Into the Storm

Into the storm – Oil/canvas – 32 x 48 inches

Wooded river valleys, prairies, and small lakes surrounded by hills that changed during the seasons from green to gold to white were the landscapes of my childhood. Since I had not traveled even to the far shore of the Mississippi River, the mountains and deserts of the West held an irresistible attraction. This painting of an afternoon in November was the result of my first encounter with the Badlands of Nevada. A man, or a woman, alone except for a little dog, are walking to somewhere as a storm closes in. This was years ago. I felt at the time that no further explanation was necessary. I feel the same now.

#landscape #paisepintado #artistsoninstagram #art #artforsale #contemporaryart #contemporarypainting #realisticart #fineart #arte #painting #modernart #artlover #artdaily #visualpoetryphotography #landscapepainting #kunst #kunstwerk

More images and stories on my website: Source:

Calle Caballeros, Valencia

Calle Caballeros, Valencia – Oil/Canvas – 26 x 32 inches.

Spain has been on my mind because I’ll soon be living there for the next three months. Old, dilapidated parts of cities draw me into them and, in the case of Valencia, they embrace me – there’s no better word to describe the feeling of being welcomed. I used to think that it was the people who did the embracing, and they certainly do, but I came to realize that streets and buildings were doing it as well. One of my favorites is this yellow ruin in morning sunlight. It took me weeks to draw and paint it years ago. I’ll visit it soon and if it is still standing, perhaps I’ll be able to paint it again.

#art #contemporaryartist #artforsale #realistart #fineart #visualpoetry #painting #oilpainting #modernart #contemporarypainting #artist #kunst #artzone #artdaily #artoninstagram #kunstwerk #artlover #paintsketch #visualpoetry Source:

Crazy ‘Bout an Automobile

Every woman I know is crazy ’bout an automobile

Ry Cooder

For people who live in other parts of the world, one of the many baffling aspects of American life –- aside from, among other things, its racism, its prudishness about sex, and its tolerance of violence — is the fetishizing of The Automobile. Men tend to be even crazier about automobiles than women, and the names of cars often reflect aggressive masculinity: Gladiator, Roadmaster, Rampage, Cutlass, Marauder, Mustang, Cobra, Ram, Bronco… the list goes on. During my adolescence, the car of my dreams was no less than a Rocket 88. Alas, I was unable to afford one. This was probably good fortune and a guardian angel at work.

Read More