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Inspiration Fell Out of the Pages

A few days ago, a friend of mine loaned me a book, and as I flipped through the pages a small card fell out that read:

“The thing I love so much about working in Denver is that you can look out the window, down any street, and see western romance and reality in a head-on collision.” – artist Karen Kitchel

As a native of Denver, I love this quote. As an artist working in Denver I have always been inspired by the everyday images that are unique to my hometown. I think it is important as an artist to be aware of daily surroundings and how they can either intentionally, or unintentionally affect the outcome of creative expression. How does your environment affect you?

The view at my studio, just North of downtown Denver. In my opinion, a perfect example of "western romance and reality in a head-on collision."

Castles in the Sky

Recently, I came across the French idiomatic expression “faire des châteaux en Espagne.” In English, it has a similar meaning to “building castles in the sky.” It implies almost impossible, unattainable goals. It literally translates as, "building castles in Spain." According to some sources, this expression originated from a time many centuries ago when there weren't any castles in Spain. I had a “light bulb” moment when I discovered this expression. It describes my newest paintings so well. I love the idea of castles in the sky, and striving toward the nearly unachievable.

My most recent paintings embody this concept of “castles in the sky.” They are building thunderheads viewed at higher atmospheric levels, almost surreal and fortress-like. They have harder edges than my previous work yet still evoke a certain cloudy softness. I love this contradiction. I love the idea of striving toward the impossible, because I believe anything is possible. After all, there are now many castles in Spain.

Castles in the Sky, 22 x 30. Oil on watercolor paper.

Enchanted Sky, 40,000 ft, 22 x 30. Oil on watercolor paper.

40,000 ft Castle, 30 x 22. Oil on watercolor paper.

Cascading Break, 22 x 30. Oil on watercolor paper.

Works on Paper / Works in Progress

Maybe it is the abundance of natural light in my new studio or maybe it is my recent travels, but for some reason, lately I have felt compelled to start a new series of oil on paper paintings. I am captivated by the idea of a surreal dream-like world that exists in the upper levels of atmosphere. From an airplane window, I love looking at building thunderheads that are so striking from above, yet appear so ominous from below.

Posted below are two of my newest works on paper, both still in progress. I am planning a new series based around this theme of building thunderheads viewed from above. Stayed tuned for more soon...

Midsummer Night in Skagen

Browsing through my photos from this summer, I came across these from Skagen, Denmark. There was something disorienting and otherworldly about midnight in Skagen. That late night sky still haunts me. The sun was just setting below the horizon, only to rise a couple hours later. I watched as the Baltic and North Seas met tumultuously at the tip of Skagen, while an eerily orange full moon rose to the East. I felt as though I had stepped into a surreal dream world, and I was enchanted.

Every Painter Should Read This Book

Fig, Joe. Inside the Painter's Studio. New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 2009.

I recently picked up a copy of Inside the Painter’s Studio, an insightful book by artist, Joe Fig. I was captivated. The author interviews inspirational painters such as Chuck Close, Ryan McGinness, and April Gornik along with beautiful photos of their studios. Each artist is given a set of questions to answer pertaining to their studio and the creative process that occurs within the studio walls. Each answer provides greater comprehension into the mysterious creative process. As I read the responses, I found myself relating to this sometimes difficult-to-articulate, intangible artistic process. It made me much more aware of the great importance of a good workspace, allowing for the maximum amount of pure, uninterrupted creative thought and expression.

I especially loved artist, Ross Bleckner’s response to the question, “Do you have a motto or a creed that as an artist you live by?”

Life is short. Life goes fast. And what I really want to do in my life is to bring something new, something beautiful, and something filled with light into the world. I try to think of that every day so that I can remember why I am coming to my studio. And then the other thing is, just go, just show up.

Emotional Reactions

First of all, I want to apologize for my blogging hiatus. It’s been a busy summer filled with travel and change. I spent most of my summer in Europe, getting goose bumps from art masterpieces.

From Munch’s haunting work at the National Museum in Oslo, to the dramatic work of Caravaggio at the Uffizi in Florence, I became overcome by one universal quality of art; it’s eternal. The Scream still has the power to evoke an emotional reaction from all who stop to contemplate it, and Caravaggio’s work still brings tears to the eyes of thousands of tourists from all over the world, every day.

I was blown away by the command that these works continue to have over all who view them in person, even though these masterpieces were created so long ago. Good art transcends time, cultural boundaries, societal standards, and connects us all through strong emotional reactions that tie us together as human beings. It is a wonderful thing to experience.

Some masterpieces that impacted me this summer:

Vinternatt i fjellene, Harald Sohlberg, 1914. The National Museum, Oslo, Norway.

The Scream, Edvard Munch, 1893. The National Museum, Oslo, Norway.

Medusa, Caravaggio, 1587. Uffizi, Florence, Italy.