Tuesday, February 7, 2023
Wednesday, October 26, 2022
Texas Artist of the Year Nomination.
Honored and humbled to be considered for Texas Artist of the Year. I'd hang my hat on these selections out of two series. Both were begun when my beloved wife Katie Wintters was diagnosed with cancer in 2014. We both moved closer and closer to home as that cycle progressed. I thought it was a good idea to quit traveling and stay home and work on still life photos.
I'm a very native regionalist. I work out of my home and yard on Lindsey Lane in Tyler, Texas. I trust the everything I need is within arms reach here in the upper Blackford Creek Watershed.
My work flow is as follows: An idea arrives in my imagination. I think of ways to get it on a piece of film. I keep failing until it arrives.
Tornadoes arrived and blew through my studio.
Tuesday, October 18, 2022
Out of the Clint Wilhour estate.
Two cyanotypes added to the 22 pieces in the Museum of Fine Arts Houston collection. These are the first ones from this century, my most productive by far. Just like Clint to get them in. I'm grateful.
Two images made out of the the neighborhood, the yard, and within arms reach.
Sunday, April 10, 2022
Still available as card from Borealis Press, Blue Hill Maine.
Saturday, April 9, 2022
The fabulous Bryn Larson and Geoffrey Koslov represent me at Fotorelevance in Houston. There's a flat file full of photographs that will heal the lame, let the blind see and make the poor rich. Everybody should have a few.
I'm in most of the good museum collections in the region, and some of the bad ones. I was at the height to my powers...then this happened. Now people will probably bring babies to me to be named.
Scroll down far enough and there are cyanotypes, Guatemalan Sunflowers, Penumbra, Shiprock, et.
Guggenheim dark side...
I fully acknowledge that I am intended to use my newly bestowed powers for GOOD and not EVIL...
But last night, out dancing, with the Blue Gypsy, I remembered a jam-out-darkroom-film-processing-session and realizing that a song I liked...was a PERFECT double-step.
Perfect. I'm not guessing.
The place we were in isn't a hard honky tonk. It's about 1/2 Tonk on the English Honky-Tonk scale. Maybe 3/5ths Tonk on the Metric. Nice joint.
So I stick a post-it with request on a dollar bill and stroll over to the DJ booth. I just happen to know that the DJ has an art degree.
I hit him with the request. His eyes go a bit wide as he reads and the first words he blurts out are "I don't think I can play that."
This is a song by an American artist. I'm in America. It's Friday night in Texas, by god. I want Nelly. "Ride Wit Me." I give him a poker face like I can see the Matrix inside him.
"Do you know what a Guggenheim Fellowship is?" He does. "Well, grasshopper, I'm a Guggenheim Fellow. Just announced. And I want this song R...F...N. I've requested and I've tipped. And do I need to mention the Guggenheim Fellowship again?"
Poor guy just crumbled. Face fell apart. Like watching a vampire burn away in daylight. San Angelo State.
Three songs later, in the middle of a country string, he plays the classic rap song. The Blue Gypsy and I cut the rug UP. It IS the perfect double-two.
I know I should be ashamed. I know this was wrong. But God help the first curator I want something from.....
It must be the mon-ey.
Thursday, April 7, 2022
Ok. They DIDN'T sober up. I was on my local college campus helping out in the Art Club Art Auction. The phone rang and it was Anne Tucker, congratulating me. I'm standing in the hall with nobody to hug.
I'd gotten the email a month or so ago, informing me, but then it started dragging. Like Christmas in the first grade....and your parents keep moving it. We'll do it Thursday. No, Saturday better. Monday for sure. Did we say Monday? Some things came up. How about Wednesday? Oopps. Conflict. Middle of next week suit everyone?
Still. I know about what suffering is and isn't. What to ignore and what to monitor. Quit worrying. You live to serve this ship. Enjoy this perfect life and row well.
Meanwhile...chopping wood and hauling water. Light show across the street subsides as the Sun works North. White trees come and go. Dogwoods spring open. Lots of dancing and film flow by.
Tuesday, March 22, 2022
Catching a shadow in a Jar and Paperwhite boxes.
River House, San Juan River at Comb Ridge.
Sunday, March 13, 2022
Camera at Zero
Shot a sheet. Changed a few things. Shot another. Today I tore it all down and started again. Same photo, mostly...with changes.
I really don't know anything about flowers. They just keep jumping in front of the camera.