There is a samovar in one of my paintings. To many people it is simply a beautiful object, warm metal, good light, an interesting shape. To me it is a room full of voices, a table that no longer exists, and a smell I could describe with my eyes closed. That is the strange power […]
Some mornings the light comes into my Texas studio at an angle that stops me completely. It catches the edge of a jar of water, turns it gold for about ninety seconds, and then moves on. Nobody scheduled it. Nobody would have missed it if I had been looking at my phone. That small, unrepeatable […]
There is a particular kind of quiet that settles over a studio when a painting is finished. The brushes are soaking, the light has moved across the floor, and the work is done. For many years, that quiet was the loneliest moment of my week. I would stand in front of a canvas I had […]
