "Sundown over the Blue Ridge"

Last summer, my wife Joy and I hiked to the top of Max Patch, a barren mountaintop right at the crest of the Appalachian mountains. It’s about an hours drive from our house in Asheville but we LOVE going here with a picnic dinner to watch the sunset. You can see for nearly a hundred miles from the summit of Max Patch. It’s amazing. 

So last summer, we spread the picnic blanket, lit the candle (great way to class up a mountaintop date), pulled out the rotisserie chicken, potato salad, three bean salad and a bottle of wine. And Pims (Per Joy, you have to have Pims for desert when on one of these mountaintop dates).  

It was a perfect evening. It was a hot, sweaty day down in Asheville, but up here, Joy had a sweater on. Picture a nearly cloudless afternoon, watching the sun set over the horizon. With every moment, the sunlight grew more and more golden, then orange and then just hovered on the horizon and then…show’s over. We sat there and chatted, enjoying the cool breeze until it was starting to get dark. 

Picture a nearly cloudless afternoon,

watching the sun set over the horizon…

A couple weeks later, I was at the studio painting and a guest came in asking for a commission. They’d found a photo from (wait for it….) Max Patch and wanted me to paint it for them, which I very happily did. This was one I wish I could have kept, because it wasn’t just a nice painting (in my opinion), but it recalled a memory. I’m always telling people interested in a commission to look through their photos from their favorite vacations. I can paint them! And that memory infused that artwork with power. Crazy huh? If my artwork can have the power to call someone in this (at present) crazy world back to a place of joy and peace, that’s almost spiritual. I love that! 

Anyway, for me personally, that’s the power this particular painting has for me.

Cure for Covid blues

As an artist in Asheville’s River Arts District, a goal of mine is to journal in my blog on a weekly basis, and I love it when the subject matter is supplied to me by a visitor to my art studio. So, thank you Ian and Jackie from Jacksonville, Florida, who commented (as best as I can remember, something like this:  “You obviously enjoy depicting scenes of tranquility and peace. But this year is anything but tranquil and peaceful. What do you do in your head to keep painting these scenes?” 

A gift of complete rest from toil.

Oh man. That was a really good question. This year (especially this year), I have to take time to rest my body, mind and soul. The ancient Hebrews had a concept of Sabbath and I really love it, though I didn’t used to. I grew up thinking that “sabbath” was all about keeping rules (i.e. you couldn’t do anything fun that day). But originally, the whole concept of absolute rest was a gift — a gift of complete rest from toil. I really like that, and especially this year, and especially as an artist, I absolutely need that body, mind, soul rest. And this past week, I had it. 

Joy and I had the privilege of renting a cabin on a lake in northern Pennsylvania with our daughter Camden, her husband Joseph and their two awesomely cute and amazing children. And because of COVID, we couldn’t do anything except sit around the cabin, go for walks, ride bikes and go fishing. For a full seven days, I was teetering right on the edge of absolute relaxation and complete boredom. It was awesomely renewing. I’m addicted to the whole concept of sabbath now. Complete rest. Body, mind, soul rest. Picture that feeling of stepping into a hot tub on a 34 F night: AHHHHHHHHH. Oh yeah, that is what I’m talking about. Rest. Peace, down to the core of your soul. What a wonderful thing. 

That “Sabbath rest” is why I can keep painting what I paint. And I’m wondering if there is a way to include a few minutes of that kind of rest into every single day I live and create. I think I need to try that out. 

Where Does it Take You?

By way of confession, (it’s good for the soul) I admit it’s been way too long since I’ve blogged. This period of time is just really irksome. I’m tired of this virus lurking around. I’m rattled at how divided we’ve become as a country. It just seems like whatever we talk about with our neighbors and/or Facebook “friends” is so often framed in an attack or defense mode. I’ve been coping with the stress by just trying to ignore it all. Writing helps. Painting is my thing though. Anything creative will capture my whole attention and I then don’t think about politics or deadly disease or racist comments from various personalities on the radio. I have found that writing, creating an oil painting or listening to music will carry me to that place of focus and brain-rest. 

One of the things I have remembered during this really weird and stressful time is something my dad taught me when I was a kid and though it had to do with music (he was a musician and piano teacher), it very much affects the way I process all the arts. When I was around twelve years old, I was listening one afternoon to a tape of a collection of classical music (yes, I was a classical music nerd) and he asked me a question that I didn’t know how to answer. “Where does that take you?” I had never thought of that before. He asked me if I knew anything about the piece of music I was listening to and when I said no, he felt it was his God-appointed duty to enlighten me. He explained that the piece was entitled “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Fawn”, by Claude Debussy. He had me rewind the tape to the beginning of the piece, and told me to close my eyes and imagine the scene Debussy was describing with the music, then he turned the tape back on again. 

“Where does it take you?”

I’d never, ever listened to music like that. I usually just listened and decided whether or not I liked the piece simply based on my personal preference. I never thought in terms of “where does it take me”. My imagination was ignited and it was so much more fun than just listening to the piece. It became almost a meditation tool. I saw a fawn by itself int the dark woods, rays of sun stretching through the dark foliage. I saw streams of water, heard the birds, felt the breeze. It was amazing.

That afternoon affected the way I listen to a lot of my favorite music now. I once painted my version of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, listening to it over and over and over again, until I imagined what it “looked” like, not just what it sounded like. Where does it take you? This question changed how I listen to music and how I view artwork. When I look at a painting now (and it could be almost any painting — landscape to abstract), I really want to take the time to just stare at it and allow it to draw me in. And I ask that question: where does it take you? 

If you know anything about the way I paint, you know I purposely design an oil painting to draw people in, to engage the viewer. I don’t want it to just look nice on someone’s wall. Especially in these stressful days, I want every painting to take the viewer somewhere, somewhere nicer than here at the moment.

So take the time. Let the art — music, poetry, painting, whatever — let it take you. Where do you go? Where does it lead? Try it, and if you have a minute, comment right here and let me know. Thanks!!