Upcoming Exhibit for Gregg Fretheim featuring Tom Laukkanen

A local newspaper feature about the exhibit:

http://current.mnsun.com/2013/03/sharing-experiences-in-an-unconventional-way/

All Good Things

All good things must come to and end and this blog is one of them.

History really doesn't define artists who are moving through different 

environments, but there's quite a history of them doing so. George 

Catlin went with missionaries into the western U.S. to paint the 

American Indian; military's of the world brought along painters into 

war zones and still continue to; Impressionists moved around Europe; 

Paul Gauguin traveled by boat to the Marquesas Island; and today's 

travel painters can take a trip to so many destinations in such a short 

time by plane, train, car, boat, or bike for transportation.

I intended this blog to help define what it is to be a modern-day travel 

painter working with a rich history. It been fun reading about everyone 

and the different ways in which we work. Travel Painting is not easy 

nor is it for the weak of heart. There can be a lot of fear to overcome 

long before we get to wherever we are going. What a treat it's been to 

experience all these cultures at a time of so much change. Remember 

the journey is the destination.                                           

                                      To all of you, Gregg Fretheim 

Oleg Tantsura and what's upcoming

Gregg recently came across some really great work by the Russian painter Oleg Tantsura. Follow the link to his work by clicking on his name in the box in the right-hand margin.

We're also going to have a small question and answer with Gregg about some of his past travels to Costa Rica posted in the coming month.

More from the Southern Pole

Gregg just found these really great paintings and sketches. It's unusual to find so many pieces of work together on the internet. The following link details the naval expedition in 1955-56 and its two painters, Standish Backus (1910-1989) and Robert Charles Haun (1903-1975), who served as visual chroniclers. Much of the oil work was finished after the trip from sketches and photographs because of the extreme conditions. 

http://www.history.navy.mil/ac/exploration/deepfreeze/deepfreeze1.html

Anybody else who finds any other collections you find interesting let us know and we'll share them.

Watercolor at the South Pole

Here at the blog, we would like to highlight a past artist who pushed the boundary of where art can be taken. Arthur Beaumont (http://www.navyart.com/) had a distinguished career, and his masterwork of the first watercolor painting of the South Pole in open air (http://www.navyart.com/bidpages/southpole.htm), using torpedo alcohol nonetheless, exemplifies the remarkable splendor achievable even in the most adverse conditions.

A favorite place and image

This chiaroscuro (or clair-obscur) drawing in brush and ink of Marie-Eve and Camille sketching on the edge of a railway embankment in rural Quebec is a favorite because it reminds me of the social aspect of painting outdoors. The two young friends, who were students in a course I was giving there, often sat together, chatting away about other things while they drew and painted. You can imagine them picnicking together, taking their sketchbooks and paints along with a basket with wine and lunch and a blanket out to a favorite spot.

Contributed by Michael Kluckner
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I had just taken a new job and moved to Germany. I was looking over a map, and orienting myself to the area around my new apartment in the small town of Hochspeyer. Then there it was, a scant six kilometers from my apartment; the town of Frankenstein. I thought to myself, no, it couldn’t be. Could it? A few days later I had some extra time so I drove to Frankenstein. The weather was sunny and Frankenstein, though very small, was charming. There was a Gasthaus(inn/restaurant) at the edge of town, with patrons enjoying the sunshine at outdoor tables. It took me all of two minutes to drive the entire length of Frankenstein. As I turned around and began to drive back, I noticed a churchspire nestled against a hill off to the left of the road. I pulled over to take a picture. Then I saw the castle, a menacing looking one at that, crumbling, perched on the hill overlooking the town. Unbelievable.

I did not have any more time that day, but after researching the castle I worked up the courage and made the climb up the hill. The weather was nice and the trail was wide. The watercolor drawing is a view from the end of the trail as it comes upon the castle ruins. My trip to the castle (at www.michaels-travels.com) turned out to be quite enjoyable and I plan to return, but not in the dark of night.

Contributed by Michael Liebhaber

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This picture was taken in the middle of the salt flats, Salar de Uyumi, in Bolivia where even the hotel is made out of salt. This was one of those times I got to a destination to paint with my travel companion Nilton La Rosa without knowing how we were going to get back. About a week went by before we finally found a ride back to civilization. By then we were glad to be getting off the salt. It was hard on the skin and lips.

Contributed by Gregg Fretheim

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"Sketches from the front: a WWII veteran's hand-drawn memoir"

Here's an article and accompanying video from BBC News about Joseph Farris and his just-released wartime sketches.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-15560482

For further information about Mr. Farris his website is:

http://www.josephfarris.com/Home.html

Essay: "Why We Travel" by Pico Iyer

Here's a link to an essay by the much traveled Pico Iyer, well known for his essay, "The Nowhere Man" (if anyone has a link to this article in its entirety let me know).

http://www.salon.com/travel/feature/2000/03/18/why

Is this indeed the heart of the impulse to travel, to be in search, as Iyer states, "of something...(even) if it's one that you can never quite find?" Meanwhile the "something" gives way to something else, as the essay goes on to say, in a search "undimmed by familiarity" where we are "ready to be transformed." I'm curious if others think this a fundamental aspect of their travels abroad, and indeed travels not abroad as well, as the article touches upon.

A Question and Answer with Gregg Fretheim

The following is an interview with Gregg Fretheim about his most recent trip to Botswana in January and February of 2011. This was Gregg's second trip to the region.


Could you explain how this trip to Africa came about, and what your mindset was before you left? You previously mentioned you were looking for an adventure. Could you touch on that and explain what you meant?

My guide Poul Neilsen

This African trip began the year before when I meat Poul Neilsen. He is a safari and adventure tour guide operating his business from the backpackers where I stayed then. Poul lives in Johannesburg, South Africa and grew up in Makuse, homeland of the Zulus. Growing up in an environment with many animal reserves and Kruger Park, along with his father’s rhino ranch, he’s an expert identifying local wildlife. He also introduced me to one of the only girls in his life, “Sandy,” because she would have to come along. She was a beauty, all four to six thousand pounds of her, a white Land Rover.

Adventure has spontaneity to it, it’s really a form of testing yourself. It reveals itself in front of you so there’s no idea what’s going to happen from day to day – sleeping out with the animals is sleeping with one eye open. You don’t know what’s going to come in. There isn’t the protection of a wire fence or anything like that.

Do you feel this mindset, taking it as an adventure, affected any of your work?

From my previous trip – being brought to a box to paint where the animals came by a waterhole - this was very, very different. I’ve never painted atop a vehicle before or in an environment where Poul would say, “If you see something slowly wagging, don’t run. It’s a cat.” I was very aware where I was, what the surroundings were when beginning to paint, and getting absorbed into my work fast. When painting in the brush you have to be very aware what’s going on around because you can’t necessarily see animals coming up. Sandy is close by. She’s the house. It seemed it worked for me. I finished 10 paintings and three or four worked out.

What was your first destination outside of Johannesburg?

We headed north to a reserve called Mararele. There we rented a nice hut with a lake view and a mountain behind it. That evening a white rhino, some giraffes, and many birds came down to have a drink. A Dutch couple came over after dinner and asked Poul if he could help with a little gray snake in their hut. Poul obliged and went over to help the couple while I finished the dishes. It did not take Poul long to learn it was not a little gray snake but a Mozambique spitting cobra. He removed the snake by the time I finished with the dishes. The couple rewarded Poul with a fine box of cigars. The next day we spent driving up the mountain, stopping to view the baboons and klipspringers, and had a lunch while the cape vultures flew above us. This was a slow acclamation to the sun and heat as we headed towards Botswana and the Kalahari.

Would you try to paint early in the morning or in the evening when it was cooler?

It wouldn’t matter because if I saw it, I wanted to paint it, but heat is a major problem. It’s 120 F and there isn’t much shade and really no trees. You’re out in the open. I just put a hat on and go, and if it becomes overwhelming, I just break down and leave. It depends on speed - how fast I can paint it. I can usually do it within my physical comfort zone.

How long a time is that? Did you approach it?

I went as long as I possibly could, just pushed it. When going into extreme environments, whether hot or cold, I prepare psychologically beforehand for the problems I have to face. It’s not a pleasure to deal with this. But I know this before I go and block much of the discomfort out. The work comes because these environments are absolutely of profound beauty and many people don’t want to take it on. It’s part of nature, part of the experience, and I want to get it. I guess I condition myself for it.

Can you describe some of your time, some of your highlights, spent in the Kalahari?

When we arrived at the town of Molipolore late in the evening, it had rained days before, and the road was flooded with large pools of water up to Sandy’s doors. A check in is required to notify the reserve where you are going for your own protection. There are more lions concentrated in Molipolore than any other place in the Kalahari, and the heat is almost off the charts - 120 F/ 50 C. We camped for several days and returned to tell them we were going to the central area. The head warden said we had moved one night without telling him and fined us $50. The animals were spread out because of the rain, and the landscape was very lush. Tracking lions along the road while heading toward giraffes and springbok was a lot of fun.

Bushmen and Poul tracking
lions

One day while driving, we came across a village of Bushmen. Poul said the Bushmen typically hide since they do not want to be seen. As we approached the village, a woman came running towards us waving her hands calling for help. Three lions had killed two donkeys and hurt a dog in the village. The male Bushmen jumped in the back with their spears, and one had his head out the window tracking as we drove along. The lions must have heard Sandy and run away. We burned what was left of one donkey with a bottle of my turpentine, and dragged the other carcass about a half mile away. When lions become this bold, I was told you must let them know they are not wanted. The bushman were very happy for the help and gave me permission to paint their village.

Did you find your first trip to Africa help you in anyway with this trip?

No. Other than just being excited to go with a vehicle, stop, get out, set up a tent, with no safety of a compound. That was very different. It’s one step closer to being within the flow of things. Whereas before I lived in a compound, driven to a small box, painted from the box, picked up and driven back, and was advised not to walk around because of the animals. Here, Sandy was the compound and being able to go say right or left or straight was new to me, and I had to be ready for everything as it came.

What is the furthest you would distance yourself from Sandy?

Never far, no more than 40 or 50 yards. I’m not a fast runner, so in a 100 yard dash anyone of these animals could beat me to Sandy. Poul was keeping an eye out as well, while setting up a meal or something. It’s something he’s always aware of, if he brings people into the Kalahari, he needs to be very aware of what’s going on around. Of course, people with him have to be very aware as well.

Poul and Sandy at camp

You said you painted atop the Land Rover, what was the reason for that?

We were on a reserve by water on the pan, and a white rhino and her baby were walking alongside us at a distance, and just for safety reasons I decided to paint on top. If there were elephants there, well an elephant can cause problems.

A bull elephant studying us

That worked?

Yeah, I was sitting on the tire. It was fantastic. The sun was setting and animals were all around. It was a new experience. It was new to me. There was a feeling of security on top of the vehicle knowing all these animals are around. That worked out really well.

Where did you go next after leaving the Bushmen’s village?

We headed toward Kharma Reserve and beautiful Lake Xou where all the mosquitoes in Africa begin their lives. We spent most of our time meandering around the small town of Gweta close to the Makagadicadi Pans. One day we decided to visit the elephant graveyard. The roads were full of water because of the rain. Poul picked a road he thought was safe but soon water up to the doors surrounded us in a miles width in each direction. A single foot off the road, and the land rover would sink treacherously. We came to a ‘V’ in the road and made a choice. It was not the right one, and sank all the way down to Sandy’s diffs in mud. After two hours of digging, some local guys came by and wanted to help. About three hours later with their help, Poul pulled Sandy out backwards only to drive her too far to the left and she sank to one side. Poul got out, yelled something to the gods( I don’t remember what he said), got back in, and Sandy came flying out as if she had never been stuck. Not being able to turn around we headed down the road and spent the night. In the morning, a girl came by and said she lived in the next village just down the road. She did not know a way out to a main road other than the way we had come. Not long after someone else came and said he could show us the way out. We made it to a main road and again were on our way.

Digging out with local help

We returned to Gweta and drove to Chapman’s baobab tree where Doc Livingstone’s name is carved on it. They used this very old 4000-year-old tree to navigate the pans (salt flats). On the way to the pans, we found one of the world’s largest migrations, the zebra. We setup camp for a few days around the migration, took night drives, and with thousands of zebras come thousands of flies. At the lodge, they warned us about driving on the pans. “You have to follow the road. If you drive off the vehicle will break through and sink. It’s been raining a lot so don’t go out there!” One thing lead to another, and Sandy found herself about one hundred yards out in the Makayadicadi Pans. They didn’t look like salt flats, because of the grass from the rain. We could only follow the road, drive at a good pace, and try not to stop. We made it all the way across and back, I guess we were lucky. Camping by the pans was stunning and we always slept with one eye open. Camping no more than 50 feet off the road next to the forest at nine at night is very unpredictable and that’s when things happen.

Did anything happen in your trip in that regard?

One evening we both went to our tents, and at about two in the morning I heard two very close, very loud cat-cries, and a kind of a purring, low rumbling sound. That was fantastic. I didn’t actually see the leopard, but that was my experience with her.

Another night a man walked up to our camp with a rifle in his hands looking for his cattle while we were close to the elephant graveyard. He told us he had shot a spotted hyena that night and before he left told us to enjoy ourselves and went on with his business. After dinner while heading to the tents, Poul said, “Take this machete. I’ll use this shovel. If the hyenas come in they will push their heads against the tent then let them have it with the flat end of the machete” (this was one of those times I thought, “What the hell did I get myself into!”). That night the hyenas came very close to the tent and let us know with that all-too-eerie sound: weeett weeett.

So it was a true adventure for you?

When we made it back to Johannesburg, Sandy had been on empty for at least fifty miles (this is a Land Rover thing). We had traveled 2850 km., 1724 km. off road. Sleeping in a tent for 30 days, wearing underwear for five to seven days at a time, and struggling to complete ten sketches in the sun and heat with three or four that worked made for a great adventure! A big thanks to Poul and Sandy. Priceless.

Sunset in the Kalahari

Travel Painting in Quebec, Canada

There are a lot of art courses available, some pertaining to travel-painting, but this one is more of an adventure than most. Michael Kluckner will be conducting a week-long course in June in Percé, on the Gaspé peninsula in eastern Quebec, Canada, as part of the University of Laval's summer school of the arts. The course is conducted in the former studio of a New York painter named Frederick James, who built it in the 1880s as a summer retreat, and students find accommodation in historic cottages nearby and work out of doors for much of the week in the incredibly picturesque village and on nearby Ile Bonaventure, a national park. The course will be conducted in French (but with a lot of translation available if necessary). Link to details about the course through Michael Kluckner's website, www.michaelkluckner.com, and contact him directly if you have questions before registering.

Upcoming Posts

Here at the Travel Painting Blog we're looking forward to two upcoming posts in the near future. The first will deal with the challenges of painting outside with oil on canvas in an extreme environment, namely, a Minnesota winter. Tom Laukkenan will talk about how he overcomes difficult conditions painting in snow with freezing temperatures along a creek near his hometown of St. Paul.

The second post will follow Gregg Fretheim's most recent trip through opposite environmental extremes, painting with oil on canvas in The Kalahari Desert in Botswana. Gregg recently returned from a month long safari there and will share the obstacles painting in an environment where the temperature reaches 120 °F (nearly 49 °C).

A Question and Answer with Michael Liebhaber

1) Michael, you have a diverse background in art, including sculpture and painting. What made you decide to start travel painting and when?

Thanks, Tom. As you say, I have made many different kinds of art. I think the variety has been good for me. It has lead me to a deeper appreciation for all forms of art making and an understanding of an artist’s process as she or he made a piece. As for travel painting, I was forced into it by my circumstances. I grew up with western landscapes all around me and have done some plein air oil painting, but working with Celebrity Cruises is what pushed me 100 percent into watercolor travel painting. I have worked for Celebrity since mid 2007. As a crew member aboard a ship, I traveled to many places. Ship fire regulations prohibited me from using oil paints and solvents, so I took my trusty watercolor kit. It never let me down. Most of my paintings were done in ports during the brief times I was able to get off the ship.

2) I notice that you tend to work small, the focus lending it self towards convenience and capturing your experience quickly. What, for you, are the benefits of working in this manner?

I think there are two benefits from working small, one practical and the other artistic. I prefer to work large, but my circumstances made it impractical. It was much simpler to have an easily portable kit that did not weigh me down if I wanted to take a long walk in a port, yet was able to provide me the capability to sketch and paint whenever I wanted. My motto soon became: compact is convenient, convenience is good. Everything fit into one or two pockets in my cargo pants. The artistic benefit was that the small format freed my mind from the investment that I had in large-scale works. As a result, I painted often and fearlessly, which lead me to a consistent style and better painting (in my ever so humble opinion).

3) On your web page, www.michaels-travels.com, you have travel paintings from all over the world. Is there a specific trip or trips that stands out more than the others?

Every place I visited afforded me the opportunity to draw, and each has a story, whether I painted there or not. Most places are memorable because of the people I met or the friends I was with, but there are places that I appreciated solely as an artist. A very incomplete list of some of those places are Tallin, Estonia (my first sketch in my travels overseas); Arles, France (I drew the bridge that Van Gogh painted & stood where he would have stood to paint Café Terrace at Night, both awesome experiences); Saint Petersburg, Russia (with images of my pencil falling into a canal & the best vodka in the world), intricate, beautiful mosaics in the ruin of a Roman house in Southwestern Cyprus; the picturesque towns of Villefranche, Alesund, and Amsterdam; enigmatic Istanbul, where the cityscapes and markets are a feast for the senses; and finally, everywhere and everything in Florence.

Sailing Past Cape Decision Alaska

4) Tell us where you’re from and do you travel and paint locally?

I live in Scottsdale, Arizona, USA. I was born in Wisconsin, but my family moved west when I was little. I grew up in Tucson, which is my adopted hometown. Since then, I have lived in nine states and traveled to half the planet. I do not cruise on a regular basis now, so I travel around Arizona to paint. I also travel internationally when I am able.

5) If so, what are the major differences? Do you work in different mediums? Does your kit vary depending on where you're going?

I prefer oils, but with today’s travel hassles watercolors (or gouache) seem to make the most sense. I use an old folding watercolor kit with 10 dry colors. I take it everywhere, as I can easily mix a wide range of colors from a small set. Another benefit is that dry colors, as opposed to tubes, go through airport security around the world. Other things in my “kit” are a good sized brush, two pencils, a sharpener, and eraser, two pens, a small plastic container (for water), and a 5x7 inch watercolor pad. You can see my whole kit on my website. The only change I make is when I carry my backpack. Then I’ll put in an 8x10 inch watercolor block and carry a bottle of water. I only carry water if it’s a warm day or if I know I won’t be around a source of water. I’ve never failed to have a source of water, or other liquid suitable for painting.

6) What do you enjoy about travel painting?

As much as I love the desert southwest, I miss international travel painting. Mixing international travel and painting is fun, a natural high. My career with Celebrity taught me that travel painting is not just about the painting. I need the travel. In the past, I traveled to a location to paint. Now, I paint while I travel. Big difference for me. Everywhere is a “location”. I enjoy where-ever I am and I can paint there, too.
Travel painting also stretches my personal envelope. I do not consider myself adventurous or gregarious, but I like to going places and seeing things. Meeting people is a by-product of painting on location. Painting is a good, non-threatening way to meet people. People of all ages and occupations (e.g., locals, tourists, school children, waiters, police) have come up to me. One of my more memorable conversations was with a young French woman as I was drawing the Villefrance waterfront. She sat down and we chatted for about ten minutes, me in English, she in French, about "Je ne sais pas". What fun!

Seville

Villefranche

Lisbon

Images not listed directly under are from top to bottom; San Francisco from Bow of Ship, Drawing in Alesund, Norway and Honolulu

Michael Liebhaber: A Brief Biography

Michael’s paintings and sculptures have been exhibited at the University of Arizona, Boehm Galley at Palomar College in San Marcos, CA, San Diego County Fair, Western Connecticut State University, Silo Gallery at Hunt Hill Farm Trust in New Milford, CT, Artists and Friends Invitational in Newtown, CT, and Prince Street Gallery in New York.

His work was featured in The Litchfield County Times Monthly in New Milford, CT and his haunting three-dimensional portrait of Osama bin Laden was used on the cover of The Telescope Weekly in San Marcos, CA to illustrate their review of the 2002 Student Show at Palomar College. His cut and welded steel sculpture, Ripple, won second place in abstract sculpture at the 2003 Exhibition of Art at the San Diego County Fair. Michael has also designed magazine and books covers, advertisements, brochures, and logos, and has illustrated all types of print media. He has designed and coded websites and has taught website design.

Michael grew up in the wild, wild, west of the USA. He spent most of his formative years in the desert around Tucson, Arizona walking with coyotes, chasing snakes, scorpions, and rabbits, crawling into abandoned mines looking for treasure, and hanging with the occasional old time cowboy. Really, he did. Those experiences gave him his love and inquisitiveness about nature, places, and people.

Since then he has lived in every part of the United States, traveled to many parts of the world, and painted in some interesting places. Despite his misspent youth, he has received many academic degrees (PhD in Child Language and MFA in Painting among others). He programmed computers (when computers were new), was a MacArthur Foundation Postdoctoral Fellow, taught at various colleges, and spent a number of years researching and designing some pretty sophisticated computer information systems.

He has recently taken time to travel and focus on his artwork. He traveled the world with Celebrity Cruises as a manager of shipboard internet cafes. It was during that time that he began his Travel Watercolor Series.

Coming Soon!

In a few weeks we will be posting an interview of travel painter Michael Liebhaber conducted by fellow painter Tom Laukkanen. In the meantime you can learn more about Michael Liebhaber on his web page www.michaels-travels.com.

A Question and Answer with Tom Laukkanen

The following is an interview between David Frank and Tom Laukkanen covering Tom's seven week solo trip to New Zealand January/February 2010. This was his first trip overseas.

Photo taken at Albert Park in Auckland, NZ

I want to start with something you said in your last interview. You said that, “There’s times when I’m caught up with work or other people and I lose sight of the art and it will call. It will call to me, ‘I need to paint.’” Before this trip was there a call, and if there was a call, what was it?

Before the trip the call had been there on a nightly basis beckoning me to not necessarily travel or go to New Zealand, or to paint, but to do something. It was not subtle. It was something inside that needed to be answered. I guess, it’s almost a question of your own happiness and your own sanity. What’s going to happen if you live in this world that is upon you by refusing the call? It’s something that can motivate and drive you and eventually you have to answer it, or you will go insane. What keeps your sanity through the whole thing is using it as motivation. Doing the 9 to 5 has value because it gets you to the point to take that trip or answer that call, whatever it may be. The mundane becomes a lot more gratifying when you know it’s going to something that is actually going to bring you happiness and take you into the unknown and unexplored.

How did you settle on New Zealand as your destination?

I don’t know why, but I had a fair amount of anxiety about traveling solo overseas.

I chose New Zealand for a couple of reasons. First of all, it’s stunningly beautiful. Secondly, because of my lack of travel experience, I didn’t think that thrusting myself into a third world country was appropriate for me and I thought NZ would be a good place to start, safe yet still provide me with challenges I’m not used to. Lastly, I chose NZ because it so damn cold in Minnesota during the winter.

Photo of gannet colony at Muriwai Beach near Auckland, NZ

Your previous travel to this trip had been to different regions within the U.S. and Canada. Now you’ve gone to someplace completely foreign and outside this range. What were the major differences for you?

I found out quickly that the anxiety over traveling abroad was over nothing. There weren’t what I would call major differences between NZ and anywhere I’ve been. Culturally, they are pretty similar. The main difference for me was being alone for seven weeks with nobody to answer to except myself, it’s a really freeing experience.

Was there anything in New Zealand that surprised you, that you weren’t expecting, that left you baffled or stunned?

Honestly, the surprise of some people, from the local people, that someone was out there painting. They didn’t seem to have a lot of people that painted from life. I know it’s been done there, but they seemed pleasantly surprised. They’re interested in you, especially when they find out you’re foreign, and some would ask, “How come you’re here painting my country?” Of course, the landscape itself was very stunning.

The thing however that stunned me the most was the hospitality of all the people I stayed with, got rides from, and helped me along my way. They’re guidance and companionship is something that will live with me forever.

Photo of my friend Andrew and me

What gear did you bring? In terms of painting supplies what was your kit?

My usual case will carry an 18” x 24” canvas and I was intent on bringing it but at the last minute, a couple days before my trip, I decided to buy a smaller case. I was sure I couldn’t carry it on the plane, it’s made of metal and heavy, and I didn’t want to carry it the whole time. So I bought a lighter case that would still encompass a 16” x 20” and a 14” x 18” canvas.

I had my oils. I didn’t carry any turpentine, I bought that while I was in New Zealand. And I brought a small easel. I bought a camping cutting board and carved my palette from that, that way it fit in my case carrying my paints. Other than that, a few brushes and a roll of canvas.

Travel Kit

How did your first painting come about?

I got my first painting done while I was in Rotorua.

Rotorua is a city?

Yeah, it’s a city in the center of the North Island with hot springs and geysers and smelled of sulfur. It was really kind of touristy and expensive. It was worth checking out, but I wouldn’t have felt bad to bypass it.

My first painting was at a place called Champagne Pool. There was a bunch of steam coming off this pool and some crazy colors, something I’ve never attempted to paint and I figured let's just try it. It was really...not my favorite place in the world, but it was an exciting part of the trip because I was getting my first painting done, in a new environment, doing it in a big crowd of people, which can get inside my head and make me nervous sometimes.

Were you happy with your first painting in Rotorua?

Technically, I wasn’t impressed with the painting, but doing it is a feeling I’ll remember. I’m happy with every painting. There’s a feeling of numbness and exhaustion, yet elation. I’m sure if you set off to run a marathon, you put a lot of preparation into it, similar to painting, there’s some preparation whether its scouting or getting your breathing right and the act of doing it. There’s an exhaustion and numbness at the same time. It’s not a precise feeling, just a good overall feeling.

After you finished?

Yeah, whether the painting's bad or good, you’re pleased overall and not with the painting specifically but with the process you’ve undertook. A painting is special not because the way it turned out, but because of the experience. The experience dictates the feeling much more than the technical success or failure of a painting.

Did you end up looking for certain things to paint? Did you develop any sort of pattern with your painting?

For the most part I look for things I enjoy. At the same time, in the back of my mind I think I have to capture this in the best way possible and it might not be what I’m comfortable with. I did plenty of what I’m comfortable with to no regret. Landscapes inspire me by the natural beauty without obstruction of man-made things. At the same time, there are different people, different things. In New Zealand there are boats everywhere, and I didn’t paint a single boat. I wish I would have. I’m constantly trying to push the envelope for what I’m comfortable with, and sometimes I do it and sometimes I don’t. If I just stay with what I’m comfortable with it starts to get boring and becomes less of a challenge. If I can let go of myself in situations where it’s crowded or someone is really annoying or obnoxious then I have control of myself. It’s something I work on wherever I go and doesn’t matter if I’m home or away. It’s taking small steps forward to allow yourself to change but not feeling a need to rush. I take it as I want, in whatever increments I want, without feeling badly about it or any pressure.

Sunrise at low tide, Marahau, NZ

Sunsetting behind mountains, Marahau, NZ

Do you have plans on a gallery to showcase your work on this trip or previous travels?

Yes, since 2004 I’ve been painting in the U.S. and I don’t know if it will include my experience in New Zealand, or if it will be from the era of experience traveling in the U.S. I plan on doing it outside of the industry, which will probably involve renting my own space and having my own show.

Fisherman and Gannet Colony at Muriwai Beach near Auckland, NZ

Are you interested in selling your work?

Not at the moment. Painting for me is just a way of documenting my experiences, which are much more rich and full than any one painting by itself. I feel it’s important for me to keep my work together to illustrate this bigger picture, one’s life experience.

Do you have short-term plans to show your work?

I’d like to have a show, but where? I’ve shown my work in coffeehouses and libraries and other venues that are unjuried and I appreciate that. The only problem is that the reason for one being there is to get coffee, or check out a book, or deposit money in a bank and the artwork there is secondary. For the time being I don’t know where this is going. I’m a novice at this, and my feelings are subject to change, but right now I feel like the industry is turning artists into craftspeople. I want to find a different venue that says the expression is free, a place where the art is there to impact the viewer not in the sense of its monetary value but in terms of shared experience and where art is the primary reason people are there. That’s why I’m here on this blog.

Mitre Peak, Milford Sound, NZ

What is it you’re striving towards with your painting?

To be at one with myself, to be at one with the world, and to let go of fear and desire and really be a part of myself, society, the world, the universe. To be active and to be involved.

During one painting a lady came up to me, and I’m not having an easy time painting, between comments from people walking by and the amount of people, and she said, “You’re a painter.” I said, “Yeah, although I’m struggling at the moment.” And she replied, “That really isn’t the point, is it? You’re out here, aren’t you?” She really hit the nail on the head. It isn’t the point. As long as I know I’m a struggling painter, I can let go of myself. I can embrace the struggle. It’s universal.

Blue Moon Rise over Ruby Bay, Mapua, NZ

What plans for future travel do you have, whether specific or not specific? What are your plans for travel painting?

Being away I met so many people from so many different places and I’m so fresh from being back from my trip, I want to go to everyplace on the planet at once. I know that’s not logical, but travel’s definitely in my future and it’s something I’ve just accepted as being a part of my life. I want to progress towards things that are more difficult than New Zealand, things that are less comfortable for me, and things that will push me in a direction headed towards the unknown where I’m forced to rely more on my instincts and less on external pressures.

As far as my painting goes, I’ll do it until I don’t enjoy it anymore.

Next generation travel painter?