#42 – Tuesday, January 3rd
Molly Teardrop, from pup to young cattle dog. She’s a wild, headstrong, heat-seeking fetch machine, climbs like a mountain goat, rails the trail, a dervish in the house and as I’m often reminded when she exhibits less than acceptable behavior . . . it was I who picked her out . . . and in our world, she’s the perfect companion, another of our kind.
A bit of red always finds its way into my canvasses, but almost never as the dominate color. Actually going back and taking a look, there are only three other paintings I can recall, featuring this much red. “Curtain of finite sin . . .” was in the recent show at Perimeter, and completed in late 2011. The second example, a canvas from 2008, “Oh my sweet cantankerous mistress . . . “. And the third “Wound up . . .” from 1998. Now this one. Twenty twelve, a red hot year? I’m thinking I’ll find that out in due time.
Thanks for reading.