A project so big that my life will forever be that which comes after, and now, that what has come before. Do I define my art or does my art define me? Do I get to designate that what and who I love, or have the energetic, magnetic, attractive forces within this place of my birth and of my life, sculpted me to be the maker of this and the next Field Atlases to come? Am I alone in the endeavor or do I dare think I may be a momentary pulse in a greater becoming? (obi)

Spring in New Orleans, part 1

The music, the decay, the history, the food – the throngs of drunkards – all of it coagulates into the swampy vibe that is New Orleans. Click on above pictures to enlarge. Restaurants: Domenica and Three Muses. The streets tells the musicians their music, so I have been told.

Walton Ford, Pancha Tantra

A good art book is often, to a painter, as good as an art school education. I was gifted a copy of Walton Ford’s mammoth book of paintings, Pancha Tantra, a couple of years back and I refer to it every couple of weeks. My own paintings are nothing like […]

Noah Purifoy, a monument of desolation

<“Earthpiece”> A sprawling outdoor art museum exists just north of Joshua Tree, California. Seven acres of arranged junk, all locally salvaged – a tortured playground, a scar and a monument. <“The Gallery”> The work of artist Noah Purifoy, who is clearly a formally trained genius, (one of the masterminds behind […]

Cowboy and the Japanese Street

“You wanna learn how to draw awesome people in awesome clothes?” The big voice in the sky asked me last week. “Well, then study Frederic Remington and contemporary Japanese street-fashion…at the same time.” I acquiesced immediately by serendipitously finding a copy the 1973, faux-leather bound Time Life Books “Cowboys” and Chronicle […]