Size: 10"W x 8"H x 1"D
Year Created: 2018
There was a theory put forth, where a researcher tried to categorize what type of artwork, specifically a landscape, people tend to be drawn to - what was their ideal image. The concept was that we as a people, as humans, as drawn to open landscapes, views that touched upon our shared ancestry. The open plains where we lived and hunted all those millenia ago on the African plains. A broad expanse of land, a sole hammock of trees, our view of the Veldt unobstructed by forest or jungle, our prey within our sight.
This painting is from a photograph I took on the St Johns River in Florida, the headwaters of the Florida Everglades. The technique is vaguely impressionistic with an edge towards realism. I try to keep my work loose and free, but the urge to reproduce the image faithfully sometimes takes over. Call it OCD or being too detail-oriented. It's a constant internal battle.
My first love has always been landscapes. My parents took my sister and I to Paris when we were around 14 or 15. Of course the city was amazing, but our one short trip to the Louvre...just blew me away. I say short, because any trip to the Louvre is too short. We spent the entire day there and probably saw a quarter of what they had to offer. That moment when you're standing back from a painting and it looks like you're there. And then you step forward a foot or two and you notice the trees aren't quite trees. And then another step forward and you see the sky is a spray of color, not soft clouds scudding across azure. So you have to go right up to the canvas, nearly touching it with your nose and inspect the brushwork, the bristles of the instrument apparent in the pigment and see the rocks and the grass for what they are - brilliant, almost random flecks of inspiration, mere motes of oils and painstakingly ground minerals, put there by a person, and you think, "I can do that..."