The scent of linseed oil comforts me. I smell linseed and I’m a child back in my parent’s basement with a fresh set of paint-by-number oil paints. The oil would have to be stirred into the pigment if it were an older set. Sometimes I would spill the small pools of oil as I stirred. I remember losing track of time and space, swimming in color. I felt safe. Everything was orderly. I was good at staying inside the lines. It felt safer than just making things up. I eventually became pretty good at accurately representing on canvas what I saw in the world. At first my goal was to accurately capture whatever I was painting, and hopefully evoke a sense of place and time and emotion. Over time I felt a need to communicate more immediacy and emotion through my brush strokes. My later paintings have a looser feel. Below are a few of my favorites in no particular order. The creation of these pieces spans three decades and are all in private collections now. My linseed oil is packed away, leaving space for a new medium of wax and fire. To see my current body of work, go to the Broken Crayon Collection.
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