Where are my workshops?
Reader lynnandjanice recently asked if I teach or hold workshops. I regularly get this question. Gifted teachers are rare. The first real art instructor I ever had when I was 13 possessed the gift. Her words imprinted themselves on me and unlocked the mysteries of drawing. I experienced something similar with a math teacher in
Cincinnati fail
When I graduated high school, I didn’t have the moral courage to go to New York, which is what I wanted to do. Instead, a friend and I applied to the Cincinnati Art Academy. She was devastated when she received a rejection letter. That effectively ended her art career. I didn’t get a rejection letter
Woodshop by the lake
I use my small backyard shed as my woodshop. I would rather do my carpentry in that cramped space than have the sawdust from my table saw in the studio. Even modest carpentry jobs like frame and stretcher building produce A LOT of sawdust. In the warm weather, I keep the shop doors open to
New series
I am embarking on a new series: Amusement Park. After my last visit to Cedar Point, I’ve amassed 1500 photos. I bought a season pass and intend many more visits. Amusement Park joins my two other series: Playhouse Square, and Main Street. I am still have many more paintings in the works in the Main
It’s all been done before
Yesterday, I determined to finish Woman in White-stripped Dress. Even though I failed, I was excited to get back at it again today. This afternoon, I ran out of gas before finishing it. Oh well. Sometimes I can force myself to continue after I’m gassed but there is a chance I’ll spoil the work when
Smooth is best
Rereading what I wrote about preparing a canvas, I realized that I didn’t emphasize the main goal enough. Yes, it’s important to protect the canvas, but the real goal is to make a great surface. The best surface is smooth. How smooth? If you’ve done lithography, then you know how wonderful litho stones are for
Family mystery
My great-grandfather Ramey had a fierce personality. Even in his 90’s, he had no time for nonsense, epically from unruly children such as me. My grandmother ascribed her father’s fierceness to his harsh childhood. Orphaned early, his adopted family treated him as little more than a servant. One day, my grandmother’s oft-repeated story went, her
Ragged easel
My Utrecht easel has served me well. True, it’s held together with glue and clamps, but it still handles the large-size paintings that I make. One thing the easel lacks is a place to rest a palette, even a small one. I keep my normal palette on a mobile cabinet that I wheel around as