Arch Cape Creek

                                                      Arch Cape Creek oil on canvas 20x20


 Nine years ago today I began this blog. What it means for me has changed over time. Its promotional aspect is still my priority but now I also think of it as a journal of sorts. This may be why I`m so surprised when I hear someone reads it. Thank you for doing so! I never thought what I said would be of interest particularly when my passion was painting. A blog visitor told me she reads it to her husband at dinner! Now that is gratifying.
I`ve thought if my eyes failed I would take up writing seriously. Try to study with somebody I admire. But for now, I`ll focus on painting. It`s been going well, it feels natural again.
 Nine years ago, I had no idea my world would be forever sadder. I did not know on July 1, my comic and dear brother Gary would be given the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer in three weeks, then die two months later. This is when I finally grew up. This is when I understood at last how fragile reality is.
Pancreatic cancer is very fast once it is obvious. There is no 'pap smear' test to alert us but there are some warnings. Please look these over.

                                                  Slow Summer Water oil on canvas 56x44


 This was in my show at the Coos Art Museum last summer. Before I sent the paintings off I carefully reviewed each one for glitches. I had time for corrections, then away they went. When I retrieved them in the fall, several seemed to have glaring problems. They didn`t change, it was me. So I`ve reworked some of them including the one above. It`s better now.

Below are my last two small plein air efforts. The weather has been sublime and I`ve been much more inclined to relax and soak in summer once we`re set up, than paint. With all the walking I do [or did], I rarely just sit outside and do nothing. It`s nice. Smells good.

 Here is a thoughtful set of remarks by professionals in the art market. The demise of smaller, less well heeled galleries has been accelerating. The usual culprit, the internet, is to blame. Collectors are buying from the artists directly, from the comfort of their homes. Like everything else.
I got involved in this when my Portland gallery closed just before the Big Recession.The galleries that still did represent me were not close and I felt I had to try something to earn some income. This blog was part of that effort and it was the best business decision I ever made. It definitely begat sales and even better, led to friendships. Strangers wrote to me, bought paintings and some became companions.
The downside to all this oncoming digital commerce is that real places to see art are intimate, offering a richer experience. Local venues will take chances on unknown artists too. My first show in New Mexico [1978] was at the Los Alamos public library. Because a gallery owner saw it, I was offered representation in Santa Fe. Good things happen when our communities have the opportunity to experiment. The pop-up shows of recent years are a great example. Portlander Chris Haberman came up with the idea for a huge show of affordable work created by 500 different artists at Christmas time. Brilliant! It earns the artists some cash and exposure and benefits the worthy Oregon Food Bank.
 I hope there will always be art galleries.

 It`s shocking, but listen to the new advertisement from the NRA if you haven`t seen it. It`s important to know what the opposition thinks although this is obviously inflammatory.
We really have so much more in common than our differences.
We are always better together.

                                                                   by Su Sheedy

                                                            by Su Sheedy


 Finally the glorious, intelligent paintings of Su Sheedy! Damn, I can look at one of her paintings for hours! They are so generous, teaming with squirming, pulsating color! Mesmerizing! So skillful in balancing such strong color with patterns and neutrals. Her work makes me glad to be alive.


This is as good a definition as I`ve ever heard;

work for sale, mostly in my studio