Somethings happens to me when I’ve been working in the studio for hours. I think it is one major reason why I love to paint. When staring down at a palette full of paint, scraping a little ultramarine, mixing it into yellow ochre, knowing I need to add a bit of alizarin crimson into the cadmium red, dumping in a mound of flake white, all to create my personal grayed-down color of choice, I lose sense of time. The freedom to remix, repaint, can also be my vice and the end to an otherwise promising artwork.
But then…it’s the end of the day and the sun is setting and I have to walk Deke. Suddenly, nothing appears as it did before. The colors in reality are just proportions of paint, I can see the cerulean and the phthalo blues. I am instantly inspired by the edge of where a wall meets the sky, and I can see thousands of paintings that I wish I could make into reality, instantaneously.
This addiction to color and light also kept me working for years in the glass studio. Just check out that shadow on the floor of a work in progress and tell me it’s not a work of art in itself.
Sometimes I have a camera with me to grasp these moments to use as models for paintings. Here are a few, alas, never painted, but in the storage bank.