I am honored to announce that my painting Blue Deep was selected as the cover art for Sue Horowitz's latest CD, Notes From the Garrison, which is now available. Sue is a gifted singer and songwriter, and, because you can't help but smile when you hear her music, and given that all too often smiles seem to be in short supply, I heartily recommend that you listen to her music regularly. Full disclosure: she is also my sister-in-law. Family, music and art are three very fine things to put together.
Materials
I use archival quality paints, pastels, pencils, and inks. Papers and boards are acid-free and designed to stand up to multiple layers of pastel, paint or, sometimes, both. The decorative papers in my collages come from various specialty paper craftspeople, and are also acid-free and fade-resistant.
No Regrets
From the time I was old enough to hold a pencil or crayon, no piece of paper was safe. No matter how small or crinkled or marked up, there was always room for something more. I loved going to the art room in elementary school, and took every art class I could fit into my schedule in junior high and high school. I built up an extensive portfolio in a wide variety of media of drawings, paintings, illustrations and designs which I kept in two huge folders. I painted scenery for college theater productions and continued to add to my folders. And then…I went to law school. I practiced for several years and loved it (most of it). I raised a family and have absolutely loved it without reservation. And, from time to time, no matter what I was doing, I would come back to the pencils and the paper and the paints and the canvas for a short while. But some things never really let go of you, and when you find that, conversely, you can’t let go of them, attention must be paid. When something has been as integral to your life and its rhythms as making art has been to mine, eventually, you confront your list of choices. You can say farewell and accept the letting go in peace. Or you can just let it go and reconcile yourself to the fact that you are inviting regret to walk alongside you for however long you have left to walk. Or…you give it its due. I have chosen the last of these options. Rather than let my drawing table and easels continue to collect dust and stand as ghostly sentinels in an art studio too long pressed into service as a storage room, I have heeded the rebuke implicit in their misuse as closet organizers. These silent fixtures stand as monuments to my neglect of a calling. Or at least the opportunity to discover if it is a calling. A calling that reflects the Universe’s kindness in allowing me to make art with love and passion. A calling that honors me with the gift of an opportunity to share my vision and the chance to experience the joy that accompanies even the most halting, imprecise, and unschooled acts of creativity. So, there will be no peaceful farewell. No Regret-as-boon-companion for the rest of my days. It’s back to the earliest and simplest calling of all. To pick up the pencil (brush, pen, knife), and feel the rush that comes from knowing that no piece of paper (canvas, board, cloth) is safe.