Changing Leaves

I recently sat down with Melodie Long, the pastor of our local presbyterian church.  I wanted to discuss the process of becoming a lay pastor as a member of the Presbyterian Church (USA); its' merits and the process of discerning a applicant's suitability and calling.  I think the word "calling" is a frightening word.  The word "calling", is a word that for me immediately conjures up feelings of inadequacy, and expectations of clarity in regard to God's will; and maybe it should, or maybe I'm just displaying my own immaturity in one of yet many areas of my personal faith.  Is it possible that the call to vocational ministry, and that of being a working artist are similar?  I think they can't help but be, especially when the artist work is tied to the individual's spirituality, such as mine is.   

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Time is not really my companion, and November 5th was no exception to the rule. 

I cast all blame on my Mother, a strong willed woman who moves within the confines of this world at the speed of a clock that is subject to her rule only.  I don't consider that to be a bad thing though, in fact I attribute some of my best characteristics to my Mom.  My Mother's stubborn will, skeptical mind, and insatiable desire to be her own person on her own terms are good examples of inherited traits I picked up from her.  However, on the night of the artist reception and awards ceremony for the 2011 Fine Art Show, none of those inherited traits served me well in prioritizing my day to be there when the doors opened (so to speak).   (More)

It is now 7 days before the 2011 Fine Art Show opens at the Dulles State Office Building in Watertown NY; and I've been hard at work making preparations for the show. (More)

It's official, I've completed the graded portion of my wildlife management and forest conservation program with Penn Foster Career School.  The last unit of study was a rather intensive look at wildlife law enforcement; it covered everything from history of wildlife law to firearms, search and seizure, and arrest.  Life caused me to struggle through my studies the week prior to my exam; but I made it.  My graded studies ended with a final 100% on the last exam; I'm ok with that.  As a treat for all my hardwork I traveled to the Adirondack Mountains, to Panther Pond, on a short backpacking trip with family. (More)

With the deadlines of submittals for the NCAC Fall Art Show closing in I was still wrestling with whether or not it was time to take the plunge into public showings.  Did I want to expend the required resources to frame my work (not necessary with online sales and promotion)?  Did I have the time to put together something to enter (always a consideration)?  Was I opposed to using older pieces, or did I want to submit a entry that was more modern?  Could my work carry its' own weight when compared to the work of some other brilliant artist in the north country's art world?  Or, was I just afraid to put myself and my work on display?  I decided that nerves are just part of the game, after all, even the massively successful musicians of the band Switchfoot were nervous about releasing their latest album (which is amazing from the bits and pieces I've heard of it). (More)

It should come as no surprise to myself that in the earlier days of the 2011 fall season that I have new projects beginning to flourish and old ones coming to a close.  Fall for me always seems to be a time of reflection and new beginnings; the heck with spring, autumn is my season.  My wife and I were married when the leaves were changing, I began my training in taekwondo 3 years ago as the sky turned gray, and I aqcuired the DBA for my studio 3 years ago near the eve of winter.  I always seem to make my greatest gains in my spiritual life, while searching for signs of life, in a world of crimson and gold flora.  I love the fall.  Its odd to me that as I struggle to escape death, through discipline of exercise and appetite, I can find such serenity and peace of self in a beauty that becomes the death and rebirth of the world. (More)

I left the office of the day job about 5 minutes ago; and now I'm sitting in the studio at my home office, contemplating the breathes of my work day and the actions that they fueled.  I'm listening to my favorite band, Counting Crows, Adam Duritz serenading my thoughts; today is a pop day for me, and I don't have many of them. (More)

It's sometimes strange when viewing my portfolio of work, and trying to figure out how to get it to the masses.

I think I want what all artist want; to be recognized.  It's a tough line to pull though.  I, like most artist, am a little bit uncomfortable in the spotlight.  It's a tragic oxymoron.  I am a veteran of the U.S. Army, and in 11 years in uniform (1 of those years was spent in the  United States Marine JROTC program) I gained some essential skill, being the voice in front of people, when need be.  However, when it's all said and done, I'm far more comfortable when I'm not. (More)

When I woke up this morning I rolled around for several minutes, trying to shake the fog of sleep from my mind, as well as avoid the brisk air circulating in my bedroom; by heeding the call of the warmth of my bed. (More)

It's just past the mid point of August, and the breath of autumn is in the air.

That may seem odd to hear, but I think it's true. (More)

What remains amazing to me is that people are so quick to judge christians, or make statements pertaining to the theology of the faith (or scripture) without knowledge of the Word.

I don't typically use this blog as a pulpit (or maybe I do of sorts), nor do I make a effort to make statements regarding my politics, however a recent article I read in yahoo news must have touched a nerve.

Not because it was very heavy laden, but because of the flawed thinking that precipitated it.  I immediately followed with a tweet on the subject; I'll paraphrase what the article was about here.  Michele Bachmann was asked if she was elected president whether her decisions would be influenced by her submission to her husband; as she had, at some point, pursued her law degree due to his suggestion. (More)

I've, at moments in my life, been known to take on a bit more than I can chew.

That may or may not be a character flaw;  it's still waiting to be determined. 

I consider myself to be on a accelerated journey of personal growth, and understanding.  I believe that my quest for growth and understanding is what separates me from being ordinary. 

When I left the military in the spring of 2008 I took a leap into the unknown, and in some ways that feels like an eternity ago; in others it feels just like yesterday.  One thing is for certain, although at times I miss the uniform, I never regret my decision to leave the military. (More)

I'm what you might call a seeker, it's true.

I can't stand the mundane, I love how life looks when we remove the filters.  In the blinding naturalness of routine life I see the utility in the everyday, but strive to exist in a reality that screams there is something else that lies beneath the surface.  Something beautiful, vivid, and purposeful. Enduring.

Every once in a while the filters of life lift temporarily and we get a glimpse of a world we normally don't see; it often happens for me on walks to and from my desk job; or on the early morning hikes I sometimes take before the toils of the day demand my full attention.  Nature has a beautiful personality that way; penetrating and revealing, so much so that if we are not cautious, it is possible that we will  mistake the created for the Creator.

It's summer now, but in the early spring I experienced one of those revealing moments.  I was walking along one of my normal routes, back to my home at mid-day, to enjoy some lunch with my bride.  I walk that route frequently, basically because I enjoy the serenity of the passage; as opposed to the bustling activity of the village, the street is placid.  The wind that day was brisk, creating chaos out of peace; the kind of wind that seems to wash the impurity from your bones with every gust.  From this street there are several breaks in the foliage where you have a clear view of Lake Ontario, its' large body spreading out only to be constrained by the walls of Black River Bay.

As I walked in moving meditation, I became aware of a pair of gulls struggling to find an even course through the tumultuous breeze; and finding none.  The birds flight paths contorted, they twisted, and often seemed to collide in their wildness.  Then suddenly the gulls broke free from their fight, the next gust in hot pursuit, they disappeared behind a layer of barren trees.  In their wake was left only a field of haunting grey rain clouds, hurtling silently through the sky...and they spoke to me; in their imagery I could see the hand of God, Its' presence reminding me once again that even in the midst of chaos there is a peaceful personality at work.

My observations of that scene, and the feeling that I felt were the inspiration for the newest piece currently on my drawing table (On A Spring Breeze).

I hope your heart is touched by God today.  Enjoy your blessings.

If you enjoy my work why not take a moment and support it by sharing it on facebook or twitter.

In a world of key punchers, social networking gurus and digital artist, I sometimes feel like artist are missing a key ingredient as they move through their lives.

Many artist move through their lives/careers never seeming to move beyond their dreams; alseep in a wash of soda pop, alcohol, sleepless nights, and comic books etc.  they spend their nights fumbling over words in blogs or doodling in $9.95 sketch books, creating images never to be seen by anyone.  Developing snapshots of a world destined never to be discovered, afraid to create anything tangible for people to see.  Instead they wallow in their own weariness, struggling to trudge through each day, their eyes fixed on computer screens seated on desk at their day jobs.  They struggle to stay attuned to the real vision of their lives. 

Their day jobs are a means to an end, but over time they begin to take on a life of their own; it seems that they become the end, instead of the means.  After work they struggle to find the energy, will, and time to commit to anything other than disappearing into their sofas; their intuition and thoughts too numb to be of use creatively; they fall victim to the TV, becoming lost in corporate dribble, and the nauseating news of a country that appears to be falling into collapse.  Their dreams, are filled with ghostly memories of gun shots, perceived injustice, and disasters; they experienced these things not while breathing in the air of the tree's, and scent of the lakes, but by observing images and sounds they digested through their eyes and ears while barricaded in the stale air of their homes.  Their world becomes a figment of someone else's imagination;  a construct of hypothetical, and contradictory opinions and ideas.  They shy away from the reality of their lives to live these imaginary truths; and by not living in the real world they depreciate their spirits and lose the inspiration to do more.

What bothers me is the loss of exposure that follows.

It shouldn't be a fact lost on anyone that exposure is a necessary component in authentically living the life of a creative.  Without exposure no one will ever see the artistic light which glows within you; and without being seen you will never be able to garner support from those who would be interested in revealing your work to others.  Additionally, without the vital support that exposure can bring, you will never be able to realize the necessary monetary support needed to continue you work.

Exposure in itself seems to be a lost art.  The crime of the situation is that by creative types failing to expose themselves to the world, the world is losing its' access to the combined body of work, and the spirit of artist everywhere; and so continues the downward spiral of creative lives, as well as originality in the arts.

I'm not certain, but I've heard from a few sources that a local star of the visual arts, Paul Lee (Watertown, New York), had grown in fame by producing work in public; at bars, and in restaurants etc., at times bartering his work for drinks or what have you.  It would be hard to tell fact from fiction in his story without a sit down conversation with him, but even a urban legend usually contains a grain of truth.

After giving Paul's story some thought, I recently decided to experiment with his style of exposure.  While sitting in for lunch at Tin Pan Galley (here in Sackets Harbor, New York), I quickly rendered a pencil drawing on a sheet of printer paper, intending it to be presented to my server with a cash tip;  In doing so I attracted the attention of the older couple seated next to me, as well as that of another staff member who offered to deliver the drawing (when I found out my server's shift had ended).  There were pleasant smiles, genuine interest, and authentic appreciation expressed from everyone involved with my tiny experiment. 

Exposure.  Beautiful exposure.

Don't limit yourself today, live fully and authentically, and don't shelter you unique light from the world.

P.S. I don't know whether or not my server actually received my drawing.  However, the results were satisfying either way.  Still, I hope she did receive it; and I hope she smiled.

When I was a child I was terrified of the dark.

As a teenage boy I was fascinated by it; and as a young man in the Army, the night became a companion.

Now, when the stars light up the world, I am awed by the depth of their mystery.

There is a truth to be found, while standing in a field of dew soaked grass, under a canopy of stars; and I often find myself searching for it.

Being a father of two small children, I frequently am doing chores late into the night; as the sun fades, followed by the lights of my neighbor's windows, and then finally blackness decends on the earth.  All that remains is the dim glow of the street lights, which line the sidewalks, and stillness.  The only movement is that of the small creatures that make the night their home, and the illusion of the stars passing over head, as the earth silently spins on its' axis.

The immediate truth is that we are so small in comparison to the universe's visible greatness.  It is at once both terrifying and amazing that, despite our small scale, we wield so much power.  The power to effect change.

Recently, while I was participating in the National Fenestration Rating Council's 2011 spring meetings, I was gifted once again to witness change in motion.

I was seated in a conference room, at Bally's Las Vegas, as the scene began to unfold.  Surrounded by the brightest minds of the fenestration product industry, I was observing the ongoing dialogue of the various personalities which were working to reach concensus on the best manner to present the thermal performance ratings of attachment products to the public.  As the debate went on I was captivated by the energy in the room.

There, in that moment, I developed the image shown in the heading of this post.  Entitled Starlit Globe, the piece is an abstract representation of the conversation that took place that day in Las Vegas.

I am a man of faith, and an artist.  Given those two truths I suppose that it should come of no surprise, that while observing a debate centered on the appropriateness of using the images of stars and bars as icons to indicate energy performance, my imagination would stretch to make the connection between it and the cosmos.  When it did, I felt it necessary to capture the emotion that the thought contained, and package it in a way that the world could share in the moment.

This is my contribution.

Have a beautiful day, and be inspired by the night.

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