Moonblog 2026
This isn't really about the moon, I started out calling it a moonblog because I had an enthusiastic and youthful ambition to make a new homepage image twice a month on the new and full moon. The home page shows a featured image —sometimes freshly minted, sometimes seasonal, sometimes from years past— along with improvised ruminations, something like a leisurely blog. Previous years’ entries are here for your perusal; see the links, below.
The sharp-eyed visitor will notice that the year 2020 is entirely missing. I'll let you guess possible reasons for that. Also, 2023 seemed to dribble off into the sunset in late March. I can honestly blame Covid and a general sense of losing track. This year is already off to a slow start. I think what I'll do is add some hits from the past to fill in most of this year. I'll pick up the regularity in good time, perhaps with a more realistic schedule. 2026 in fact is already re-cycling what little happened in 2025.
Huerfano
A watercolor from 2018, the year we moved finally to Mountain Water. The sky here in southern Colorado can be thrillingly active, especially the way clouds wrap themselves around mountains. It's practically flirtatious. Sometimes watercolors can imitate the quality of visual reality without pretending to depict reality, if that makes any sense. From the painter's point of view this experience seems to occur by grace rather than skill or artifice. It's one of the things that make the life of the so-called artist worth living. This image here was part of a several weeks engagement.
Waxing Crescent Moon ~ June 18th, 2026
J-Saw
Someone viewing this recently said it reminded her of jigsaw puzzles. So be it. This is one of many small watercolors I've been playing with in recent months. I do have the idea to do some of these in a much larger size, probably three-panel numbers nine feet in length. Meanwhile I do enjoy these at the petit scale of 7 1/2 x 15 inches.
New Moon ~ May 16th, 2026
Cougar
This is another small painting that could be imagined as a very large painting, say, eight feet by eight feet. This one was a quick demonstration painting for a student to show the possibilities of inventing shapes and areas purely based on a relaxed combination of whim and discretion. Interesting things sometimes emerge in the absence of any “big ideas” lurking nearby, much more likely than setting out to make a big splash. Everyone has experienced the belly flop at one time or another.
When I was a student at Massachusetts College of Art in Boston - that was in the mid-1900s - we were discouraged from seeing images or making literal associations in abstract paintings. I get the logic of that but why limit the experience? A friend visiting recently saw a cougar rearing its head in this painting. So for now I'm calling it Cougar
New Moon ~ May 1st, 2026
Pot
I ran across this drawing from some years ago. It was part of an assignment I did alongside my students in a class called Advance Drawing. The mission, should you decide to accept it, is an old idea: take any subject and render it one hundred times. There are numerous examples of this in widely disparate geographical settings going back some centuries. Hokusai's One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji, or Alfred Leslie's One Hundred Views Along The Road, or Jennifer Bartlett's In The Garden come to mind. You can take the exercise in any number of directions, some of which suggest themselves as you proceed. It's a good way to shake the dust off of a stagnant art practice, too.
New Moon ~ April 17th, 2026
Keyhole Saw
Here's an old favorite from a quarter of a century ago. It was part of a series called Implements, which grew out of an illustration assignment from 2003 or so. This one didn't find its way into the series owing to its non-conforming composition; the others were mostly in a vertical format. Over the years I find myself coming back to the activity of drawing and painting ordinary things. I suppose all kinds of supercilious narratives could be imposed onto this practice. Or not. If you're interested, you can view this one's estranged cousins in the Implements series on this website here
Full Moon, April Fool's Day, 2026
Sphinx Visitor
I don't know how I came to have this photograph, and I don't know the identity of the smiling man posing in front of the Sphinx and Great Pyramid, quite likely during the second world war. The human time embedded in this image is close to 5000 years. The sunlit man appears to be an American GI, perhaps seeing a larger world for the first time. The Sphinx and Great Pyramid behind him have been around the block a few times since their construction somewhere around 2,500 B.C. I often wonder with pictures such as this: Does anyone know who this man is? If he is still alive he would be quite old. Perhaps his children would recognize him. But what are the chances of seeing this here? In any case, he is clearly quite pleased to be standing where he is for this photograph.
New Moon ~ March 18th, 2026
Implied Figure
Sometimes I imagine a small sketch like this as if it were a large canvas, like six by eight feet. I've done this in the past: following that inclination and ending up with what I would call a “jumbo painting”, and I don't mean that in a good way. Bigger isn't necessarily better. The world and it's resources might be better off if we left a lot of things to the imagination. On the other hand, you don't necessarily find out unless you do it. For the time being, the jumbo version of this painting will continue as a twinkle in the eye.
Full Moon ~ March 5th, 2026
Bark Firehorse
I wonder if there is a word to describe things that happen to look like something intentionally created? This image is a random piece of bark from a cottonwood log. Many strange associations are possible, some of them kind of creepy.
On the other hand, the bark piece was discovered in our stack of firewood, it resembles a horse, the lunar year that starts tomorrow is a Fire Horse year. The best of coincidence. The bark Fire Horse is photographed on the concrete floor of the studio at Mountain Water. Make of it what you will.
New Moon ~ February 16th, 2026
Chance Gelli #7
This is one of a series of gelli prints using discarded plastic wrap. The results are generally unknowable beforehand, being completely up to how the ink and plastic wrap decide to mate. The sepia ink color mimics a feeling of European etchings from the 15th century, or faded brush landscapes from ancient China. Or they avoid suggesting anything at all. This engages something other than assumptions about looking at a conventional “picture”, and strange things can happen in the viewer's mind, things that don't employ verbal language or conceptualized theory. Try it sometime - it's fun!
Waxing Gibbous Moon ~ January 29th, 2026
House on Pamet River
This is a copy of an Edward Hopper painting from a century ago. His original is in color but the copy here is taken from a black and white reproduction, a good opportunity to practice making the paint lighter and darker as needed. I do this exercise from time to time to keep in shape. I also recommend it for anyone who uses watercolor; concentrating on just the light and dark of what we see or visualize bypasses the complication of working in full color. This works equally well with both representational and abstract compositions. In this instance, the basic color is actually a mix of phtalo blue and burnt umber; it gives this strange, antique feeling that seems richer than just black and white.
New Moon ~ October 21st, 2025