So Lightly Here, egg tempera painting

On this day, forty years ago, I set a ten-year goal for my painting. I was in a room in the house that I had built, standing at my easel.

With nothing but a sketchbook, rickety easel, some cheap canvas boards and a few acrylic paints, I set my mind to see how far I could go in this art business.

And as the poet Robert Frost wrote, “way leads on to way.”

No internet, YouTube or smartphones. We learned from reading books and doing. I had started a sign business and decided that I would not track the time each painting took like I did making a sign.

Instead, I would live to paint, not paint to live. My goal was to see how high a level I could take art, if it was in me, and not how fast I could paint. Which I still practice to this day.

As I write this, I am sitting alone in my studio, gazing at a large oil painting of ibis on a much nicer easel, less than 10 miles from that sparse room, when my head was full of dreams and ambition. A lot has come to pass.

I imagined perhaps I would take my art places, but it is my art that has taken me to places beyond my wildest imaginings.

Many awards and articles and successes later, my art has taken me to a dock and a conversation with the Chief Justice and his wife. To an island and meeting two presidents, to celebrities and collectors who have become cherished friends. Art has given me so many wonderful memories with amazing, talented friends. Art connects our hearts.

But it has come with sacrifice; with struggles and setbacks. It has given me mountaintop happiness and deep valleys of sorrow. Like any worthwhile achievement in life, you must never quit; you must always persevere and overcome. Then you will know.

Now, ever since I was a child, I had the sense that God was guiding me. All my life I have lived on that faith, and tried to walk that path. At times, I have stumbled off into the weeds. Way off!

Over the past decade, I have come to understand that it was not my art guiding me, but God. The gift he gave me to develop, painting, I have used for his glory. From the get-go, my paintings have celebrated the miraculous beauty of His creation. By His grace, I hope to continue.

Though she is not a believer, I am grateful to my mom for planting that seed of wonderment by taking my siblings and me outdoors with her, to the beach—to the Florida sunlight, and for sharing her love of reading with us. These were pathways that showed me God.

Art is about seeing and observing. Mine began in fascination when I wanted to know the precise moment a bird quit being a creature of land and became one of the air.

Forty years later, my fascination continues, and this egg tempera painting, So Lightly Here, has emerged from the easel.

Forty years have flown by. For certain all the birds that I have drawn and painted are long gone.

Like them, we are so lightly here.

Golden Slumber, oil painting

Golden Slumber is an oil painting currently in the American Tonalist Society, Shades of Gray III Exhibition in Sheridan, Wyoming.

The painting is available at the hosting gallery, Ballard’s Fine Art. The show runs September 4 – October 12, 2025.

Empress, Oil on Linen

The Empress is the third white bird in this series. Don’t know where they came from, or when they’ll run their course, but I feel like they are speaking for me. Speaking to us. Speaking for a reason to be revealed in time. All things are. Like flowers that come into our lives and bloom for a season.

For me, they have a transcendent quality.

Art will speak to you if you engage with it. Connecting with the mind and heart that brought it forth completes the circle of creation. A Divine gift. Put down your device and look at the beauty all around you with marvel and gratitude.

Art has the power to pierce our inner being like an arrow. It can please or provoke. It can dredge up childhood memories or remind you of a loved one. Art can heal.

Encountering an original painting in a gallery or museum can make you shriek with joy, cause you to shiver with goosebumps or weep. I know, I have seen it happen. I’ve gotten shivers up my spine unexpectedly coming across an Andrew Wyeth, egg tempera. It just hits you to the core.

You may learn something about the artist, medium, or technique, and  you may learn more about yourself. As the painter, I know this to be true.

My life of painting has been one of self-examination. Exploring life’s deep mysteries, using nature as my ride, feeling the call to be authentic.

Yet, it seems that when I think I know myself, when it matters most, old fears derail me and I retreat to my easel. The amygdala is a real bitch sometimes.

Fear is insidious. It begins with a single little thought. Unexamined, it can couple with your imagine, grow and influence your actions and behavior. One day you may find yourself sitting in the ashes, wondering at what point did it all start to go sideways. Daily vigilance against the old enemy is vital.

You need something stronger than fear in your life to believe in, to trust in that is everlasting. Something that gives you courage, hope and peace of mind.

For those who practice it, this is the Lenten season. I am on a 40-day fast. Forty-six years ago, I made a 180-degree turn in my life and became a new man that became an artist. It’s time to make another turn.

One day at a time. Today at my easel I’ll be painting another white bird, and in my life, trying to bring beauty, light and hope to a troubled world. Countering fear by sowing seeds of beauty and love against ugliness and hate.

What will you do?

Huntress, Oil, 36 x 24 in. SOLD

Huntress and Hunter are the first two paintings in a new series. Snowy is the third.

Hunter, Oil, 36 x 24 in. SOLD

Painting birds larger than life-size would have been a foolish notion in my early bird painting days. A threshold I would not have crossed. Back then, I was interested in anatomical and biological habitat accuracy. Placing birds in their natural environment during the correct season of the year.

In time, my perspective expanded to express universal ideas instead of individual portraits of a species or particular place. Light became the dominant motif. Light falling on birds.

An authentic artist will paint what he or she lives and loves. What you think and read about influences your artistic evolution. Stop doom scrolling. Read a good book, watch an inspiring film, visit museums and art galleries, notice a flower unfolding. If you want to paint beauty, you must fill your mind with beautiful things.

“whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

With age comes clarity and freedom, and we see life from a broader realm of knowledge and experience. Gratitude replaces the things we once took for granted. And if we are blessed with a long life, we will cross many thresholds.

The late poet, John O’Donohue, writes in his book, To Bless the Space Between Us:

“At any time you can ask yourself: at which threshold am I now standing? At this time in my life, what am I leaving? Where am I about to enter?… A threshold is not simply a boundary, but it is a frontier that cannot be crossed without the heart being passionately engaged and woken up…”

Wisdom is discerning when we are at the vital thresholds of our lives. An invitation to a promise. Do we bravely pass through and say yes to trust and faith?