Elysian Veneer
acrylic, leafing, toner, and wax on panel
7 3/4" square, 2011 — SOLD

I might be setting myself up for some heated debate comparing La Canada-Flintridge to Elysium. . . assuming there are any people acquainted enough with either place enough to take up the issue.

The Act of Disappearing Completely
acrylic, toner, watercolor, powdered graphite, and wax on board
24" x 18", 2011 — $1,400

This seemed an appropriately titled image for the final weekend of my exhibit at the Oregon College of Art & Craft. I have heard from a number of folks that they've made it up into Portland's West Hills to take a look, and I want to thank you all for your support.

The Act of Disappearing Completely has stirred up more response than any other work I've completed these past months. In the show it is housed in an antique frame sprayed down with a thick coat of oily black lacquer. I believe that this finish contributes a tremendous amount of additional resonance to the work. It is one of those instances where the frame is designed to be a part of the piece, not simply offset the image.

Originally I had titled this work In and Under, because I was convinced that The Act of Disappearing Completely, which had been kicking around in my head for months, was the title of a Radiohead song. I finally dug through my albums only to discover that the song in question was actually called How to Disappear Completely. If you listen to it, I think it would be easy to draw a few parallels. . .

Wisdom and War
acrylic, toner, copper leaf, and wax on board
7" x 5", 2011 — SOLD

Continuing along with the antiquity theme. . .

I always thought Athena's attributes to be oddly incongruous with each other. The only thing that could have made her story more ironic to a modern audience was if the oil she happened to be the originator of was crude instead of olive.

Genitor
acrylic, toner, charcoal, pastel, and wax on panel
10.5" square, 2011 — $450

There are many depictions of God's head floating disembodied from the firmament. . . As Christianity came to prominence in Rome, which was in turn shaped a great deal by the Greeks, it is a simple thing to see in the visage of Zeus the blueprint for all Father-figures to come in the Western world.

Always photograph every work of art you make before it leaves your studio. Do not think that you will have the time or inclination to do this later. You won’t.

Why won’t you? Perhaps because you shouldn’t. You should be on to making new work and allowing the mental energy and time you have to be directed towards the present, not the past. That seems like the most pertinent reason.

Perhaps you won’t photograph that work because it is a hassle to pull it from its frame (and, presumably, reframe it). Perhaps it has already sold. Perhaps it was destroyed in shipping.

At this point you may be asking why you should even care about photographing every work before it leaves your studio. In my experience the reasons are far more practical than inspirational (although examples from both will be provided).

On the practical side of things, you’ll want the image so as to include it in your applications for grants and residencies. You will want the image to add to your website. While these arguments are lacking in glamour, their logic is irrefutable.

On a more inspirational note: you may want to reference the image in a future work. You will be working on this new work and realize that the older work (according to your faulty memory, which is the only record you have in this scenario) actually began some trope that is only now being made manifest as such in your newer work. The intrinsic value of that undocumented work has now just skyrocketed, and allowing it to escape your hands without a photographic record seems like the most grievous error you’ve ever made.

In short, do not allow your work to be previewed by collectors before photographing it. Do not let it be framed before photographing it. Do not let a single work you create reside only in your memory because your inability to access a reproduction will haunt you for years to come. Those works that get away will climb effortlessly to the heavens where they will reside as the finest works of your hand perhaps based solely on the fact that you have no way to refute their lofty claims without a digital photo or slide.

While you’re at it, I’ve also found it exceedingly helpful to record the following information about every work you photograph:

TITLE, YEAR OF COMPLETION
MATERIALS USED
DIMENSIONS, FULL SALE PRICE,
LOCATION COMPLETED

More on the specifics of each of the above categories to come soon. . . 

The Sky a Bruise, and the Land.
acrylic, watercolor, toner, graphite, and wax on panel
5" x 10 3/8", 2011 — $350

Quite a few of the new works in the Collected show explore the visual tension between the strictly photographic and the obviously painted. This image began as the lower half of another composition. After seeing the elements of the composition together I became convinced they'd be stronger when separated and introduced the table saw into the process. 

Not surprisingly, when someone was joking with me last week about just cutting works in half to make more art for the show I had a hard time suppressing a laugh.

Snag
acrylic, tea, toner, graphite and wax on 
cheesecloth wrapped panel
6" square, 2011 — $300

Every few days over the course of the next month I’ll post a new work that is exhibited in the Collected show at the Oregon College of Art & Craft. My hope is that this will serve as some sort of substitute for those who can’t make it in person; albeit with the well-hashed caveat that it is a poor replacement for the real subtleties of personal engagement.

* * * * *
At the crest of a coastal cliff the snag stood defiant in the face of its disaster; a stance that seemed both admirable and ridiculous.