The cool part about Sweden in the summer is that you can paint all day and still have endless hours of daylight in the evening. So the routine lately has been - paint all day, dinner, then an evening swim in the lake. It's been in the 80's since we've been here.
The paintings in progress are some scenes from San Francisco (around Russian Hill) that have been floating around in my head for several years. And I'm reworking that Central Coast Oaks painting on the left.
I'm out of town this summer but if you are passing through the Central Coast (and you should) please stop in and see my latest work in Cambria at The Vault Gallery and at Fiona Bleu in Morro Bay.
Lot's of original oil paintings and tons of prints, too!
That's my little girl, Molly. We're spending the summer in Sweden. My wife, Caroline, is from here and Molly was born here 15 months ago. Thought I'd post something I wrote about Sweden a while back. In it I wrote that Sweden and I "haven't exactly clicked" but I have to say, I'm really getting into this Swedish summer thing!
You can order any or all of my 3 books in my Blurb Bookstore. The following is an excerpt from my first book, B E R K E L A N D: Original Oil Paintings 1997-2008:
I married into Sweden. There's a little bit of Norwegian blood coursing through my veins, but even so, there's no telling if I would have otherwise made it to Scandinavia had I not met Caroline. There are places where you really feel like you are in the thick of things. New York and Rome come to mind. Then there are places where you know you are on the fringe. Sweden sometimes feels like it is halfway to the moon.
It's a weird place. Not what you'd expect, if you do, in fact, expect something. First off, there is no Matterhorn there. That's Switzerland. Whole other country. No, I haven't seen any bikini teams, and, for that matter, haven't seen much of anyone at all. There are almost no people in Sweden and that sparseness is tangible. There are candles and wooden horses and little gnome things everywhere. These people eat more candy and drink more coffee than anyone else in the world. They're a bunch of hot rod driving, RV enthusiasts who listen to home brewed polka-rock based on American standards and then dance around a pole like frogs on the longest day of the year. Their hospitals birth their babies for free (relatively speaking) and when you set off for such disease-riddled destinations as, say, the United States, they'll ask if you've protected yourself with all the right shots.
I'll be honest. Sweden and I haven't exactly clicked, yet. It's funny. The people who look most like me on earth and the meat and potato diet that most resembles that of my childhood still leaves me feeling like something of an interloper best regarded with skepticism. But there are two factors that do redeem Sweden for me. Actually the first one alone would have been enough. Family. Sweden could have been on the moon and the fact that my wife's family lives there would have been all the reason I'd need to spend significant amounts of time there.
But Sweden is not on the moon, which leads to the second factor - that Sweden is actually very beautiful. The harshness of the dark, cold winter is balanced by the chilly brilliance of the afternoon sun perforating the leafless birch woods as it sets into any one of a thousand Swedish lakes. In the summer, the sun never really sets at all. It just glides behind the trees and along the horizon for hours before settling in for a dusklike power nap.
I have no choice. Sweden is part of my life now and I will be going back often. I will learn the language and I will eat fermented herring respectfully. I will dance like a frog and I will watch Pippi Longstocking DVD's with my daughter. And I will earn it all by digesting my Swedish experiences onto canvas, as I've done wherever I've ended up over the years.
The view from near the top of Highway 46 between Cambria and Paso Robles on the California Central Coast. Measures 24x60 in. Available from The Vault Gallery in Cambria, CA.
You can order any or all of my 3 books in my Blurb Bookstore. The following is an excerpt from my first book, Just Another Day:
Caroline and I were married in Jamaica on October 26, 2006. With all of her family being in Sweden, mine being spread out around the states, and most of our common friends being where we met in Italy, it became clear that it would have been logistically and economically impossible to gather together a meaningful group of family and friends for a traditional wedding. So we looked on a globe for a place between Sweden and California where we could meet and get married. Someplace where neither of us had been before. Someplace romantic. Preferably with a beach. And good food. Jamaica!
We’re not really resort types, but we figured that since we had spent years catering to the needs of travelers at the guesthouse in Italy, then spending a week having our own needs catered to was more than fair. The resort was impressive and the service first class. We only got offered drugs twice by the staff, but even those were friendly and surprisingly professional solicitations. The food was of the highest quality and the beach was immaculate every morning after an army of maintenance workers cleared every scrap of garbage or tree part from the entire stretch of sand lining the resort. And thanks to Pastor Lloyd, Cecil the photographer, and Tameka, the wedding coordinator who stood by to towel off my sweaty head between photos, our private wedding ceremony was as special as we had hoped.
What you don’t see on Travelocity, however, is the amount of effort that goes into separating the resort from the rest of Jamaica.
A California Central Coast oak tree with Bishop's Peak in the distance. Measures 24x60in. Please contact me for availability.
This painting of a Morro Bay Eucalyptus grove measures 24x60 in. Please contact me for availability.
The last few days of architecture school back in '96 were just a formality. Our senior projects were finished. Final exams were just paperwork to get through. The stress was over. In a few days, a ceremony would mark the end of our university days. On one of those last days in the lab, we circled are chairs and went around the room - each of us telling the class what our plans were for the real world waiting for us just around the bend. So-and-so had an interview with a firm in San Francisco. Another was going to try her luck in an office down in Santa Monica. One by one, it seemed to me that each student had a socially acceptable blueprint mapped out for the next phase of their life. When it came to be my turn, I said something about traveling in Europe for a while and maybe starting a band.
When I got to Europe, I decided to stay. I took work at Casa Cares, a retreat and group meeting center in the hills above Florence, Italy. The center attracted an eclectic patronage from around the world, opening my eyes to the infinite number of ways one could construct a meaningful life. Somewhere early on in my new adventure I was introduced to the work of Friedensreich Hundertwasser
Continue reading "Influences: Friedensreich Hundertwasser" »
Though the public likes to hold onto myths about an artist's seemingly
magical ability to pluck color and form and composition solely from the
depths of the imagination, painters have continually sought ways to
make the purely technical problems of portraying reality easier to
solve. English artist, David Hockney
It's been a year since Caroline and I started our greatest work-in-progress. Everyday I recognize how lucky I am to be able to work just one room away from where my little girl is playing ... even if it means tiny, greasy finger prints all over my latest work. Maybe it'll add to the value! I'll put more birthday pics on Facebook soon.
You can order any or all of my 3 books in my Blurb Bookstore. The following is an excerpt from my third book, B E R K E L A N D: Original Oil Paintings 1997-2008:
The other day, somebody dropped $45 million on this Henri Matisse
I've never tied my interpretation of success to my economic situation. And that's not some high brow moralizing I'm doing. It's an actual gut feeling. Probably some primal survival mechanism for artists. I was talking to a fellow artist about this just the other day. We've both been penniless at many points in our lives but we've always maintained a steadying sense of accomplishment through what we've achieved through our art. We don't really worry about unemployment. We just wake up and work, whether it bears fruit or not.
It may change in the near future, but at the moment, I don't really notice an economic crisis as it relates to my painting. I've had better times and worse times. Surviving on art is always a struggle, and I'd say that the amount of struggle right now is not abnormal. The way I see it, the internet gives me potential access to 6 billion people. If I can connect with a handful each month, I'll keep my family fed.
So, though the happy days of selling ice to Eskimos and spending the loot on four dollar lattes may be over for now, the painting goes on. What else am I going to do?
A scene from Chinatown in San Francisco, CA. This one measures 36 x 60 in. Contact Dan for price and availability.
This piece was commissioned by a flower company, Oregon Coastal Flowers, based in Tillamook, OR.
