Upcoming juried art show was calling for artists to "push" themselves. What, as an artist, would you do that is different? How would you step outside of your comfort zone?

 

I had been toying with the idea of mergin the energy and rythym found in a Jackson Pollock with the color theories that are found in a Chuck Close. This would be the perfect setup for me to experiment with the idea. One catch though - I do not want the viewer to look at the finished painting and say "Oh that reminds me of Jackson Pollock (or Chuck Close).

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is an unseasonably warm day in February on the East Coast. Feeling like a hint of Spring to come I grabbed my camera, some pencils and paper and headed over to the Delaware River. A spot where my wife and I would take our Bernese Mountain dog, Linus. Of the many spots along the river this particular place intrigues me. Is it the changing landscape? The hills in the faroff distance emanating a river of activity? The clues left behind by water that is no longer present, but instead an opportunity to explore and search in wonder what it would have looked like on that day?

 

I've been here many times and try each time to capture it either by photograph or by sketch. And each time I leave disappointed that I cannot. The energy I feel just isn't translating. Not to be deterred I try yet again.....to no avail. The hopes of capturing my intriguement on film went dashing down stream, plunging themselves into the frigid waters where I wasn't about to save them.

 

Before heading back to work I kick pebbles exploring formations and light patterns ahead of my path as I walk downstream. Occassionally I gander out of my sulking stroll to see where time and the change in occupied space takes me. It's the same place I've always been, but the perspectives change and with that a couple hundred feet away I see beauty and energy cast onto a big Sycamore. The need to touch and look closer carries me towards this life I have found on the shell of the tree. When I get within arms reach to really soak it all in I discover it has all but disappeared. The tree in front of me is but just a tree and the energy and beauty I seek has vanished before me. Or has it?

 

The thought of changing perspectives screams in mind to turn around and figure out where it has gone. And as I do the intriguing beauty, the mysterious energy I long to capture on paper and film is right there in front of me. This is Point Pleasant.