Mixed media (cubist)

I used Conte' crayons, charcoal and pencil on this piece. It was made back in '90 while I was in College. It was one of my only experiments with cubist style. It's actually grown on me the more that I look at it.
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I'm in the sandbox.

It seems that I've been pulled out of the sandbox today and got my first hits on this site that were generated by Google rather than a link from my parent site A Posse Ad Esse.
My little expressive site is growing up...
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Scribble 1

Digging, always digging.

Shoving the earth around.

Making it better, more functional.

Like plastic surgery on an old woman.


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Some time in 1992 while in Saudi Arabia.

B&W India Ink on 100% cotton paper

Well the title says it all. This illustration was made from a mix of straight black india ink, and a wash of dilluted india ink. I created this toward the end of 1989 or early 1990 during my freshman year in college. I was focusing on art at the time, and was really enjoying experimenting with different media. Someday I'd like to revisit this type of work, but till then, I always enjoy this particular piece. My wife always liked this piece as well and it hung in our last home for a while.

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The world inside my dreams.

My eyes, they see not the things they wish to;
a solitary bluff of green grass topped by a tree,
with rolling fields of grain and wild horses roaming.
An intoxicating world, a playground for you and me.

These things I say I wish to see have been hidden or killed off by us,
A rushed society of material things with factories spilling smoke.
Our engines that we make, they pollute us too.
We must take this problem more seriously, for it's really not a joke.

Our ancestors, they called our home a land of virgin soil.
They said also that our lands would yield bountiful crops; and so they did.
And I say did, for our land is drying out, for we have misused it.
Things like this I did not notice when I was just a kid.
But now I do.

And now I only see these things in my peaceful dreams.
These dreams of spacious meadows, of gently blowing wind.
The quiet world of forests and unpolluted streams
and I dread the moment of daybreak at which time my dreams must end.

I long to see these things again, the things I've never seen,
I wish to go at least once again to where I've never been.
To my world of forests with gently flowing streams,
the world I love so very much, the world inside my dreams.
P~ 4-15-86

I had to chuckle as I transcribed this to the blog. I wrote so dramatically didn't I? "For this'', and "for that..." oh well, I was 15 and in 9th grade. I Guess I was a bit of a greenie before it was vogue huh? I had to fight the temptation to edit and change the way the poem read. I think I could re-write it better, but it is what it is, I want to document it as such. Maybe some time in the future I'll get back to it.

Hope you like.
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Where to begin?

At the beginning of course. So here are a couple of the earliest things that I have. They're not great works of art by any means, but hey, we all start somewhere. right? I obviously wasn't thinking of my future need for historical accuracy when I drew them because I didn't bother including a date but since they were both done before my Grandfather passed away, I would put them at some time before I was 7, that was '78 (alright now, everyone stop adding that up in your head!) Thanks to my moms meticulous care for all things creative by me, I have them still and really do enjoy looking back.



I've been going through the collection of writings and drawings that I have and trying to decide which one I want to share, and how, and it may take a little bit to get consistent. I'm really excited about it though.
Glad you stopped by.
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