There are probably a lot of artists out there that hide their art too.  There is something very refreshing about putting new work away, out of site, out of reach, out of mind, whether you are really conscious of it or not.  Before you know it you are busy on something else, then something else, and then one random morning you are holding  a new  French study that hasn’t been seen in four years. That’s what happened to me recently.

I was busy doing something in the studio and I came across this small study, and immediately I knew it was  from Sarlat in the Dordogne  region.  It’s funny how you can lose a whole painting for four years but remember precisely how you painted it that morning. It was misty and damp. I headed right out to paint first thing, finding a view,  working just off of one of the main roads leading into this Medieval town.  It was beautiful out, distant smoke and  rolling small farms.

But my study did not go so well. When your work doesn’t go well it usually means you don’t know what you are doing or you just can’t fix it  then. Sometimes it can be hard to paint on location when the view in front of you, everywhere around you looks so foreign and rich. When I came back to Massachusetts from France I put it away out of view.

So it was very cool to find this hidden study left in its state of discontent.

This was painted in France on a historic morning in my life. This day I realized granola tastes just fine without the milk. You can eat it right out of the box driving down the road looking for a strong place to work. When I found this small oil waiting patiently,  I immediately wanted to paint back into it.  It came together quickly.  It’s probably been percolating in the back of my mind over many  breakfasts.

Feeney,  “Salat France”  9×12 Started on location.

Available at the Rowley Gallery.

Today I am posting an overcast harbor scene of  Wellfleet Massachusetts, 16×20.”

I told a dealer about this piece a few months ago and was told there was no interest in anything that might reek of  inclement weather. Then I had another dealer see it and rave about how well it comes across. This made me reflect on the art market and how things have been like this since  the beginning of time. As soon as someone begins to create, there will be  someone there suggesting what you really should  be creating.

Don’t listen to them.

You’ll be at your strongest creatively,  if you paint exactly what YOU want. Your colors, your subjects,  with no regard to the market…or what might sell. This  is the only way to go.

Painting what you are excited about will get you up early and keep you up late at night in your studio.  As artists this is the ideal scenario, heading to the studio before you do anything else.

I like capturing  the rain. I like the fog and painting snow scenes too. I remember being in Times Square in the early 1980′s photographing one cold winter morning with a close family member asking  “why are you photographing this area?”  Times Square back then was a  seedy set  of peep shows, hawk shops and XXX Dancing signs everywhere. I am so glad I kept taking those shots and did not listen to anyone’s objections. Times Square does not look like that anymore and it never will again.  With my old Fuji I caught the New York of that day, a shady neighborhood on its way out and  from those photos, I painted a killer city series of  a Times Square that is long gone, and so are all those paintings.  As the fog lifts this morning I head into the studio to paint  more unpopular subjects. Can’t wait.

A  highlight-dot of color, is how I began to insert  figures into my landscapes as a focal point.  They were so vague and uncommitted, people  would ask, “is that light spot  a figure back there?”

Over the years as my oils changed to become more comfortable depicting people, the single figure is now often a part of the crowd. This has opened up interesting  subjects for me, to the point where I am a dedicated urban painter.

I like standing in the middle of a busy street taking my shots. I do. The funny thing is though, these anonymous faces are starting to feel familiar  now.I know them. When I paint my people I think about whether that  business man’s brief-case is heavy as he is  hurries to get home, trying to make that train.  I consider the window shopper and what day of the week it might be that  I am trying to capture with each piece. Your peeps will have a different vibe when you take your reference pictures on a Saturday rather than a Monday morning commute. These are all elements that are fun to consider as you work in the studio where the imagination runs away with you.

The business man that was catching the train in Paris twenty paintings ago is now following behind a woman in red, looking in vain for that particular shop on Fifth Avenue.

Paris Figures After the Rain

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Fifth Avenue Shoppers,  New York  (partial closeup)

Brittany Fr.

This is my favorite painting resulting from my time in France. It is large, and anyone interested will have to check with Celia for the exact size and price.  The wind was roaring that day and my easel flew into a ditch at one point. Fortunately, it did not hurt the oil painting. My goal was to capture the gusts of movement across the spring fields.

Here is the RSVP  link  Invitelondon09

My life has morphed into one big painting.  I love to examine the day to day and edit this for the canvas.  Lately I have been revisiting a favorite subject from my past.  There is a fresh renewed interest in my minds eye for… the interior, not just any interior, no,  for the PUB.

I have done a lot of research in this area, which I will dutifully continue, because it’s my job.  Seeking out the small intimate gatherings of the locals is the first step.  Framing my subject and capturing the the spirit of a place while I am there is important, so that when I am back in my studio  painting, even if it is months later, or  years, I can hear that rooms echo. Feel that days vibe.  Smell the party.

“After Work,  Brooklyn”  2009 8×10″

The wind, the bugs, the tourists; what fun!  The days where your canvas focal point sails away from the pier mid- painting.  The days where your painting goes bad with the enthralled crowd behind you wondering where is she looking?

But you keep working, scraping down, rubbing out, wiping,  fighting with the oils till finally…  you think, to heck with it. Why don’t I just wipe it out right here? Save this canvas for another day.

But don’t.

Never, ever, wipe your painting out while on location. Because, your art will never compare while you are still outside. Nature will always win. Wait, and take it home to the studio. I guarantee it will look better.  Take it inside and study it then. Often times you will be pleasantly surprised with the days efforts.

Boston: Charles River Study on location.

I met  tourists from South Korea, avoided joggers and watched MIT students lunch.  Boston, it’s all there.

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Now I am represented in Orleans by the Elizabeth Rowley Gallery.

This gallery features very strong impressionist landscape artists, heavy on the Provincetown connection.  This is really appealing to me.  My oils are loose and getting looser. Capturing a mood or a fleeting moment is what I am striving for at the easel.  More and more I am occupied with achieving an  elevated energy on my canvas,  by capturing my time. Artists that stay true to their time with their painting are excited artists. Their life is their work and they know each new day holds the potential for success.

So  please check out the Rowley Gallery which is featuring my new urban paintings of Paris, New York City, and Boston. I will be there on September 19th 5-7, and September 20th 4-6 for a painting demonstration.

I am sure my collectors will appreciate her enthusiasm and knowledge as much as I do.

I was going to just post this recent shot of my studio without comment. Because I just really want to get painting this morning. Then I thought, most people are not used to seeing this kind of organized chaos. Maybe a short post would be more sufficient.

It looks like this, because I always walk past the files, books, and notes to head right for the palette. The other things are not important,  not really.

What’s important, is the work.  Is there enough paint on the palette? Am I working on the same painting that is still on the easel from yesterday?

I will look around the studio and contemplate which painting has the best chance for  improvement  right now.  What painting do I have the answers for this dark morning?   A storm off the coast,  and a  final Sox score not worth reading. I am not painting Fenway today.

See the thing about painting landscapes is, in a moment ,  I am going to walk into that studio and  put something on the big easel and it will take me right away. My imagination leaves stormy Cape Cod for wherever that piece is.

It might be the Left Bank this morning along the Seine.  It might be Menemsha, or Brooklyn Heights.  Or maybe I will go in there and really get everything organized for once.

No, not today.

Woods Hole, so small and intimate, with the flurry of ferries and movement constant. The drawbridge is a big motif for me here.

Provincetown at the Cape tip,  is just consistently wonderful and the real artist mecca of this region.  Or Sandy neck where I go out in my Jeep whenever I can spend a day relaxing. Where I want to take my first swim of the season in the cold surf to feel alive.

So what is it about Buzzards Bay that keeps me so…enthralled?

It’s depressed. It’s run down. Even Jimmy Buffet sings about not wanting to be here. It is lacking in so many respects. But I miss it when I do not get here, and I do not get here often.

This is the gateway to the Cape. You can see ships from all over the world cutting under the bridges through the canal.  It is where I go when I want to go antiquing. It is now where I go when I want to get Thai food.  It is where many people go to spend the day fishing along the canal in a current so swift you would not want to fall into it. There is something about Buzzards Bay. What is it? I have a large night painting of tugs on the canal here that has been in progress for…years! I love it. It is a strong piece but I just can’t finish it. Can’t bring myself to put it on the easel.

Last night I chanced the heavy Sunday evening traffic  to visit friends that are staying along  the Scusset, and I was jealous as they talked about the different things they have discovered in this area.  And how quiet and beautiful it looks at six o’clock in the morning.

How here you can see  along the coastal paths men riding  bikes all rigged up with fishing poles picking there spot, or later riding there bikes while balancing  a 30″ striper.

This area called Buzzards Bay is the last stronghold of the OLD Cape.  That is what attracks me.  Progress has passed it by and I am glad.

Last night I brought my camera to take some shots there, but it never came out of my bag. Which is very unusal, but there is something about Buzzards Bay.  But  you can picture in your imagination; the swift tides, thick salty air and dingy small Capes selling second hand items under the towering bridges that carry the masses that no longer stop here.

These could be two colors on a blouse. Two colors on my palette or on a scrap of someones old  discarded paper.  A deep green against a deeper blue and it takes me instantly back to  Gloucester Harbor nights .

I don’t always want to be painting the big attempt; the big effort. Sometimes it is just as worthy to explore a smidgen of an idea, a glimpse of a new direction takes you before you know it, and you are excited about a new series.

The smallest fresh combination of colors can lift you to a fresh direction if you are open to it.