Dear Artist, Yesterday, Susan Winslow of Dana Point, California wrote, “Last weekend I took a two-day workshop from the excellent plein air painter Frank Eber. Now a few of us are going to meet tomorrow to paint. We have the…
Dear Artist, Recently, Donna Lafferty of Austin, Texas wrote, “Could you talk some more about the use of Magic Hour light? What happens to the spectrum at this time?” Energetic yet casual composition dancing with light and action. Thanks, Donna.…
Dear Artist, Readers might recall that my daughter Sara and I conduct a couple of painting workshops each summer — one at the Cortes Island retreat called Hollyhock, the other heli-painting in the Bugaboo mountains. Last summer at Hollyhock we…
Dear Artist, Intuition is generally defined as the ability to acquire knowledge or perform tasks without the benefit of reason. On the other hand, bright minds have had a hard time determining just what intuition is. The Swiss psychotherapist and…
Dear Artist, In good times and bad it looks like 10% of the galleries do 90% of the business. Similarly, 10% of the artists sell 90% of the art. With the number of folks taking up painting these days and…
Dear Artist, In the National Art Museum in Beijing, the walls are loaded with smiles. Mao is smiling. The threadbare peasants are smiling. The farm-girls are smiling. The new president Xi Jinping, just chosen on March 14, 2013, is smiling. A…
Dear Artist, A few years ago, our city fathers decided to use a simplified reproduction of one of my paintings as a decorative banner to hang from high lampposts around the city. Someone thought it might be a good idea…
Dear Artist, I’m laptopping you from a persimmon grove in a corner of an extensive archaeological site known as “The Terracotta Warriors.” Thousands of (mostly Chinese) tourists are grabbing souvenirs and thronging into an arena-sized building known as Pit No.…
Dear Artist, When a painter paints a rugged stone with its edges not touching the frame, the stone is saying, “I am stone — a monument — see me and ponder my presence.” When a painter paints a sprig of…