The American West. I love the moments: tooled saddle creaking with the horse’s rhythm; glints of pink and gold on a sorrel’s glossy shoulder; a skinny cowboy crossing his arms and leaning on a corral rail. Impressions like these become a blast furnace of unexpected color in my brain that pulls the rug out from under my urban experience. The myth of the Old West puts a new slant on how I view life.
My paintings are a city slicker’s embrace of sun and pine and dust. A moment between swinging my leg over the saddle and settling into it. A minute of boot heels clomping on a plank floor. An hour of fiddle music by campfire as the door to yesteryear swings open. My Western Series celebrates this world and those who shared their own West with me.