Abstracts 2
Abstracts 3
Corpus Christi
Other Art Galleries
More Galleries
Link Exchange
Art History
Artists of Interest










May 28, 2010

I went to the South Texas Art Museum today.   They have a new exhibit on sculpture from the San Angelo Museum of Art.  I know very little about sculpture, but I do know the works are very contemporary and very beautiful.  The ability of the mind to create objects using reality as a departure point astounds me at times.   The ability of the artist to communicate emotions through their works also astounds me.   There is a certain Je ne sais quois about an artwork, a sort of "sweet spot" as some would say, that an artist passes in his creation of the work wherein he achieves the goal of communicating on an emotional level with the viewer, achieving something that touches the viewer's heart.  If he does not pass this point, the work remains staid, unattractive, flaccid in its emotional content.   Like a parking meter or a traffic sign it has no allure to the viewer.  It is worse than a dead animal, because a dead animal might arouse some feelings in the viewer, whether of disgust , revulsion, sorrow, or pity.  To me, a work of art that arouses nothing within the viewer is not a work of art.  Fortunately, that is far from the case with this exhibit, which showcases brilliant, moving works that occasionally inspire even a slight sense of awe.

It wasn't the new sculpture exhibit that inspired a bit of thinking today, but looking at some of the landscape paintings from the permanent collection.  I was thinking about composition, trying to recall what some artist (whose name I can't remember--Renoir? Gauguin?) said about painting "patches of color" when it occurred to me that in all of the older landscapes, the color composition is in thousands of small, randomly-arranged patches of color just as colors appear in nature.  One advance that separates modern artists with a strong sense of creativity from the hobbyists who just want to paint a pretty scene is that a modern artist will control the work's color composition arranging and changing colors as he sees fit to achieve emotional and intellectual connections with his viewer.   Doubtlessly, this is a very rudimentary concept to an artist with advanced skills, but to many novices it will be a revelation.

It is also a revelation to me, when I think about how this can be applied to abstract art.  Many abstract works seem to be thousands of  small, randomly-arranged patches of color and I think many are just that, because they arouse no emotion, no spark of intellect within me.  This is one of the challenges that abstract artists face that other artists do not.  This is a very tricky, subtle area.  How does one know how a work will impact the viewer?   

I believe that it is easier to achieve a connection with works that consist of a few colors that interact with each other to create different  types of contrast as expressed in the ideas of Johannes Itten.    In my painting, I try to be a minimalist in many ways, so that I can master the basics of painting as my skills develop.  Currently, I am trying to use only a few colors and simple forms, but I strive to use them to greatest effect.   I have a theory that the reason a few colors are more powerful in abstracts is because many colors will mix in the eye of a viewer and will average out to a single color on a subconscious level (if you are familiar with the works of Seurat and pointillism, you will know what I mean), whereas each of only a few colors will remain distinct in the viewer's mind and so will the effects of their interaction.  I believe this psychological mixing of many colors to be similar to black and white film photography,  in which the film can capture only a certain range of contrasts and tones and therefore tries to average out extremes within a scene and either creates a photo with overexposed or underexposed elements or incorrectly exposes the entire photo.   If you do not quite grasp the concept yet, try this as an experiment:  the next time you are in an art gallery, pick a selection of paintings against one wall and back off to the opposite wall or as far as you can.  Which ones stand out more from a distance--the ones comprising a few colors or the ones consisting of thousands of small, randomly-arranged patches of color?  Interestingly, if you view the works of Seurat, even though his works consist of thousands of dots of color, the colors become more intense and the figures clearer, the farther away the standpoint of the viewer.   Undoubtedly, that is way he is one of the masters:  he understood these principles and could use them to achieve the effects he wanted in the mind of the viewer.


May 2, 2010

I went down to the Art Museum of South Texas this afternoon to see what is new.   They have two very good sculpture exhibits currently, including one of glass sculptures by Judy Chicago, plus "highlights"  (read as "the usual selections when they have nothing else to display")  of their permanent collection.  The works are all good and they do make a good overview of art from south Texas, but I do wish they would acquire or someone would contribute something new to the collection. 

The museum also has an exhibit of large (like 40"x40") photographs by western photographer Donald Woodman, which is divided into two parts called "The Selling of the West" and "The West and the Rodeo".  "The Selling of the West" seems to center around the theme of how western culture is being sold off or merchandised and it's an okay exhibit.  If you are into the technical aspects of extremely large format photograph, you will probably not want to miss this.  I was into photography for a long time before I began painting and this is excellent work.

"The West and the Rodeo" was what got my attention, though not for obvious reasons.  I had gone to the museum to see if there were any new abstracts up and to see if there might be something I could learn from them.  So my mind was set to look at things from an abstractionist's perspective.  One thing I have been contemplating for some time was how to represent movement/action in an abstract painting.  This is a fascinating puzzle: how can one represent movement via a medium which does not physically move?  One solution would be to use complementary colors to create the effect of "vibrating boundaries", technically known as "chromastereopsis", as is done is a lot of op-art pieces (one of which is part of the museum's permanent collection.  This is where complementary colors are placed in a tight pattern that causes them to seem to vibrate, but that effect can be very annoying and a painting incorporating that would not necessarily be something I would want to hang in my home.

I was sitting on a bench looking at some of the older, traditional paintings of the permanent collection, but could see in the next gallery one of Woodman's photos showing a bull rider about to spill from a bull with buddy on the way to help.  Here it is downloaded from Mr. Woodman's website (I must ask that if you download it from here you obey all pertinent copyright laws with regard to its usage; I am using it for educational and commentary purposes and will not be using it in a way that violates any copyright law to the best of my knowledge):

The Rodeo and the West #21 by Donald Woodman













I looked at how action was portrayed in that photo and felt an immediacy to it as if I could have been in the ring in that split second the light struck the camera film and created that image.  Then I looked at the paintings around me, thinking about how they portrayed movement, if they tried to capture it all.     Then I looked at this painting, which is part of the museum's permanent collection and thought about how it portrayed movement in what I consider a very traditional method, essentially freezing action in a moment as if taken by a camera with a high shutter speed:

Juneteenth Revue by Antonio E. Garcia

"Juneteenth Revue" by Antonio E. Garcia, 1939
(Please respect any and all copyrights)












So what makes the rodeo photo seem more lively?  It is the skewed perspective so that the horizon is tilted, the numerous diagonal lines, and the blurred images while the "Juneteenth Revue" is from the normal perspective of a person standing to the side of the event and watching peacefully.  But why do these elements of composition transmit these feelings to the brain.  Why do our brains record one image of being of more immediate action than the other? Both are perfectly still hanging on the walls of the galleries.   Then I thought about when moments like these have been recorded on my memory.  In times when I have been caught up in some type of sudden action (I can think of one instance where myself and several others sprung over a wooden fence while being chased by an enraged and freshly-castrated bull) by mind seems to have recorded the action just as you see in the rodeo photo (partially blurred, everything out of kilter and perspective), but if I reflect on peaceful, pleasant memories, they seem to record more like "Juneteenth Revue" *everything in focus and in perspective and with a level horizon).   Perhaps there is something in our genetic or psychological composition dating from prehistoric times in which our memories of action record differently than our memories of peaceful events so that when we suddenly find ourselves in an emergency, we recognize we are in danger and can respond more quickly.

So how can this be applied to abstract art?  I will experiment with this and will probably write more on it in the future, but I can see that transmitting movement through abstract art will probably be a combination of those elements that signal action in the rodeo photo: blurred parallel lines,  (such as in the bull's hindquarters), images blurred to varying degrees, diagonal lines, and a skewed horizon (if a horizon is established) plus aggressive use of color as in chromastereopsis.

If you have any thoughts on the matter, I would love to hear them.  Send an e-mail to me.  Spam will be deleted without mercy.

By the way, the abstract work of the permanent collection that caught my attention today was  "Phenomena Imperial: Vault of Dynasty" by Paul Jenkins.  Visit his website and take note of the size of his canvases.  To see the work in the museum almost overwhelms the viewer with its size and makes one feel as if he has stepped into an abstract world where colors intertwine in a white void.



April 26, 2010

On Friday the 24th, I went to the Rialto Theater in Aransas Pass for an opening by two artists and to see what the gallery was like since I hope to be exhibiting there in March, 2011.  I was very pleasantly impressed by the clean, professional gallery and its cozy atmosphere in the lobby of a restored 1937 movie theatre.  The photos on the website do not do it justice in communicating its overall charm.  The two artists opening that night were Mary Rush-Griffin and Norma Gafford.

Mary Rush-Griffin is self-educated in painting, and has a natural eye for composition and use of bright, primary colors, which, if I recall correctly, are acrylic.  Many of her works, if not most, she bases on photographs she finds here and there, but gives each one her own personal touch so that they are her own works of art and not simply attempts at duplicating photographs on canvas.  Indeed, she seems to have a gift for selecting photos of people from such exotic locales as Africa that are not simply portraits, but already have an emotive power as is found in good photojournalism that she does not simply relay to the viewer, but enhances then relays.   If you should visit the Rialto soon, check out my favorites of her works "Watcher" and "Water's Gold".

Norma Gafford uses primarily pastels and colored pencil and produces works of such subjects as pelicans, gulls, and mermaids in vibrant color.   "Eve the Mermaid" and "Celeste the Mermaid" were my personal favorites of her works for their brilliant, lively colors.

The works of several other artists were on exhibit outside the main galleries in the entrance area to the theaters.  Of these I was particularly impressed with the (giclee) watercolor works of Narice Hopp, whose brilliant colors seem to pop off the canvas and bring to life the sensual, erotic characters in her surreal, mature-themed works with names such as "De-evolution Bar and Grill",  "Mezcal Worm Woman", and "Seduction of Absinthe".  Two whose deceptively innocent names belie their adult themes are "Merry Widow" (a interior view of a living room whose sole occupant, a black widow spider with a woman's head, lounges on a divan while the bones of her lover lie decomposing near the door) and "Pool Boy" (an overweight,  middle-aged woman reclines on a lounge chair near a swimming pool and reaches lustfully for the pool boy perhaps a third of her age).   My favorite of her works is "Seduction of Absinthe" in which a young, nude woman kneels in a desert, her dreamy, wistful gaze showing her mind is apparently somewhere else far away, while two skeletons cozy up tempting her with---what?  The infamous "green fairy"?

All in all, I enjoyed the show and the creativity exhibited by the artists selected for exhibition at the Rialto.   Jen Jones has done an exceptional job selecting an eclectic repertoire of artists from the local area for exhibition. 


April 3, 2010

I removed Symphony in Red from the Member's Gallery after I realized I had not noticed some damage that had been done while being transported.  I will probably remove Ragged Sun, Ragged Sky on the 10th and put  up two more pieces, though I have yet to decide which.

Currently hanging in the Art Center's main gallery are works from the City of Corpus Christi's collection.  For the most part, the works being shown are quite conservative and quite traditional in taste.  There are some interesting pieces nonetheless. 

Jill Pankey has some more interesting works with "Runner" and "Once I Was Afraid of Becoming My Mother".  Both are figurative works, but they break away from what seems to be her motif of painting groups of women enjoying themselves in sunbathing, walking along the beach and so forth.  "Runner" consists of about five copies or near-copies of the same woman running as if the viewer had a few drinks too many and was seeing six images of the same runner--but in focus. "Once I Was.." seems to be a pastiche of action scenes from the life of one woman, such as dancing ballet, sitting with friends, and so on.   While her other works are quite conventional, these at least seem to endeavor to toy with concept of time and perspective in one way or the other.

Deborah Males' large painting of flowers seem to me derivative of Georgia O'Keefe in that they are close-ups of common objects that try to lure the viewer into a new perspective.  Her often rough texture adds a nice bit of variety to a show where most of the canvases tend to be smooth and thereby it seems to reach out to the viewer and bring him (or her) into a closer relationship to the canvas.

Previously all I have seen of Dinah Bowman's works have been the fish prints on nautical charts and the type of thing that sells well in local tourist shops.  However, in this show she has two abstracts on framed, heavy paper (there was no card to give the details), which I think are of exceptional beauty for abstracts.  The colors are crisp and of high contrast with none of the discernible muddiness that betrays the novice abstract artist.  The colors are well organized so that none tone down the others and bring the painting down.  There are no recognizable geometric shapes and so these are pure abstracts.   These are very nicely done and I would be proud to have them in my collection (if I had one).


March 28, 2010

I have opened a small gallery within Third Coast Antiques at 4325 South Alameda in Corpus Christi.  Currently, I have only three of my larger paintings (Comet, Deconstructionist Sunset, and Concerto for Red and Blue) there along with a few printouts of my digital words such as Turbulence, Tremor, and the Corpus Christi Cathedral.  I am also taking advantage of the opportunity to sell some photographic equipment I no longer need (a Beseler Dichroic color enlarger, a Jobo processing drum, a 35mm slide duplicator, etc.)   The store hours are Monday through Friday 10:00 until 5:00 and Saturdays until 6:00.

I also have two works on exhibit in the Member's Gallery of the Corpus Christi Art Center:  Symphony in Red (although I think it is exhibited under its original name of "Fireflow") and Ragged Sun, Ragged Sky until the second Saturday in April, when I might replace at least Symphony Red or maybe both. 


March 13, 2010

I toured the exhibit of the Watercolor Society of Corpus Christi at the Corpus Christi Art Center today and was impressed with the range of brilliant, beautiful colors shown.  I always think of watercolors as being pale and somewhat faded compared to other mediums, but the colors in this exhibit absolutely shone.  For once, I agreed with at least some of the judges' decisions as to which pieces should have been awarded prizes, because most of the winning works actually showed not only extraordinary composition and color, but also expressed a depth of emotion.   Bravo to the judges!

The two works that most stand out in my memory are:

Pam Stanley's Hijo y Madre de Guatemala -- brilliant use of color, a dynamic color strategy, and the touching subject of a mother breastfeeding her infant.


Debbie Cannatella's Crossroads -- outstanding composition of a young woman reclining in a chair in a open field and gazing curiously at the viewer.

An artist with a private show in the Art Center's Kucera Gallery currently is Zulia Gotay Anderson, whose use of color is extraordinary.  Many of the works shown on her website are on exhibit at the art center now.  If you live in south Texas, take advantage of the opportunity to visit her show--or at least her website:  http://www.zuliagotay.com/


September 18, 2009

Has it really been almost a year since my last entry?  Maybe I made a typo in the dates.   Maybe some entries were not saved.   I am almost dead certain I entered some things this year.

Since I last wrote, I have added a writing page to showcase my published works of short fiction and both my published and unpublished poems (when I say "published" I mean published by someone other than myself).

On September 3, I returned from a three week trip to Del Rio, TX, where I was working with the staff of Amistad National Recreation Area on software matters (my regular job is with the National Park Service here in Corpus Christi, TX.   Del Rio is a small town in the desert on the Mexican border.  The area has an austere beauty and a small, struggling artistic scene.  As mentioned in an earlier entry, Adrian Falcon has a gallery there and, although small, it is well-kept and charming.  When I was there, Mr. Falcon was exhibiting not his own works, but the contemporary abstract works of two other artists, which would have fit well into the art scene of any big city, such as Dallas or San Antonio.    I recommend visiting Mr. Falcon's gallery if you have the opportunity.

Del Rio also has a community art center built into what used to be the city's fire station, and which is appropriately referred to as "the Firehouse".   They were exhibiting a traveling exhibit from the Smithsonian on one photographer's works with dancers.   The Firehouse is a neat little art center and definitely worth a visit if you are in the area.

To learn more about Del Rio, visit the Wikitravel article, most of which I wrote after my return.

By the way, the Island Art Emporium, where I did have some works, has unfortunately closed, but I have moved most of the works that were there to the Purple Elephant at the Six Points area of downtown Corpus Christi.


October 5, 2008

A few thoughts on abstract art:

Many people say they do not understand abstract art.  What is there to understand?  A painting either appeals to a viewer or it does not.  

As I try to convey in my short webpage on the history of art, abstract art is a natural step in the evolution of art.  Throughout history, artists have used form based on concrete objects and color to express their concepts.  Abstract art goes the next step and frees the artist from using forms representing concrete objects (which for the sake of brevity I shall refer to in this entry simply as "forms).  

With this traditional constraint eliminated, however, many people do not know how to relate to an abstract work: they lack a point of reference.  This is not a failing of the artist, who has advanced beyond the traditional education and views of the public, most of whom are not as schooled in artistic concepts as the average artist or art-enthusiast, and certainly not as schooled as the average professional critic.   It is a failing of public education.  As a result, the public desires more traditional, concrete works and businesses and galleries striving to make a living, understandably cater to those desires.  In addition, schools likewise teach students want the parents want to see and a new generation is reared with traditional artistic tastes.  

What the schools fail to teach is not just a way of viewing abstract art, but art in general.  Art is not appreciated so much these days for its beauty, but for its creativity, i.e. how it breaks with anything done artistically before. 

Unfortunately, beauty is often a secondary consideration.  In my view, this is tragic, because in a world full of tragedy and cruelty, art has traditionally been one of the few mediums that can uplift the spirit of people.   As a result of this deviation away from beauty as a primary consideration,  the artistic world is flooded with works that do not edify, but only confuse, or even worse, offend.  The most obvious example I can think of (although not an abstract work) is Piss Christ by Andres Serrano;  it is a photograph of a crucifix submerged in a glass of the artist's urine. If you have not seen it, I recommend reading the Wikipedia article, which also describes the controversy surrounding it (involving the first amendment and separation of church and state).   If the technique used for producing the picture can be ignored, if Mr. Serrano had used a fluid other than urine, say water with food coloring, to produce the same effect as in the photo,  the photo could be considered beautiful with its hazy, distant image and golden tones.   If Mr. Serrano's main concern had been beauty, perhaps he would have found another way to produce this work.   As it stands now, maybe he had some other intent.  Maybe he intended to stir up controversy regarding free speech or church and state issues or to make the public think about current views of the church and/or God.   But now I am digressing from my original intent and am writing about the creation of an artwork to achieve unstated political or social aims, and that could, and probably will be, the subject for a different weblog entry.   What Mr. Serrano did mostly was offend, rather than edify, even though apparently he had the talent to do the latter.  In terms of creativity, if Mr. Serrano's aim was to stir up controversy, he deserves an A.  In terms of creating (albeit superficial) beauty, he probably deserves an A.  In terms of selecting an offensive subject, he definitely gets a A.

However, because it is essentially formless, abstract art does have at least one advantage (perhaps a limitation depending on your view) over other forms of art:  it cannot offend.   Only concrete images, such as Piss Christ, can offend.

That will conclude my entry for now.  Perhaps later I will add more.   I am going to lunch now.  I would like to write more about how to appreciate abstract art for its interplay of colors and its lack of formlessness or even for the new forms that abstract artists create, but I grow weary of typing and need to refresh myself with a shower, meal, and a venture out of my apartment into the glorious south Texas autumn.


 October 3, 2008

In addition to the Island Art Emporium on (North) Padre Island,  I now have works for sale at the Purple Elephant Consignment Store in the Six Points area of Corpus Christi.   The Purple Elephant is unique locally in that proceeds from its profits support people with developmental disabilities through its programs to teach skills such as answering the phone, writing a resume, and improving social skills.  Read this article from the Corpus Christi Caller-Times of April, 2007 to learn more.  

The Purple Elephant in also interesting from a local perspective, because it is part of the revitalization of a section of town known as "Six Points", whose name derives from the fact that it is where three major streets converge (Ayers, Staples, and Alameda).   Many years ago when Corpus Christi was smaller, Six Points was an important commercial and social area.  As has happened in many cities though, important areas boom then fade into history.  However, as is happening in many cities today, these areas are being brought back from the recesses of history and are being revitalized as shopping and artistic centers.    The Purple Elephant is an example of the revitalization of Six Points as it used to be a hardware store.  Now it primarily sells antique furniture, paintings, and jewelry (the jewelry having been produced in its programs to support the disabled).   Other contemporary businesses are springing up in the Six Points area, such as the Bleu Frog Mercantile (an eclectic mix of antique, vintage, and nostalgic wares), Hester's Coffee Shop (contemporary bistro), the Nuevo Cafe (excellent contemporary Texas cuisine with different art exhibitions monthly by contemporary south Texas artists), the Indie Theater (the area's only independent movie theater), Zuzu's Bistro (very contemporary and elegant adjacent to the Indie) and a selection of antique shops plus one gem and rock shop (selling geodes and other beautiful works made of stone).  The area also has one of the city's main city bus stations, so that it is easily accessible by public transportation.   To visit Six Points for a walking tour, I recommend beginning by finding your way to the Purple Elephant, which sits almost in the middle of Six Points, at 1701 South Staples. Two doors up from the Purple Elephant is the Indie and Zuzu's, while across Ayers is the Nuevo, the Antique Shops, and the Rock Shop while across Alameda is the Bleu Frog and Hester's.   Other local establishments of note at Six Points include Luciano's Italian Restaurant and Boatner's Internet Cafe (a little bit down Ayers and away from the immediate Six Points area.   Now that my paintings are in the Purple Elephant, I am proud to be a part (however small) of this revitalization of a historic Corpus Christi area.

September 21, 2008

My works have been accepted into my first two juried exhibits.  The first ("Ragged Sun, Ragged Sky") is in the Dimension XXVI show at the Art Center of Corpus Christi.  You may see in on my Paintings Page.   The second ("World on Fire") may also be seen on the Paintings page and it has been accepted into the South Texas Art League show at the Art Museum of South Texas.  Both shows run through September.

New artists that have come to my attention lately are Adrian Jesus Falcon And Deborah Sheller Males.

 Mr. Falcon has a studio in Del Rio, TX and has a exhibition at the Art Center of Corpus Christi currently.  His work on exhibit are all abstracts of a powerful nature with bold, broad areas of color and strong lines with occasionally a heavy impasto.  His canvases tend to be about 3 or 4 feet square, though he does have larger ones and much narrower ones.  I sat for a while on a bench in the exhibit hall trying to grasp his creative process.  His works are impressive and, for me, resonate with a combination of beauty and strength.  His show is worth a trip to the art center if you are into abstracts.

Deborah Males's works are on exhibit at the Art Museum of South Texas, where she is included with six other artists in the "Field of Color:  Seven Contemporary Artists" show.   I have not seen her other works, but her works at the Art Museum are fascinating in her choice of colors.  Their subjects are simple scenes from the Hans and Pat Suter Wildlife Area, which is a park near my residence in Corpus Christi.  However, instead of using the lush greens of the marsh vegetation in the park and the rich blue of the sky, she uses yellows, lavenders, and other colors that are not found there or at least are not obvious (and I have been there many times).  I found her choice of colors fascinating, because they are unexpected yet work well together.  Her compositions also fascinated me, because while the area itself is very flat and, to me, somewhat boring, she found a way to bring out the depth and space in the place that one feels subtlely but finds hard to express.  She made the landscape exciting even though she was limited in the two-dimensionality of her media. 

I attended an Art Museum event where members of the public had lunch with Ms. Males and the other artists and was able to ask her about her color strategy.  She replied only that it was "spontaneous" and that she likes to "weave" the colors together.

I recommend investigating her works wherever you can, especially if you are interested in novel means of working with color.  


August 13, 2008

I just returned from San Antonio (TX), where I was on a business trip for my day job.  While there I went through some of the small but beautiful art galleries in the quaint section of downtown known as La Villita [Spanish for "the little town"], which is a collection of shops in small houses that date back to when Texas was its own nation and a Republic, 1836-1845.   Most carry traditional or folksy works, but some also carry or even specialize in contemporary art and even abstracts.  I found all of the galleries enjoyable, but the Monte Wade Fine Arts gallery especially so, with its collection of contemporary Western and Native American subjects.  I also discovered some artists whose work I found intriguing.  These were Robert David Conn, Mary Hunter, and Joyce Kaufmann at the Nueva Street Gallery; Henry Cardenas and Vera Dankof at the Little Studio Gallery; and Arlene Ladell Hayes and Tom Owen [I particularly enjoyed his work "Morning Moon"] at Monte Wade Fine Arts.   If you go to San Antonio and are interested in contemporary art, it will be worth a short side trip to La Villita

August 8, 2008

As I edit my website today, I am adding or enlarging captions to some of my works on the "Abstracts" page.  It is interesting to revisit those works and explore why I named them what I did. 

To a lot of my beginning works, such as "lklk" (Abstracts 3 gallery), I gave names I picked at random, out of a feeling that a name (for anything) really means nothing, but is only a collection of sounds or letters to represent an object.  An object or a person is what it is, no matter what it is called. For example, an American, a German, and a Spaniard could all be looking at the same table.  To the American, the collection of sounds to represent the idea of that table (which is what a word truly is) is table.  The German calls it a Tisch; the Spaniard calls it a mesa.  Nonetheless, they are all referring to the same object. 

Later on, however, I found my natural inclination was to name my works after some feeling they aroused in me.  Something in them brought forth a priori emotions or remembrances of whose existence I was sometimes not aware.   An example of this is the works “Woman Contemplating” and “Ice Age” in the Abstracts Gallery.  Rather than repeat the explanations here, I will ask that you read their captions for a fuller understanding.

August 5, 2008

Today I start a new feature for my website: a blog.

Occasionally, I have an insight or revelation (at least it's a revelation to me) about art that I would like to share with the world, or I feel that something needs to be said about my technique or style that the e-pilgrims of the Internet need in order to understand my works; thus have I founded this blog. 

I will keep this blog very informal and relaxed, much as I like to live.  Because I write it from the comfort of my living room, one may think of reading it as paying a virtual visit to my humble apartment, in which you get to listen to my opinions and even, if you drop me a line via the contact button to the left,  get the opportunity to converse with me.  If you have an interesting insight or opinion of your own, I may even post it here.

However, be aware that I intend to keep this site, as I do my home, family-friendly and respectable.   If your message to me is littered with obscenities, don't expect it to be posted.  I, myself, often use coarse and/or colorful language in private or among close friends, but in public forums, I try to remain a gentleman and try to stay within the bounds of good taste.

But enough of administrative matters, let's start talking about art.

Symphony in Red (above right), is one of my favorite pieces of my own art.  It is unfortunate that you can view it now only in 2D. I designed it, as I do all my works canvas, to be three-dimensional and not just a flat picture.  The red flow emerging from the upper right and descends like a lava flow over a cliff, is made of acrylic paint, straight from the tube, applied with a palette knife. The yellow streams are streams of household latex paint poured over flat (in terms of texture) areas of yellow.  Latex, applied thus, beads up and creates thus a three-dimensional stream. The remaining red and black areas of the work were applied thinly with a palette knife, but they were applied first in terms of the order in which this painting was built up from the canvas.

I have had some interesting responses to this painting.  My favorite was from woman who said that it reminded her of music.  As a matter of fact, I get this response to some of my painting from people who have musical experience or musical backgrounds.

I named this work just after finishing it and before any one saw it and could comment on it.   I picked "symphony" because a symphony is a complex, but unified work with different movements flowing through it, much as the tones of red do in my painting.  One could look at this work as a symphony with black being moments of silence for some instruments, the shades of red reflecting musical tones or notes, and colors being different instruments. If read from left to right, as music is, the painting is a crescendo rising to a brief, but powerful, climax.

To abstract works, I like to give abstract names.  Two works I currently have on display in the Corpus Christi Art Center's Members Gallery are abstract pieces with the names "Anger Internalized" and "Sleeping Envy".  I will post photos of them here later (if I remember).

That's it for now; I go to fix supper.