End of the Line
The Storm's Edge
The Black Mass
In the Passing
Le Petit Roi
The Harry S Price
The Silent Sentry
The Silent Sanctuary
The "First Born" ("Jennifer") celebrates life; and the joy, wonder, and sense of a miracle that is associated with the first born.
Edge of the Meadow
"Powder Horn" is a celebration of the moment and the thrill of a downhill run. The background was painted with the same exuberance. It was painted in rapidly using every tool at my disposal, the handle of a brush, a curved exacto blade, fingers, forearm, etc. The skier was kept deliberately small to heighten the abstract and the overwhelming feeling of the great outdoors. I've always enjoyed the times skiing which were too few and I fully understand how ski bums are made. I am in awe of how effortlessly some people ski. It truly is the proverbial poetry in motion.
Years later some of those same feelings would bubble to the surface while cross-country skiing with my son Matt. He wanted to lead the way; and I began to marvel at how proficient he was becoming with each stride. Suddenly there was no time, only the here and now. It was one of those perfect moments.
I would write about this in "Cross-country."
Recently Matt would surprise Jane and I with an anniversary sky trip to "Snowshoe.” I titled a drawing of a skier in memory of the trip, "Down the Widow Maker."
Tribute to Swede
Tribute to Swede (detail)
Prisoner of the Past
Tools of the Trade (Drawing)
Tools of the Trade
A Dream of Castles
The beautiful track from the CD, Winter Solstice IV, seems to orchestrate the red ribbons. Dancing in the breeze, they celebrate the change of season she loves so much. Like the princess of her domain, she decorates inside and out for all the holidays. I tease her that our house resembles a department store in flux. She reminds me every year that the snow under certain conditions looks like the crystals on the Dickens North Pole Village.
A flowerpot awaits her magic touch. Her morning coffee will awaken the garden bench, slumbering under a blanket of snow in the spring. I am overwhelmed by her zest and love of life. She has taught me to enjoy and appreciate the simple things. When I look at this scene, there is a twinge of sadness when I realize that if it weren’t for The Yankee Clipper, the sled from her childhood and a bit of serendipity, I might have never known her. When someone fills a corner of your soul, it is a hard thought to bear, and I thank God for Jane.
I hope with the painting, Crystal Palace, I have conveyed to some degree those moments in your life when you are aware, those slivers of heaven, those moments of prayer.
Along the Way
Last Flight of the Thunderbird
The “Last Flight of the Firebird” is a depiction of the passion for baseball. It is the sharing of memories, hopes, and dreams, of fathers, brothers and sons, about the greatest game on the face of the earth. There is the suggested lament of legends long gone, of a baseball card collection lost, and the joy of a baseball card found. There is the realization that a kid you played sandlot baseball with made it to the majors and achieved a piece of the American Dream. Above all, it is a “hats off salute” to our heros, especially Al Kaline who exemplified the way the game should be played on and off the field. Last, but not least, it is a thanks to my sons for affording me the cover to coach a little, catch a little, and be a boy a little longer.
The boys are gone now, and the pitching mound is overgrown. The Firebird has flown. A tattered backstop blows in the wind. Listen closely! Not far from the empty nest is heard the February refrain, “Pitchers and catchers, report.” And the boy in us all stirs again.
Priestess of Autumn
Days of Dohanos
Soul of the Wildwood
This was one of two paintings lost on route to an American Watercolor Society jury. If you see it somewhere, please let me know! It is missed.
Slivers of Heaven
Sea of Daffodills
Children of the Vestibule
This is a scan of a newspaper clipping about the painting.