… when a local artist accused me of painting wallpaper, I had my first glimpse of raising the bar. Welcome to New Mexico kid! The home of the big boys and truly exceptional art.
An Uncomfortable But Compelling Push-Pull
… it was with some incredible hubris, if not utter disrespect, that I’d made these plans. I knew nothing about Truchas–its rich and complicated history, its heritage, its people, its simple AGE (the village was founded in 1754).
Of Transitions and the Place Between
A birthing that necessitated pain, as all birth does, was taking place and I was in it. I was coming into ME. And my paintings reflected all of it–the growth, the pain and the confusion.
Stripped Down and Broken Open: Giving Birth to Art
… this is where I caught my first true glimpse of me. THIS is where the abstracts were born. But I wouldn’t fully understand it until this very moment as I write it out to you.
So You Think Artists Are Lazy?
As most of you know, I didn’t paint for 26 years after college, where I was a painting and drawing major and a printmaking minor. What you may not know is that coming back to painting took a tremendous commitment and no small amount of effort.
Why Aren’t My Paintings PRETTY For God’s Sake?
There is a real story to tell–about where I was as an artist BEFORE I came to Truchas and AFTER Truchas. It is a story of fences and horses and grasses and how they changed me.
A Gift of Blackbirds
They visit every day and I’ve come to think of them as black-leather-jacketed street toughs–sort of birdie bad boys. I know that’s not fair. But they’re bigger than the other birds and when they arrive everybody else disappears.
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