A seemingly effortless movement.

I remember watching this woman’s languid stroke in the Mediterranean waters below me in Polignano a Mare. Capturing her “glide” became my focus as I  began sketching and putting paint on this latest canvas. Fortunately, patience became my companion as “she” took form. This subject was not to be rushed.

Her “Glide” speaks to me on a visceral, not mental, level.

I’m learning, more and more, to trust the urgings of the feelings that come from my heart when deciding what to paint. There are many subjects I could convince myself to be worthy, but often I realize some of those are my analytical brain trying to be in charge. Such subjects end up being dominated by a technical focus without real heart. I’ve lived long enough and explored so much as an artist that I can only paint what my soul, not my head, tells me to.

Getting lost can lead to being found.

You might think this to be a bizarre, crazy-artist statement. But it might tell you a bit about my process. When I begin to paint, I am keenly aware of my subject. Then, the colors, patterns, and shapes take over and I enter a pronounced, non-verbal, right-brain world. This place feels like home, a sanctuary of creativity and expression. I love it when words and analysis recede, and I feel like I am indeed swimming, gliding in the truest part of myself. In fact, sometimes it takes me a good hour or so after stepping away from the canvas to find my ability to speak using words again.

This water series continues to expand.

Even though the paint is still drying on “Glide,” two new canvases are underway. And more subjects are demanding to be expressed. In the meantime, I hope you’ll swim around in my other water series paintings.