On the heels of a successful showing at the 2018 Our Redeemer Church and School Auction, this second attempt was commissioned by a private donor to be given as a birthday gift to her son (who happens to share my birthdate as well). It is different from No. 1 in many ways, but I think the significance of the moment rings true in both.

This is representative of a fourteen piece series completed for a personal art project I called 'Project35: Art as Process'. I developed the technique in late 2007 following my dear Grandfather's death, where following his funeral, I was given his treasure chest of audio and video equipment, most notably a working Kodak Carousel.

From the first flick of the power switch, I was drawn in by the bright light projection and steady, comforting hum. I knew I had to do something with this, and discover a new artistic side of myself.

I was exploring the practice of photography at that time, so it seemed a great use to adapt my digital photos by converting them to slides. I picked a handful of high contrast photos, and sent them off to have them converted. Once I had them I began exploring the process of projecting the images onto a gesso covered wood surface. Using black gel pen, I started out sketching the lines and forms that appeared. Through a learning process, I discovered that turning the projector off after a while allowed me to dig in and finish, making the piece my own.

Thumbing through a copy of The New York Times Magazine, I came across an article written about the author of The Gingerman, J.P. Donleavy. I had never read the book, but was immediately drawn by the author's photos, shown at home where he lives in Ireland. He seemed to have a great deal of character behind his eyes and within his subtle smirk.

So I drew him over and over, just for practice and unknowingly on the way to this, my first painted portrait.

Growing up in Texas, I never experienced winter quite like those in the midwest. When you travel north, winter becomes something you can count on. It’s reliably cold; freezing actually. You’ll never wonder whether or not a sweater or jacket will be “too much”. You could probably even plan on having a white Christmas, where down south you might never experience that mythical, sparkling phenomenon. Walking by this church one snowy afternoon, the concept of life and winter in the midwest sunk in: snow doesn’t mean everything is cancelled. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, even if your primary means of transportation is a bicycle. Arriving at your destination after traveling through soft snows and winter winds makes your effort that much more rewarding.

This marks the first painting in my latest artistic phase. I was inspired by a gift from my inlaws after their visit to Provence and the south of France, wherein they brought back a collection of raw paint pigments in powder form, taken locally from the same mines Van Gogh and others would have had access to during their time.

I was actually more inspired by the colors they produced, as each session revealed a truth to the colors I had been seeking: earthy, woody, pale, muted– they freed me from what I knew of paint mixing (very little up until then), and led me down the right path, one logical step at a time.

The subject is actually based on a photograph of my wife, taken on a stroll through Strausborg one summer evening. Breathtaking city, small and quaint, reminiscent of the gods of impressionism and the late 1890's and the great painters at the turn of the century.

I was saddened when I learned of the death of Anthony Bourdain, and more so when I discovered the event had taken place in this dear city. Simple yet ornate in its presentation, and full of history and conflict and depth altogether. A fitting place for a great soul's final rest.

Thumbing through a copy of The New York Times Magazine, I came across an article written about the author of The Gingerman, J.P. Donleavy. I had never read the book, but was immediately drawn by the author's photos, shown at home where he lives in Ireland. He seemed to have a great deal of character behind his eyes and within his subtle smirk.

So I drew him over and over, just for practice.