"Joe"

"A man is a success if he gets up in the morning,

and gets to bed at night, and in between

he does what he wants to do."~Bob Dylan

Recently I had the opportunity to crash at my friend Joe's place in Chicago. It was my first time in the Windy City and I was captivated by it. I stopped by on my way to the Midwest and then back again on the return journey. Each time we spent time up on the roof of his warehouse loft in the Fulton Market area. It is filled by day with lots of activity: meat packers, milk and egg distributors, etc. It also has a smattering of quaint little bistros offering some pretty amazing craft beer. It is very close to the downtown area yet seems to be removed and in its own little world. 

As a thanks for letting me stay at his place, I painted this little portrait of Joe. He's an old soul living in the body of a 23 year old. He is, among other things, a philosopher, a great photographer and a professional barista with Intelligentsia coffee. 

We met each other via a mutual interest in the life of Christopher McCandless. Our friendship has subsequently been enriched by a love of photography and the beauty of the world around us, good coffee and living a life of exploration. 

 Joe standing atop his apartment pointing out the various landmarks around his place..

"Joe", oil on panel, 10"x8", 2011, is a little thank-you for great hospitality. It is earthy and humble, like Joe. He has a favourite chair in his apartment, a chair in which he photographs all of his house guests before they depart. I sat in this chair and he took my photograph, and then I had him sit in the chair for my own photo reference. The "Joe" painting is the result of that photo shoot. 

The end to a great evening of great conversation, with the Sears Tower in the background

I haven't painted a direct portrait like "Joe" for a long time. To paint someone directly, to scan their features and try to interpret them in a meaningful way is difficult and thrilling because of its difficulty. The challenge is to see if one can infuse some magic into their features, to breathe life into a person that already lives and walks the earth. Many artists paint people, but the true test is to see if we can place the person's character into the piece, to mix some of their soul in with the pigment. 

Over the last few months I have concentrated on painting the figure in a more oblique way; mixed in with folds of sheets or silhouetted in doorways. They are in their own world, they are a part of the narrative that surrounds them. However to paint a simple, direct portrait one must abandon the accoutrements of the person's environment and simply focus on their features. The set of their brow, the curve of their mouth--these things are all who they are, and like no one else in the world. It is beautifully confounding and enticing.

As time passes I am trying to paint more people in exchange for travel or other great opportunities. It is a great and symbiotic exchange. It is a way of expressing thanks...it is what the artist can offer as our own appreciation to others for their kindness. It is the best currency of all.

On my return trip it was stiflingly hot in Joe's apartment. He pointed out his neighbour's hammock in the loft next door. He has slept here upon occasion and offered it to me as a choice of place to lay my head for the night. I knew it would be an interesting experience and I was right. I woke up to the El trains starting their day at 4:30am, then the birds starting theirs around 5am, and then the hum of the forklifts around 6am. It was unique and wonderful. Here is a photo of the view I woke up to...

5am view of the Chicago skyline from the hammock on the rooftop..

Have a beautiful day/evening/morning, wherever you may be...

"We shall not cease from our exploration and at the end 

of our exploring will be to arrive where we started...and know

that place for the first time."~T.S. Eliot

"Kerri, Aware"

Artists are like sharks: we must constantly move and continue creating or we will perish.

My time in the Midwest is drawing to a close, but I am pleased to have completed 2.5 paintings while here. "Kerri, Aware", oil on canvas, 18"x36", is the second of the trio. 

While here I have felt calm and able to approach the easel with excitement and enthusiasm each day. Calm, yes, but still the quiet voices that whispers "create, work, paint" are always echoing in my ear. I listen to them.

I do not kill myself with painting 10-12 hours a day. I know some artists who love to do this, but I know myself and that would be too much. I would become myopic and my painting would suffer. Instead, I choose 6-8 hours a day of focused time and when I feel my technique is starting to slip, or my eyes get too heavy, I stop. Always, always strive to place the paint as accurately and thoughtfully upon the canvas as possible. Otherwise you will produce milquetoast paintings. 

Two of the three paintings I brought with me here to the Midwest revolve around my friend Kerri and her house. Kerri is complex. She is multi-layered and has many facets. Kerri's mind is always moving, and she is one of the most insightful souls I have the pleasure to know. She has an energy to her that skips and whisks from one place to another. You can hear the cogs turning in her mind. 

So I find it ironic that I am painting her in a pose of repose. She may be sleeping, or maybe she is pondering any number of things. I think of Kerri as movement, yet she appears static here.

When we sleep, our beds become our world. Whether you are on an air mattress in a sleeping bag amidst the quaking aspens in central Alaska, or surrounded by deep duvets and mountains of fabric in Burlington, Ontario, we must traversr the landscape of our mind when we rest. 

I removed some things from the reference as I worked on this painting. I removed them so as to add important to the bat in the corner. I wanted the bat to be quietly there in the shadows. At the time when I shot the reference, I didn't really see the bat. But later I did, and I thought it must either be for home defence, or perhaps belong to one of her children. 

The second painting inspired by Kerri is a portrait of her room. The bed is now empty, the window is curtain-less. The palette inside is muted. The colours outside are a bit more vibrant and yet seemingly seen through a veil. Granted, this painting is still in progress, but I wanted to include it here to show the relation between the pieces and how they are quite connected. I find beds without figures in them just as intriguing as those with a person under the covers. 

Lastly, I have new friends here in the Midwest. They are fireflies. We have them in Ontario but they are elusive in the area where I live. Here, they are ubiquitous. I love them...they are evening companions that tread water in the air. They land on my hand and visit, then continue their voyage through the garden. Photographing them is tricky, but I did manage to get one shot, shown here. Have a beautiful weekend, wherever you are and remember to move as much as possible.