View of Five Points I

Five Points became a Historic District of Huntsville in 1999 and now seems to have become the main place in town where academics, artistic types, pseudo-Bohemians, hippies old and new, young professionals hoping for a bit of local color, and college students tend to congregate. The houses of Five Points, their styles spanning several decades, have been split into duplexes, turned into businesses, restored lovingly, painted wildly, or been left to relative ruin, and the neighborhood in general poses a very curious contrast to the Twickenham District. The smaller houses of Five Points may come up on the market for over $500,000, but even the most carefully-restored buildings retain a certain quirky earthiness.

This painting, the first in what is to be a series of two views of Five Points, is meant to highlight the current colorful revival of the neighborhood. While Huntsville has its share of steeples, the tower in the background is to be seen as a thing of fantasy-- a reminder of the church towers in European villages, the castle towers of dreams and childhood wishes, and, of course, the Saturn V rocket that both literally and figuratively defines the character of modern Huntsville. The canvas upon which this image was painted is only 11X14, making the scene boldly bright yet cozy and quaint, much as Five Points feels today.
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Studio Snapshot: Time for Spring Cleaning

Many of my brushes are getting to be three years old, and despite my being very careful about keeping my tools and other materials clean, constant use had left all of my older brushes stained and a couple a bit stiffer than they ought to have been. Today, I gathered any brushes that looked especially in need of care and cleaned them again using a mild brush soap, then spread them on paper towels to dry.
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Lilies and Beyond

Lilies [above] having been completed yesterday, I come to the matter of how to pick a subject for painting or what inspires an artist to work. In my case, I prefer to commit myself to working every day, regardless of inspiration, even if "working" only means a quick sketch or a few brushstrokes. It seems to me that creative indecision stems from either temporarily failing to see how many remarkable and interesting things there are in the world or having so many ideas that one cannot tell where to start. My solution to the first "challenge" is to take a walk, travel, or read a book-- any well-written book on philosophy, history, nature, or art will usually do for me. When it comes to the second, I like to make a list so I do not forget potential ideas, and then I begin with the first item and carry on. Because I find myself interested in so many different subjects and my mind is so flooded with imagery, I usually never run out of material that I want to depict, but sometimes it is nice to casually peruse my photo albums or experiment with texture and color until I have a nice first layer to let my imagination develop into a new painting. However I devise an idea, the act of painting itself inspires me enough to work continuously. Currently, I have two works already in progress-- a large painting inspired by the Five Points area which I set aside several weeks ago and a smaller painting of the same scene which I began today. Naturally, both will soon be featured on Abstract Träumerei!
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In the Works: Lilies

Though I often enjoy devising painting methods and then using the conclusions consistently to make my working processes and communication of various ideas more efficient (I can often finish a painting in an hour), I am also very careful to make sure that my paintings do not merely become formulaic copies of themselves. Therefore, when I believe I have taken one aspect or another of my aesthetic symbolism to its logical end, I spend more of my time doing academic pencil work and approach my next canvas a bit more slowly. My subject matter will usually be something fairly geometric and colorful, such as flowers, and I will avoid extreme abstraction in at least part of the painting. This gives me a chance to re-analyze and refine my methods, and also to assess the focus of my next several paintings. . . meanwhile, of course, I get to directly express my love of plants/flowers! [Below: An early stage in painting Lilies.]
Lilies is still "in the works" at present, as I have been spending a long time considering colors and the directions of brushstrokes in each layer of paint. I am purposely taking more time than generally necessary with this painting, allowing for frequent breaks, working with one color at a time, so that I might practice patient deliberation and let my mind wander to vividly beautiful places and new scenes waiting to emerge in future works. I began by making a drawing on the canvas with blue pencil, and then carefully brushed in an undercoat of deep orange for the two main flowers. I am picturing the background as a bit more abstract and less prominent than the flowers in the front in order to draw attention to the smooth waxiness of the petals. Therefore, I used a fairly dry brush to outline the background flowers and left them for later. [Below: After a bit more work.] Next, I added a few more highlights and some darker colors, giving the paint time to dry between each layer. Given the popularity of lilies as household plants and artistic models, contemplating ways to present them in a suitably fresh manner is an excellent way to strengthen my ability to approach other subjects in interesting ways as well. I will continue to consider contrast, form, balance, focus, and color as I complete the painting. This pleasant study of lilies appears to be coming along well so far and I expect it will be finished by next week. . .
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Two Views of Nature: Horses/Der Waldprophet (The Prophet of the Woods)

With Huntsville blooming its way into summer, announcing nature's renewed abundance, I sometimes wish to meander into my nostalgia, drinking gallons of cold tea and letting myself feel the intangible poignancy in the air as I sit upon my balcony (where there are now many pots filled with seedlings). The days are already hot enough to sear my skin and the night breezes whisper of some odd glimmering magic. The red Alabama clay hardens and cracks, while everything appears to be viewed through a dusty coating of pollen. [In the photo below: a view from Monte Sano.]
 Therefore, in celebration of this time of year, I would like to discuss two of my many depictions of nature. Both were actually painted toward the end of the year in 2008, but each was painted to express some part of the mystery and allure of nature which is most overwhelmingly vibrant during the spring and summer. [Below: Horses, 2008.]
 The first painting, Horses, was created after months of weekly bike rides with my father. One day, as we forced our pedals ever-faster in the heat, I noticed a mare and foal behind a fence along the trail. They seemed so comfortable and calm, a harmonious continuation of their surroundings. Much like Franz Marc and many other artists who have loved horses, I wanted to stress the gentle spirituality that one feels when watching these powerful-yet-elegant creatures. I watched the foal grow over the summer, every month remarking to my father at how much bigger he was or how his coat was changing. I found much peace while watching the horses graze among the trees. [Below: Relaxing in Kochel am See, Southern Germany, where many of the early Expressionists, including Franz Marc, enjoyed vacationing.]
 As the summer of 2008 drew to a close (and what a busy, interesting, educational year it proved to be), I began longing to return to Germany. I was fortunate enough to be able to afford the trip, and planned a stay of two months. As I sat in a train one day, not long after having seen the paintings in the Lenbachhaus, I began scribbling in my sketchbook. I found myself thinking of Schumann's Waldszenen (Forest Scenes-- one of my favorite collections of pieces for piano), as well as my ever-present fascination with birds and their symbolic significance to many cultures (in fact, in all of the cultures with which I am at all familiar). [Below: Der Waldprophet, 2008.]

It was not until a few months later, in December, that I remembered this sunny scene and decided to transform the doodle on canvas, and this was to be the last painting I was to complete in the U.S. before moving to Canada for graduate school. . . the flight of a little winged prophet in the woods, much like the nightingales I once sought in the forests of Brandenburg in 2005-- elusive and divine, proclaiming life and joy.

[Both paintings are available for sale, as are prints and postcards. Please inquire for prices.]
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Painting with Words: Post-Oktoberfest 2008

Oktoberfest in Munich-- the crowds were what I found most striking at first, the singing, the food and drink, the jovial tourists from all nations dressed in Tracht (the traditional costume of Southern Germany and Austria). My best friend and I smiled as we watched the happy participants in one of the largest parties in the world go on gravity-defying rides, raise their mugs, and eat ravenously as they clapped and stomped along to traditional Festzeltmusik as well as "We Are the Champions", "Seven Nation Army", and "YMCA". We tried to take our beer mugs off the festival grounds so that we could keep them (something security is very strict about) and, of course, were not allowed, we made fun of some of the odd things we saw and marveled at the beautiful things as we walked among the tents-- and then it was time to head back to Garching for the night, a suburb of Munich where we would be staying with a mutual friend.

The
Unterbahn was crowded with rowdy party-goers in festival attire, tiredly hurrying into their blue-and-white trains. The floors near the bathrooms in the usually-clean subway halls were flooded with water. The Bavarian conductor of one train was yelling in a heavy dialect to keep away from his doors because he wanted to get moving and did not have an eternity to wait. My friend and I smiled at each other as we headed toward Garching. . . and then as we slowed again, I peered out of the window into the night and saw a man in his Lederhosen, wearing a modern wristwatch, holding his head in his hands (I imagine he was very tired and had enjoyed a Maß of beer too many). Surrounded by the garish lights and the trains, memories of the festival and its brightness and stunning tents and rides, he seemed to stand out rather starkly from his blurry environment, and I began to think about the juxtapositions of "traditional" and "modern" in today's Europe. Unfortunately, the new sometimes seems so fast, so bawdy, so irritatingly raw and thoughtless, leaving the old stunned or deteriorating, trying to recover and adjust, to re-establish its relevance to a new generation. On one hand, this painting is a simple recording of an instant in my memory from a dazzlingly remarkable evening; on the other hand, it is a bit of a statement about the relationship between old and new in modern Germany as well. . .

[The original is not available, as I would like to keep it in my permanent collection, but signed 11X14 prints can be had for $30, 8.5X11 prints are $17.]
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Now at Wild Flour Bistro. . .

AS OF YESTERDAY, some of my paintings are on display at the Wild Flour Bistro on Jordan Lane in Huntsville. Elegant and eclectic, the restaurant offers a delightful menu (visit http://www.wildflourbistro.com for more details) and a comfortable atmosphere full of local art-- paintings, quilts, stained glass, and more. My own works will remain on the walls for several weeks to come, so by all means enjoy the food, the wine, and the art!
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Studio Snapshot: Eris

My cat Eris is always curious about things she finds in the studio, particularly if she believes them to be potentially delicious; here, as I attempt to organize papers, she contemplates eating one of my business cards.
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Painting with Words: 417 Greenacres Drive


Tonight I am revisiting
a painting that I completed in early 2008. At the time, I was living on Greenacres Drive-- a street tucked quietly between the university and downtown Huntsville. In the late 50's, when the one-story brick houses were built, the neighborhood was probably on the edge of town and mostly inhabited by young families. Fifty years later, it was populated by college students and retired people, and as the college students sat in the driveways laughing loudly into the night, an ambulance siren would scream in the distance now and then or a face would show up in a window for a moment before the lights went out. In the winter, the yards were smothered with the dry leaves of the aging maples and in the summer, the savage beauty of the greenery, the flowers, the heavy rains, would swell up to the windows as I watched from my room, paintbrush in hand. There was a feeling of ethereal transience in the stars, the leaves, the golden light and dappled shadows, the rushing traffic on busy, gritty Jordan Lane (the next street over). I meditated, I dreamed, I wondered about youth and age, and I read and wrote continuously. This painting was completed in the winter, but I wanted it to seem beyond season or time of day. I wanted it to reflect the beautiful yet tumultuous nature surrounding once-beloved, now-disintigrating houses, the ceaseless change. The houses morph into an abstract landscape, hinting at a time before the houses and perhaps a future into which they might dissolve. Yet the scene is not meant to be disturbing, merely nostalgic and curious-- the greens are bright and cheery, the oranges warm and inviting. Out of all of my works (as of last week, I have completed 82 paintings), "417 Greenacres Drive" remains one of my favorites.

[The original is not available, as I would like to keep it in my permanent collection, but 11X14 prints can be had for $30.]
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Buy Original Art/Signed Prints, Support the UAH Foreign Language Department!

Many experiences, interactions with others, contemplations, and interests come together to form one's personality, and so it is with the formation of an artist's work. For many years, I have studied the German language, culture, and landscape, and it is fair to say that, among other things, my artistic style, choice of subject matter, and ideas about art have been shaped by these studies.

Lately, I hear many students at the University of Alabama in Huntsville, the school where I earned my BA, complain of changes, fee increases, budget cuts. The humanities suffer many cuts and losses in such an atmosphere-- they begin to be considered a luxury, an expensive hobby, or a financial liability by many. This sort of thinking concerns me, because I have always believed that it is the humanities that teach us to be proper human beings, that science, useful and magnificent as it is, may tell us how to fix a broken bone or how blood flows, but it is the humanities that express why it is beautiful and worthwhile to be alive-- balance is crucial in all things!

This having been said, I would like to show my appreciation to the department from which I graduated, the Foreign Language Department of UAH, by presenting a special offer.
The above paintings-- "Alpine Scene" on top and "Contemplations on a Walk" below it-- were directly inspired by my German travels. The first is of the almost Utopian sort of village landscape romanticized in songs and poems and still to be seen in Germany and Austria today, the second is depicting a day of contemplations of the differences between the Old and New Worlds, tinged by the rainy-day atmosphere that makes days in both Germany and North Alabama in the early spring and late fall so thought-provokingly ambient. 60% of all proceeds from the sale of these two paintings, signed prints of them, and signed postcards will go directly to the Foreign Language Department to further their programs and events. The other 40% will serve as compensation for the cost of making the prints and cover shipping costs to other states.

Original paintings: $275 each.
Special price, signed 8.5X11 prints: $10
Signed postcards: $2

If you would like to purchase a painting, print, or postcard to promote the study of culture and language, please send me a message or E-mail!
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Life as an Artist: It Began with Geese.

I began painting rather unceremoniously; one summer afternoon in 2007, a few months after receiving my BA in German from UAH, my mother asked me what I wanted to do with the rest of my day. I said I wanted to do a painting in oils. My grandfather, whom I admire greatly, was a sculptor, and my mother's family is rather artistic in general, but I was not in the habit of painting or drawing at the time. I had no particular reason for wanting to paint that afternoon except that I tend to like to keep myself busy with something or another, but when I finished a painting of two white geese an hour later, I decided that my interest in the activity was strong enough that I wanted to do more than occasionally dabble in it. I then made a second, third, and fourth painting-- all depicting birds, because I kept thinking about different ways to portray flight, vitality, and the symbolism that birds have carried throughout the centuries.
I brought my work to the attention of Mrs. Diana Henry (my former high school art teacher) at Artistic Minds Gallery in Monrovia, AL and hosted a one-woman show there titled "Birds" a few months later. [In the image below, I am at the opening night reception. My former German professor (also one of my great mentors), Dr. Peter Meister, is holding up a postcard of his favorite work in the show beside the original painting.]
From there, I decided to spend some time doing color/composition experiments, developing a color chart of my own, and reading more about my favorite artists (including El Greco, Kandinsky, Marc, and Cezanne). I dedicated several months to painting in my private studio and doing volunteer work at the Huntsville Museum of Art with curatorial services. I traveled to Germany for an extended stay and researched Kandinsky and Marc extensively, visiting the places they loved and lived in, and museums housing their works.
I did not focus on seeking venues for my paintings at the time, but did enter works in the "Unique Views of Huntsville" competition held by the Huntsville Art League at the museum. So far, my work has been juried into the show two years in a row, 2008 and 2009. [Below: Two of my works at the Huntsville Museum of Art, "Night Stroll in the Park" and "Bridge over Ditto Landing".]
December of 2008 and much of 2009 were spent in Montreal, Canada, where I attended McGill University to pursue further courses in German literature and culture. I assumed I would still have plenty of time for as much painting as I wanted to do, and also that I would find an adviser willing to help me write a thesis on Kandinsky using the materials I had gathered in German-- unfortunately, this was not to be! My schedule at my new home was far too chaotic for a reserved lover of otium cum dignitate such as myself, and my project found few willing supporters, so I returned to Huntsville, AL. Even so, I learned many things while living in a bustling city in French Canada, and was still able to complete a few canvases. [Below: A newly finished painting in my Montreal apartment, beside the building that inspired it.]
Upon returning to Huntsville, I was featured in the Huntsville Art Blog, was able to set up a month-long show at the Huntsville Art League gallery, and will begin teaching classes for HAL as well (a series of talks on art history and a Creativity/Abstraction workshop). [Below: My mother takes pictures at the HAL gallery before the opening night reception.]
With that, we come to today, and new canvases are drying on my table or walls each day. I enjoy painting because it is a pleasant creative activity, but more importantly, I find it to be meaningful. The sincerity, intelligent boldness, and spirit I see in particularly fine works of art, the wordless communication, the dedication and craftsmanship, are such a source of fascination to me that I often contemplate writing a book on the philosophy of art (. . . and perhaps, as 2010 progresses, so I shall!)
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In the Works: Longhorn, New Braunfels, TX

There is something clean about the Texas landscape, simple and broad, uniformly bright-- something beautiful to behold in person and important to note when attempting to express mood or atmosphere in a painting. When I was in New Braunfels recently, I got the chance to see several longhorns, including this one and her "new baby". Fascinated, I watched them graze, huff at the bark of a dog, wander about in their native landscape, and I took mental note of their distinguishing features, knowing that I would be eager to do a "longhorn painting" upon returning to Huntsville. Here is a peek at the development of the recently-completed work!
I wanted the image to be well-delineated, so I began by painting directly on the canvas using a darker green.
My palette remained simple and clean to reflect the feeling of the land and the bold Texan "Big Sky".
I began by building up greens in the background, leaving other colors for later.
I continued to fill the canvas, added highlights wherever necessary, then I carefully painted the sides of the canvas a deep green so that it would be ready to display. It currently hangs in my studio, where it will dry for the next few days.

[8.5X11 and 11X14 signed prints are available for $17 and $30 respectively; if you are interested in purchasing the original painting, please inquire!]
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