Here is a small painting I did and turned it into a Christmas Card. It's simple, but it's cute. Two snowmen are ganging up on the one, and he feels a little concerned! This is the last painting of the year. I hope you've had fun following my journey. Look for a new message after the first of the year. Cheers!
I've painted over a ton of work this year, mostly pieces that were somewhere in the middle of completion. I usually give up on something if I can't see potential emerging. One positive aspect of my dissatisfaction is I've gotten much better at color harmony. I've practically used the same five colors throughout my work this year, mixing nearly everything. 
I've done a lot of snow scenes this year, so this painting was an intentional detour from that. It was almost like I was painting snow by default, not even realizing it. For this piece, I wanted to do a valley-like scene with a few houses in the distance. The structures here are not the entire focus, although they are part of the center of interest. I also wanted to incorporate birch trees, which I have a growing fondness for; the way they tower over the landscape. I was hesitant to put leaves at first, as it had been a while since I'd done so, painting bare winter trees for so long. 
Well everybody, here it is. Officially the silliest painting I've ever done! I decided to include one funny painting for this years Tomato Art Fest. I can't tell you how many nights I spent at open mic nights. The Gibson Cafe, The Commodore, Bluebird, French Quarter, etc. Some of these clubs are closed down, which is a bummer. I remember waiting until 10 or 11pm to get on stage. By the time I did, there were a few people in the audience, and mostly other musicians waiting to get on stage. I finally quit going to them, and just decided to spend the time working on songs at home.
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If you've ever seen a picture of a Haw Finch, they are incredible. Some of them have silver beaks that shimmer in the sunlight. I think I read they are from the Czech Republic. I like finches so much because of their daintiness and colors. Wait until you see the little guy for next week. This painting is available at Artsy Chicks on May 5th. 
Look at this little guy, isn't he darling? I just love finches. I had one growing up. He was stark white with a bright orange beak and feet. Through the years he got rather dusty, and ended up a light grey. He used to like to sit on the brick of the fireplace. We called him, "FINCH!", always in a high pitched voice. .jpg)
This painting began from a photo I had of a beautiful sunset and a harsh, mountain sillohuette. The sunset itself was enchanging to work, but after painting in the black mountain sillohuette, I felt like the piece still needed something. I decided to give the mountain some dimension and color by adding trees, shrubs and thorns to bring it to life. This took some serious patience on my part, as I had no photo to go by. Figuring out where the light goes when I have no reference is sometimes quite a challenge. I'mglad I stuck with it though; I think it turned out well. It's a funny thing, the urge to paint over something halfway through. I guess it's my way of protesting the results so far; and thinking that what I see before me is going to be the final result. I never regret walking it all the way out. Sometimes it's just some minor tweeks that take a painting to a new level. 
My grandpa Harry Rainey was a tremendous artist. I can't remember what prompted me to ask, but about 16 years ago I had inquired from my grandpa Tay to give me art lessons. We had arranged that after I got off work on Thursdays, I head over to his house for an art lesson after dinner. It was a 45 minute drive, mostly because of exasperating OC traffic, so I spent the night too. I'd get there and grandma Winnie would have a cookie sheet in the oven of cheese sandwiches (her version of grilled cheese I suppose), and a cup of tomato soup or something. After dinner the table would be cleared and grandpa would venture back into his office to get some supplies. We drew mostly, working on perspective and such. It went on for months, and I can't recall why it stopped. I remember grandpa telling me candidly how he'd dreamed when he was young of going all the way with art, including a New York penthouse suite. He had a respectable business in his younger years, drawing ads for clients. It took care of the family comfortably. Now, all these years later, I know he knows what is going on. He died at 89 years old in his modest So Cal home, and I wasn't there. I never dreamed I'd be doing art, and that after all these years later I'd recall those relaxing lessons. For me, at the time, it was just something to do, and I know he got a huge kick out of it. 
