Category Archives: art camp

Stretchinit a little bit more


A taste of summer




some random shots around the studio,







works in progress


and some fin-ished stuff = 4×6, 4×4, 4×6, and the last one is a little guy








thanks for watching !


Bin over a year since a revisited this baby. I prolly oughta shoulda ketchup

Well we can start here
go on ~ click it ~ ya know ya wanna !

and then add a bit of this

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followed by a whole bunch of this

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and a dash of this

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and a whole pant load of this

2016-04-19 11.53.04

and I’ll think you see what I mean ~ and if you’re still on the slay ride then you can crank a little bit on this

Home Run Milton ! !

This is pretty cool ~ I put this painting of Milton’s out on the sidewalk to dry and a passerby bought it.
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and here’s some stuff from the ranch sculpture garden over the weekend

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2014-06-21 16.00.10

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2014-06-21 18.44.54

2014-06-21 17.37.38

2014-06-21 16.41.00

2014-06-21 17.36.12

2014-06-21 18.13.00

2014-06-21 18.02.52

gettin it gowin @ The Victory Center

Punching a time clock for the first time in over 30 years . .


. . . but it aint so bad when ya get greeted with stuff like this in the morning


just wanted to get a quick sample out since it’s been over a month since last time


there’s lots more where this came from ~ coming soon

playing chicken with myself


I didn’t mean that to sound as provocative as it does. But what the hell it kinda says what it means ~ working the high wire without a net – tight margins – no wiggle room . . . you get the idea.


The ‘real’ chickens are now tucked in my cousins freezer in Idaho while I made my fourth trip across the Great Basin in three months. All that open space time does something to your brain ~ or at least it did sum thin to mine.


As part of an expansive experience it plays in my imagination as an equal to my time at Art Camp


These experiences stand in sharp contrast to the heart wrenching time back east with the family. Perhaps itz a hangover from all the buddha stuff but I find it more painful now to watch loved ones suffer than to bear my own.


So now back in CA I find myself attempting to makes cents out of it all since I am kindov addicted to that sort of thing. Seems like there should be sum profit from all that pain. Maybe ?  Time space will tell . . .


For now I’ve adopted the chorus from Leonard Cohen’s Anthem as my mantra:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in