My first love is the small cottage well dressed.

Saint Louis #2 (cemetery) is one of the Earth’s most forceful evocations of spirit habitat.

I spend the summer in France in the countryside of Burgundy. I live in a village of 35 people and probably 300 animals. It’s a beautiful area of forests and fields, rivers, rolling hills and small mountains. As is natural, I paint what’s surrounding me – more and more the landscape.

My art is musical in that there are rhythms and movement. There is movement across a canvas and there is a rhythm to the movement. Give me the action of tumult and asymmetry but I need a backbeat. I want some sex in the heave.

Someone once said that I make “Boy Art.” “You paint women, cars and buildings. That is ‘Boy Art.’” Well, they weren’t right, but they weren’t wrong…

I rise about 4. It’s so quiet…not talking… I read the NY Times for about an hour and I’m off to work. Still dark and I open the doors to my studio. I like to see the sun rise as I paint. I can get my day at the easel largely finished by lunch. It’s a great feeling to have the rest of the day for whatever needs attention.

The river should be more accessible to the citizens of New Orleans.

I’ve been painting landscapes for about a month. The long winter leaves me imagining more temperate times and the full of nature. Oddly I find myself in the city painting landscapes and in the country painting the city.

I have been a meditator for about 30 years. I practice transcendental meditation twice a day for about 25 minutes. It is restful and a great respite from the rush of events.

Sometimes the work flows out effortlessly and at other times it’s a battle. I am at times for days working for a resolution. There’s lots to think about in all this.

Saints Field

Coastal Erosion Sucks