No Idea: 1962
Aug. 29th, 2025 03:51 pm
My 58th acrylic is sorta my 55th because I did the underdrawing for it back in January, then left it untouched til now. An attempt to let Expressionism [and maybe Fauvism] inform my approach a bit more than usual.
( the story behind it )
I was recently talking with Barbara about a local artist [acrylic painter] I have met and conversed with a few times... and how I always find it flattering but odd when I realize that said artist talks with me [and about me] as if I am a peer. Barbara says that I am one and should certainly see myself that way, but I have trouble with this. Then she got talking about whether I realize that I am a good artist, and that my art is good.
Afterward I thought about it for a while, and realized that I do think that my work is generally Good Enough®, but I don't think of it as Good®. Since then, I've been struggling to define for myself just what the difference is, between good enough and good.
Finally I settled on something like this: if I look at a piece of mine, and I don't see things that I wish I had done differently, or parts that aren't quite what I would like.... if the flaws are not glaring, but are acceptable instead, then I can say the work is good.** Then I got thinking about which pieces of mine I can say that about.
I came up with four. Out of sixty years of arting.
Not sure where I'm going with this, I still need to mull over and hash out. Wondering if other people make a similar distinction between good-enough work and good work. I just wanted to get this down while I thought of it.
** and is this how I judge whether other people's work is good? Not sure that I do. Yet more sutff to mull over....
Afterward I thought about it for a while, and realized that I do think that my work is generally Good Enough®, but I don't think of it as Good®. Since then, I've been struggling to define for myself just what the difference is, between good enough and good.
Finally I settled on something like this: if I look at a piece of mine, and I don't see things that I wish I had done differently, or parts that aren't quite what I would like.... if the flaws are not glaring, but are acceptable instead, then I can say the work is good.** Then I got thinking about which pieces of mine I can say that about.
I came up with four. Out of sixty years of arting.
Not sure where I'm going with this, I still need to mull over and hash out. Wondering if other people make a similar distinction between good-enough work and good work. I just wanted to get this down while I thought of it.
** and is this how I judge whether other people's work is good? Not sure that I do. Yet more sutff to mull over....

As a part of training my eye and hand for a new upcoming project, I've been drawing studies of Lee Holley's Ponytail panels from the early 60s. And I find myself learning [yet again] the lesson that comes from pretty much any 20th-century cartoonist: while the drawing may appear and feel pretty simple, it is deceptively simple. There is always a lot more intricate work involved than that. Always an inspiring eye-opener for me.
I am calling this my eleventh gouache painting, even though technically that isn't correct: this was done on a 4-by-6 canvas board and all my other gouaches were on paper, and the paint calls itself acrylic paint rather than gouache. Bear with me while I explain:

This was my first time trying Deco Earth brand “reclaimed acrylic” paint — claims to be more opaque and more matte finish than regular acrylic. The opaque is maybe a bit true, but the matte finish is way true. It's a lot like working with acrylic gouache IMHO — hence my labelling it such. Handles nice and I look forward to working with it again. (Even though the range of pigments available to work with leaves a little to be desired, I think.)

This was my first time trying Deco Earth brand “reclaimed acrylic” paint — claims to be more opaque and more matte finish than regular acrylic. The opaque is maybe a bit true, but the matte finish is way true. It's a lot like working with acrylic gouache IMHO — hence my labelling it such. Handles nice and I look forward to working with it again. (Even though the range of pigments available to work with leaves a little to be desired, I think.)

My 56th acrylic is, once again, a visual that mysteriously popped into my head and stayed there. (As usually happens with any abstract that I feel moved to pursue to completion.) There's something about this colour palette that seems to connect with me, seeing as I used this same one last year. I can see me using these colours to sub for the white/gray/black palette I'm accustomed to working with in my cartooning, and doing value studies that way. (I even have a vague idea for the next one...)
A few times now I've mentioned the graphic novel I'm working on this past year or so. [And, if it gets out of hand, it may get too long for me to get it done while I'm still here.] Anyhoo:
Today I got thinking, "Am I being ridiculous to work on something like this when the world seems to be falling apart around me? I mean, for the first time in my life, I am looking at the very real chance that my country may disappear and be swallowed up by a neighbour... causing untold stress and disruption and chaos. And then, being able to draw a comic will become the last thing on my agenda. Society may disintegrate beneath my feet, and I'm still just plugging away at my comic book like all is well??"
I've thought that a few times lately, but when it happened today, I thought something else: "Yes, there is a chance this could happen. But, if I'm being brutally honest with myself, there's a far better chance that I could have a heart attack or stroke at any moment, and I won't be able to finish my novel then, either. But this has always been true, and I didn't let it stop me from trying. So maybe I similarly shouldn't let the state of the world stop me."
Today I feel like I understand a bit better what the Beats meant in the Fifties when they said, "When The Bomb drops, it will find us painting and writing poems."


My 52nd and 53rd acrylics are, as you can see, both pups. One is a gift, one is for putting up at the cafe and [hopefully] selling. I've already realized that my animal paintings are the closest I get to “crowd-pleasers”. So, when it comes time to make a gift, that's what I fall back on. But I've also already begun to wonder how much these paintings actually qualify as fine art. Like, do they say anything? Do they express anything about me? Maybe they're just an expression of “my love of animals”, and maybe that's enough, I dunno....
On the other hand, I can think of an artist I see on Instagram who only ever paints horses, and she quite cheerfully admits that's all she ever has any intention of painting, because that's what she loves most. And I've never questioned her legitimacy as An Artist®, so why do I need to question my own?
On the third hand, lately I've gotten more of an urge to spend at least some of my easel time working on less accessible pieces — I can feel things in me wanting to get out. I've already resigned myself to those new pieces not being understood or enjoyed, but I still feel like they'll be worth trying anyway.
my musical discovery of the year
Dec. 31st, 2024 05:41 pmIt seems that, every year, of all the music I discover, there is one particular standout artist for me who turns me into a major fan. Most often, it is someone new [to me]... but not always. For example, last year my musical discovery was Richie Kamuca — I was listening to records forty years ago that Kamuca played on, but at that time I wasn't focusing particular attention on his specific contributions to those records. Last year, I was given the chance to listen to him more closely and more widely, and finally became smitten.
But my discovery for 2024 is someone I had never heard until a couple months ago: Cory Weeds. He's an exciting find for me — not only for his own playing, but also for the record label he runs which issues work by many other wonderful artists, lots of whom are also new-to-me. There is such a wealth of good music to be discovered here! You can bet that Cory and other Cellar Music artists will occupy my ears frequently in 2025.
But my discovery for 2024 is someone I had never heard until a couple months ago: Cory Weeds. He's an exciting find for me — not only for his own playing, but also for the record label he runs which issues work by many other wonderful artists, lots of whom are also new-to-me. There is such a wealth of good music to be discovered here! You can bet that Cory and other Cellar Music artists will occupy my ears frequently in 2025.
latest paintings
Dec. 31st, 2024 03:50 pm
My 51st acrylic is a nocturne of the Christmas fair at Hebden Bridge, which we visited in 2018. I got into how the night suggests rather than displays things, and really got into the depths of the lights on the tree. There's no razzle dazzle in this work, but I feel like maybe there's some honesty about a night I remember fondly.

My tenth gouache is a horned owl in the snow. This was my first time using an angle brush — I only recently picked up a few of those, in both bristle and soft synthetic — and I really enjoyed how it handled. I can see myself using them a lot in future. And, once again, the limited palette I have felt my way into for animal paintings came in handy here.
something I am grateful for today
Dec. 18th, 2024 05:46 pmGetting back into The Painting Groove®.
It's been weeks [months?] since I painted, largely due to adverse health circumstances, but also lack of ideas-slash-inspiration. But the deadline of Christmas looming has been making me fret, and I owe some people paintings as gifts, so I finally panicked enough to force myself once more into the breach.
I've noticed that, whenever I'm away from painting for a while, I eventually get to feeling like I have forgotten how. I lose what little confidence I've developed, and start to believe that whatever I produce now won't be any good. [Something similar happens with cartooning, but that feels more like gotten rusty than don't remember how.] But, in the last couple of days, I have finished the gifts that absolutely had to be done, and once I got about a third of the way into each one, I realized that they were turning out Okay Enough®, and I started feeling like I have a clue again.
I realize that the solution is “don't go so long without arting”, but this is me we're talking about here, so....
It's been weeks [months?] since I painted, largely due to adverse health circumstances, but also lack of ideas-slash-inspiration. But the deadline of Christmas looming has been making me fret, and I owe some people paintings as gifts, so I finally panicked enough to force myself once more into the breach.
I've noticed that, whenever I'm away from painting for a while, I eventually get to feeling like I have forgotten how. I lose what little confidence I've developed, and start to believe that whatever I produce now won't be any good. [Something similar happens with cartooning, but that feels more like gotten rusty than don't remember how.] But, in the last couple of days, I have finished the gifts that absolutely had to be done, and once I got about a third of the way into each one, I realized that they were turning out Okay Enough®, and I started feeling like I have a clue again.
I realize that the solution is “don't go so long without arting”, but this is me we're talking about here, so....
more food for thought
Dec. 2nd, 2024 01:44 pmLately I've been seeing a lot of old indie comic books [someone on IG is selling off a big collection, looks like], and it shames me to admit this but... some of these books get me feeling kinda judgy.
Like, they look poorly done, and the subject matter doesn't interest me in the least, and some of it looks tasteless or pointless or dumb, and I feel like You really thought it was worth your time and effort making this?
But today I suddenly thought: there may well be lots of people who think those same things when they look at my comics. And the guys who make those books may well believe in what they do as much as I believe in what I do. So we all gotta do our thing and be ourselves, right? Nothing wrong with that.
food for thought
Dec. 1st, 2024 06:47 pmI saw this quote on Mastodon a couple weeks ago that keeps coming back to me:
Art is not a sport. The point is not to be impressive at something difficult. It's expression, it's a way to focus on yourself, it's a way to get feelings out, it's a way to get ideas across. There is no cheating.
My ninth gouache is a chipmunk, done on watercolour paper 8 x 10. Once again, the painting was a gift for a friend [who loves chipmunks] so I had to wait til they received it before sharing it here.
I wanted the foliage to be cool as a contrast to the warmth of the chipmunk's coat, but I'm not sure I pulled that off all that well. Keep trying.

My 48th acrylic painting is supposed to be a corgi. This one was also a gift, so once again I found myself fussing with it a bit more than the loose, expressionist-slash-fauvist look I hope to cultivate someday. And again, I find myself doing a lot of drybrush work when painting an animal, even though I can't remember drybrush ever being discussed as a typical acrylic technique. For me, it just feels like the right thing to do here.
quiet observation
Aug. 16th, 2024 09:07 amOver the past five years, I have read a lot of books, articles, posts, etc. about "how to paint". Most of them offer advice along the lines of things you should or shouldn't do. Rules, or at least rules of thumb.
In that same period, I have seen each one of those rules broken [successfully] by at least one artist producing a good piece in their own lawless fashion. Sometimes that artist has even been me!
In that same period, I have seen each one of those rules broken [successfully] by at least one artist producing a good piece in their own lawless fashion. Sometimes that artist has even been me!
stretching
Jul. 18th, 2024 07:34 pmFor the last couple days, I've been doing pencil doodles which are studies of faces and figures from Ponytail, an early-60s comic strip panel by Lee Holley.


This year I've also been doing a lot of mental work and planning for a new graphic project, and I find a lot of inspiration in Holley's approach, as if it could lead me into something new. Drawing these makes me feel like I'm Onto Something® — it's kinda exciting.


This year I've also been doing a lot of mental work and planning for a new graphic project, and I find a lot of inspiration in Holley's approach, as if it could lead me into something new. Drawing these makes me feel like I'm Onto Something® — it's kinda exciting.