Home News & Blog Portfolio About FAQ Oil & Piston
Aug 07, 2012 5 Comments
"Where the hell have you been? I've been patiently waiting for the latest scrap of over wrought painter's angst. But nothing."

My apologies. I've been a bit busy. Some parenting, procrastinating, tinkering, motorcycle ass hauling, boulder heaving, successes, failures, and the occasional gin and tonic. Possibly some painting too.

12" x 16", Oil on Canvas ~ sold

This is about pushing brushes, but the story of our lives, the story of our daughter, is the gale pushing this little ship. Jane is now two and a half years old. She knows her alphabet, some of the colors and enough numbers to call Bulgaria. She doesn't know and can't understand that in three weeks she will undergo her third open heart surgery. This surgery was loosely scheduled for eighteen months from now, but, as is her nature, Jane isn't following the plan. Her heart is doing well, but the vessels in her lungs aren't. The details of what and why get complicated very quickly and sometimes it seems like no one quite understands. Today, Jane's on supplemental oxygen and with that little extra it's as though we have a new child. Babbling, laughing, exploring, focused, and learning. It's beautiful. And hard.

An artist friend asked the other day, "How can you focus enough to get any painting done? How are you guys keeping it together?" I forget how rattled we are, the anxiety is a constant companion. That simple question provides the exterior view that we avoid. If you don't know anything else, you just keep going. Albeit slowly, clumsily, not realizing that you're scrambling up slip rock and making what feels like little to no progress.

On the slip rock, myths might not be painted but I am painting. In my lofty grand view of an impossible universe, I'm slaying dragons with buddha cheering me on as an amply proportioned brunette. Until I manage to actually stick a sword into a fire breathing serpent and in the midst of Jane's changing plans for us, a new series of paintings will do. Weeds. There's a tangible connection between these tenacious little plants fighting for survival and Jane's story (for this argument we'll ignore that I ripped them from the ground). Perhaps I don't know what a myth is.

A few:

Almost (detail)

8" x 8", Oil on Panel ~ sold

10" x 14", Oil on Canvas

8" x 10", Oil on Canvas

Long Root
8" x 14", Oil on Canvas

The studio is, as said before in years past, where, when I am not with Jane, where I need to be. Painting is how this family and my mind is fed. There are more paintings to share and I will share them. Wish us calm as we weather this storm. Jane's surgery is on the 28th. The time in the hospital is going to be difficult. To put it all in perspective, a little laughter:

Thank you for your patience,


p.s. How could I leave you without a piece of meat?

8" x 10", Oil on Canvas


Thomas Kitts    Aug 07, 2012  at  12:31 pm

Scott: I love the physicality of your work. Great stuff…

Bill    Aug 07, 2012  at  1:03 pm

Beautifully painted, as always, Scott. I especially like “Little”. It’s like a fossil suspended in paint.

We’ll be thinking of you on the 28th.

Mary Lou Zeek    Aug 07, 2012  at  1:35 pm

My thoughts are with you during this tough time.  Jane is adorable, sweet and all that good stuff that comes with little girls.  I love the new paintings!  Keep them coming.  xo

jon ho    Aug 07, 2012  at  2:55 pm

your blog is terrifying and inspiring to me as a father and artist, I felt the need to say that you sir are killing it with your paintings, very nice work.
have a good day!

Scott    Aug 08, 2012  at  7:21 pm

Thanks, folks. I’m excited about what’s on the other side of this tunnel. How do you paint like Soutine and Wyeth at the same time?

Thomas, I might even go paint outside.






Remember my personal information

Notify me of follow-up comments?

Please enter the word you see in the image below:

*Name, email, comment required

<< Back to main