Through the Window

Churches are dying. Small ones are losing members to larger ones. Larger ones are losing members to mega-ones. Mega-ones are becoming TV-mega-ones where they measure their success on how many tune into their broadcasts or stream their events online. If you aren't increasing your social media "likes", your church is not growing and the pressure is on to get more numbers. After all, its a competitive world out there and no more evident in filling up the pews on Sunday.

This little church is over 100 years old and served a small community for many years. But it has fallen into disrepair. The grass around it is mowed each summer, but the paint is peeling and the winter winds have taken their toll on its whitewashed exterior. Regular services are no longer held there so it is used occasionally for a gathering or special event when someone wants a picturesque background. As I pass by, I occasionally see a photographer trying to capture the well-worn visage like they would a quaint old homestead.

Many times I paint because a scene or composition captures my attention and I want to go back and see it again.

Many times I paint because a scene or composition captures my attention and I want to go back and see it again. This little church has classic vaulted windows with stained glass that you don't see on many churches today. The clapboard siding and small steeple with a bell tower define this rustic church design from a century ago and I can understand how it seems to define for many people, the America of their childhood. I didn't want to include too much detail in my painting because I wanted the focus to be on that window and its distinctive shape.

The extreme angle of the light on that side of the building was to my advantage as the shadows helped to distinguish the shapes against an otherwise nondescript white. But I have come to appreciate even the simple walls of a building when they speak of the character of those who built them long ago, or those who depended on them for many years. Texture is also important to me and many times I will see a composition merely out of the texture of a surface.

There are a lot of little churches like this in the mountain communities around me and I will venture out to find and paint them in ways that bring their uniqueness to light. While the Bible tells us that God does not dwell in buildings made by human hands, churches like this one are a testimony to the reverence once offered to Him and the sense of community that they provided to a rural area in the mountains.

Future Looks

Raising sons is not done by formula. Any one who has had more than one can tell you that they're not all the same. Growing up in a family of four sons, then having four of my own gives me more than enough experience to affirm this truth. But as a parent, you want them to launch out with a solid foundation but with enough individualism to set their own course, find a purpose for their life, and become that kind of person that this world needs.

Despite the rather gloomy outlook for the future presented these days in the media, I believe there is always a life of adventure and fulfillment possible for a young person who knows where they came from and where they are going. Jordan was my model for this painting and was ready to launch out on his own, with a strong foundation behind and a limitless horizon before him. This tree is a beautiful fixture over looking the Blue Ridge Mountains which formed a fitting backdrop with a setting sun providing the lighting.

...the initial poses, often at the direction of the artist, are stiff or uncomfortable and it takes a while for the model to relax.

I used a 24 x 36 inch piece of gessoed masonite panel and picked a pose which expresses confidence, vision, strength, and youthful vigor. The simple composition does not allow the viewer to get caught up in the details, but focus on the subject and look at him while not having to feel uncomfortable with his gaze, since it is pointed off canvas. As Jordan relaxed and determined his posture, I snapped reference images that later gave me great choices for a final. This seems to be an important part of posing a model because the initial poses, often at the direction of the artist, are stiff or uncomfortable and it takes a while for the model to relax. Once they have relaxed though, the artist should be alert for that opportunity to capture the gesture or body position that speaks to the model's character and personality.

I think this painting is successful because it communicates. I also think the viewer can watch the subject, the model, and understand what he might be feeling and empathize with him. Isn't that what we, as artists aim for? We want our viewers to be drawn into the painting in a personal way.

Deer Crossing

Driving home down our two lane highway takes you past many farms, pastures, open fields and beautiful mountain views. To be interrupted by the occasional appearance of a deer is not uncommon but seeing a fawn alone is quite rare. Sure, you have to be careful at night when you see one because it is very likely that there are more nearby just about to cross the road. In fact, a fawn is usually accompanied by a doe and a second young one but this time I saw this little one by itself grazing.

Many of the old fences lining the road are no longer fulfilling their intended purpose. They have long sense fallen into disrepair and don't keep the once grazing cattle contained so they stand as markers to a past landscape of serenity and rural order. The deer are unhindered by fencing anyway. Watching them leap a tall obstacle like fence gives you a wonderful feeling like watching a high jumper in the Olympics conquer a height you thought nearly impossible.

I feel sorry for those living in cities where your daily commute or travels only takes you past towering buildings and people who don't want to make eye contact with you. As bad is the drive through asphalt suburbia where all is groomed to perfection by laborers you rarely see. The connection to the earth is lost and you don't even know you are missing it.

I am thankful for the two laned blacktop that takes me home from town and the people who pass you with a wave, even if they don't recognize your face. I am thankful for the relationships I have with the people who still work the earth for a living and are eager to share or sell to you from their harvest. These are the fields where I see the deer as I pass and watch them grazing peacefully near the clear rushing streams. This is the way God intended it.