At the Bus Stop

Sitting in the passenger seat of our car at the stoplight on the corner of Montrose and Westheimer in Houston, I saw this woman sitting at the bus stop. Her hands were constantly in motion, like she was trying to brush something off. She was keeping some sort of rhythm with her movements that only she could hear or feel.

"Art is beauty in ordinary moments." That's the opening line in my artist statement. This tiny moment, a snapshot in the life of someone I don't know, is just that -- a slice of rawness in an unexpected location that was beautiful to me. That's why I wanted to paint it. 

It's 24" x 30", oil on canvas. 

The Grey Scale

This fella was sleeping near the bottom of some stairs along Buffalo Bayou in the downtown Houston area, though it seems like it's a scene that could have been anywhere. That's the thing with homelessness, or whatever brand of outdoor living this is. I don't know this guy's story -- I don't know anything about him other than how seeing him there, vulnerable and oblivious, my eye was drawn to the composition and color scheme and the poignancy of his aloneness in the vastness of this city. 

This painting is 24" x 30" oil on cotton canvas. I usually paint on linen instead of cotton, so it's always interesting to see how the paint moves on a different surface as it is applied. There was a bit of a learning curve painting on cotton, which hopefully I'll remember as I have several more cotton canvases that someone gave me to use. I've already started the sketch on another cotton canvas so we'll see how the next one goes. :)

Self Portrait - 2024

Lately, instead of standing at the easel, I've been sitting in this green chair to paint. One day recently, while sitting at the easel, I noticed the harmony of the greenish blue shirt I was wearing, the soft blue of the walls, and the light reflecting onto and bouncing around my hair, and I knew that I had to paint what I saw. So, voila.

Self Portrait - 2024, oil on linen, 20" x 16"

And, it just so happens, over the years, when in between projects, or unsure of my place as an artist, or afraid of starting something new, or about to tackle something new, or any or all of it, I have come back, again and again, to painting my self portrait. It's a bravery exercise. It gets me back in the studio, back at the easel, back to mixing paints. It is a great motivator to shake the sticky cobwebs off my fingers and dust out the underutilized corners of my mind. 

The green chair very closely matches the color of spring happening right now outside the studio window. It's a happy thought.