Sitting in my studio I let the private me take over. The me that remains silent when with friends, talking art. Something about the pouring forth of an idea for one of my paintings has to stay silent, even with the models posing for a concept that grips me.
Someday, the model before me will be a mother, a thought that often comes to mind as I mix the perfect flesh tone to capture the warmth radiating from her. Just that momentary thought brings reasons for what I am putting on canvas, with great care in my work. A ray of light weaves its way through the summer leaves of the tree that protects my studio window from the elements, tells me the day is ending. It settles in the open palm of my model's hand, almost panicking me into a rush to capture that small surprise gift of sunlight. Models see my desire just to capture that centimeter of light, and without my begging, grant me extra time to satisfy the desire.
These little surprise elements are treasures that make up my art. I take great care with how I handle them. A model tickling a curled up puppy with her toes is unexpected, or pulling a pillow over her face to shade herself from the late afternoon sun. Concepts grow as my canvases take life. Even the landscapes have their surprise gifts, as a cloud drifts over the setting sun and cows take in an evening snack from a fresh hay bale. I accept all these gifts ,and that is what they are.
Speed is my enemy, and holding myself back, at times, is a strength I value. The quick studies that take three days are my secret, in that they grow well before reaching a canvas.
