These colourful vintage alarm clocks – I can’t seem to get enough of them. I could paint them over and over. These will be showing at my October/November 2015 exhibition in New York City.
Five, already belongs to a collector, but there are limited edition archival prints available at the George Billis Gallery — click here for details.
Four — a tidy arrangement with an even tempo and rhythm, also available as a print.
Dream Days, a little alarm clock with brass bells sits on a small stack of books, all on blue.
I started painting these clock and book compositions a few years ago. I find the combination to have a calming effect. The shapes are so simple and recognisable. They have an orderliness about them that speaks to me. Read more
Each clock is a little character with its different color, its own style. In groupings they interact with each other. Read more
Typewriters are ambitious.
What I mean is that whenever I set out to paint one, I realize how technically difficult they are to paint and I feel like I’m being ambitious. They are full of these intricate details and repeating shapes, they take full concentration and a great deal of time. Getting those keys right is a slow process.
Then there is the idea of writing, story telling, compiling ideas. Getting it right the first time. Typing your thoughts on a typewriter is all about concentration – just like painting them.
The little green Tom Thumb below is a working children’s typewriter from the 1950s. I love how it contrasts with the classic Corona No.3 above.
Kodak, Bencini, Leica, Yashica. USA, Italy, Germany, Japan.
Learning about these cameras is like a 20th century world history lesson. The makers of these cameras have all been affected by world events, the economy and changing technology. Even though they are obsolete, they still have avid collectors and enthusiasts.
With the Kodaks painting above, I composed an arch with the lenses and flashes, giving the painting an architectural feel.
We have had PHD (Push Here, Dummy) cameras in our pockets for a hundred years, but it’s the ones that look like they were pieced together by watchmakers that are fun to paint.
I like that they were all used to make art, to document holidays, travel, weddings and so many other happy events. What’s strange is that the photos from the cameras are all missing, lost or hidden. It really makes me wonder what will happen to the billions of photos we upload from the cameras on our phones now.
It is important that a painting have more to it than just a cold representation of the subject.
Three Lanterns. The triad, the most noble number according to Pythagoras.
Lanterns are symbols of guidance and enlightenment. They are beacons. Composed here, there is a suggestion of three figures – two of them almost protecting the smaller lantern in the middle. Like parents, guardians or teachers passing on a tradition of knowledge.
Beginning, middle, end.
I have always been aware that the subjects in my paintings have a built-in narrative because of their age and what they were used for. Here the idea of a story arch is built in with the significance of three. It can be any story you can imagine.
Past, present, future.
That story idea continues along with the three tenses, the three states we choose to live in. Dwelling on the past, gleefully enjoying the present, or anxious about the future. I am defiantly at fault for focusing too much on the future.
And then there is the significance of three in religion. You can find it in Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism and even in mythology long before these world religions.
The significance of three rings true in so many different ways, on so many levels.
These elegant and finely detailed antique Kodak cameras are works of art on their own. They have a patina about them. Cameras are now and always have been ubiquitous – but some were made to stand out. These cameras have lost their function, but now exist as sculpture and ideals of craftsmanship.
These two paintings are part of my July 2015 exhibition at the Elliott Fouts Gallery.
These projectors have been missing from my repertoire for too long.
Projector I, above, is the first film projector I painted. Found at Everything Old Canada.
Perfect profile for painting. Everything about them slots in precisely in to what I like in a subject for painting. Obsolete technology with a fantastic design. The reels are dramatic and circular, they compliment the square canvas. I find them eye catching.
Projector II was with me for several years. It was in a case, and I simply forgot about it as I didn’t have any reels to go along with it. It blended in amongst all the other typewriter cases and luggage I have sitting around.
During one of our recent moves, I picked up the case and was confused at why it weighed so much. Opened up the case and was so delighted to find it.
Antique Glass Bottles have this figurative appeal to them. Like a group photo, where everyone kinda looks the same but is different in their own way.
These Two Bottles seem like an odd couple, but they serve the same purpose.
I received this Polaroid SX-70 as a gift — always a great way to come up with an idea for a painting.
Three 8mm Cameras, from when compact holiday cameras were made of cast iron and weighed 12 pounds.