50" X 77" collage, ink, charcoal, and pastel 2015

Cranescape Series

A Houston transplant, I am fortunate to find myself living in a major US city.
I grew up in a small, poor border community and seeing a skyline of construction cranes is “emotionally inspiring to me – a symbol of opportunity”. I drew the four monumental pieces in the series the spring/summer of 2015. 

This past year while traveling I noticed that Miami, Washington DC, Dallas, Ft. Worth, and New York City all have skylines filled with construction cranes. With a bit of research I learned that the US is experiencing a construction boom. 

http://www.forbes.com/sites/erincarlyle/2016/02/10/building-boom-towns-the-metro-areas-with-the-most-new-construction/#e0dba195a5e0

My cranescapes record this moment in US economic history ($469.5 billion in construction starts in 2015). 

Each piece in the series is monumental in size

9'6" X 8' pastels, ink, and charcoal 2015

60" X 50" charcoal, ink, and pastel 2015

50" X 64" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015

50" X 60" collage,ink, charcoal and pastels 2016

30” X 22’

22” X 30”

79" X 50" paint, ink, and pastels  on stonehenge 2015

30" X 22" charcoal, ink and bubbles 2015

Easter of 2015 - grateful to have both kids in town we decided to go to the Buffalo Bayou Dog Park - all of us. My son Griffin took a slow mo video of our elderly Labrador Kitty. Kitty loved the dog park and would retrieve tennis balls from the pond like she was a two-year-old pup.  She would consistently drop the ball at your feet and as you would bend over to pick it up shake all the water off her coat right on to all those standing near by. My son’s video inspired my “shake shake shake” series.

30" X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015

30"X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles  2015

30" X 22" charcoal, ink, and bubbles 2015

30" X 22" charcoal, ink and bubbles 2015

30" X 22" collage, ink and pastel on stonehenge 2016

50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap

photo by will michels

"fetch I- VI" is part of my "shake shake shake" body of work.

50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016

photo by will michels

50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016

photo by will michels

50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 

photo by will milchels

50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016 

photo by will michels

50" X 60" collage, ink, gesso and soap on stonehenge 2016

photo by will michels

4' X 6' charcoal, ink pastels, 2015

4' X 5' charcoal, ink 2015

19" X 24" charcoal 2014

19" X 24" charcoal 2014

19" X 24" charcoal 2014

19" X 24" mixed media 2014

11" X 14" ink 2014

24" X 19" charcoal
 “Happy Dog” is a series of drawings and one sculpture. These pieces are inspired by the joyous act expressed by our black labrador Goose, when he rolls onto his back with his paws in the air, without a care in the world, and feeling the goodness of the moment. I will continue with these drawings and will start a life size of the sculpture in the near future. I named the series "Happy Dog" because the comment I always heard when people would see the sculpture for the first time was, "That is one happy dog.”. 

24"X 19" charcoal 2014

24" X 19" charcoal 2014

24" X 19' charcoal 2014

24" x 19" charcoal 2014

24" X 19" shoe polish and charcoal 2014

6' X 4' charcoal and ink 

 19" X 24" charcoal 2015

19" X 24" charcoal 2015

19" X 24" charcoal 2015

19" X 24"   mixed media 2015 

19" X 24" charcoal 2015

22" X 30" charcoal, and ink 2015

6' X 7' charcoal, ink and pastel 2015

6'6"X 8' charcoal, pastel and ink 2015

22" X 30" charcoal, pastel and ink 2015

85" x 50" collage, charcoal, ink, and pastel 2015

50" X 60" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015

22" X 30" charcoal and pastel 2015

"The Shadow of the Texas Rangers - late 1920's" The Texas Rangers in Fabens, Texas (a suburb of El Paso) This drawing is from an old photo my grandparents gave me.  The shadows were really bad but I always loved the photo.  These Texas Rangers used to board with my grand parents when they would go to the Texas/Mexico border during prohibition. My father remembers the Texas Rangers staying with them and going with his father to the edge of the Rio Grande River and leaving money under a rock.  The next day someone from Mexico would wade across the river on a mule get the money and leave bottles of booze in a hole under the rock. This is where the term mule came from. 

70" X 50" charcoal an ink 2015

30" X 22" charcoal, ink and pastel 2015

Comb Here
This piece is inspired by an out of focus photo I took in 1993.  My father stopped by my home as I was taking my son’s Easter photo. To make sure every hair was in place my father of little hair whipped out the comb he always carried in his shirt pocket. The quality of the photo was poor but the moment was priceless. 

30" X 22" ink, charcoal and pastel on stonehenge 2015

4' X 6' collage, ink and pastels on stonehenge 2015

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22' 

I was inspired to create this body of work very early on a Sunday morning when I was peacefully driving down Allen Parkway toward downtown. “Could You Be Loved” by Bob Marley was playing on the radio. The asphalt street, slightly curving to the right, sparkled in the glaring sunlight. The second that I saw the cyclists, I was inspired by their images, their lines, the rhythm they shared, and the obvious camaraderie that bound them. I remember Houston’s downtown skyline was lathered in dark shadows, the construction cranes motionless. The riders’ silhouettes, with broad shoulders and fit waistlines, bobbed back and forth over my dashboard as their black, spindle-like legs pumped the pedals right, left, right, left, never straying from the pool of their shadows, which dripped like oil into puddles. I stayed a safe distance behind and studied the rhythm of their images. Their body language, their energy, and their sense of being part of a pack stayed with me. The series currently consists of eighteen works on paper and three lenticulars.

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X  22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

watercolor ink monoprint

30" X 22"

water color and ink monotype 2017

30" X 22"

water color and ink momotype 2017

30" X 22"

water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017

 “Six members of a single family — four adults and two young boys — and four other swimmers had been swept away by powerful and deceptive rip currents churning below the water’s surface. “

                                                                                  - Washington Post

It was reported that there were not any lifeguards on duty, or rescue vehicles on the beach.  Someone yelled, “let’s build a human chain”. Such a beautiful and poetic act I could not resist documenting it with a water color.

water color monotype 30 " X 110" 2017

water color monotype  30" X 110" 2017

water color monotype 30" x 110" 2017

water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017

water color monotype 30" X 110" 2017

182'“ X 67’

image by Nash Baker

When you witness, or experience a horrific event there are images that hold onto you; images that will forever be conjoined to the experience.

Weathering Houston’s hurricane Harvey, I was glued to the TV and Houston’s social media postings. My eyes soaked up videos of contaminated waters creeping in the homes of nearby neighborhoods. I witnessed daring rescues of families as they were evacuated. In amazement, I watched mothers and children pile into garbage trucks, elderly folks in wheel chairs airlifted by helicopters. Through social media calls for help, it became obvious our cities first responders could not get to every home in need. Proudly, I saw brave Texans convert their flat bottom fishing boats, and jacked up pickup trucks into life rafts and search for those who called for help. No Texan would be left behind.

When our street drained, turning off the news and putting my social media in my pocket, I packed up my dry survivor’s guilt and headed down to the George R. Brown convention center to volunteer and treat my pain and my conscience. The Red Cross had turned one-third of the GRB into a families with pets section. Entering the building with dilated pupils I wove my way through the walk ways created by the clusters of cots and kennels occupied by families and their pets. It struck me that even in the midst of a disaster we humans create neighborhoods and small communities, we are pack animals. I headed towards the pop up pet supply store well stocked from donations made by citizens and the volunteer veterinary clinic where I would be helping out. Careful not to disturb the sleeping citizens of the newly formed families with pets city, I was confronted by a single cot. It was freshly dressed in a crisp white sheet accessorized with a fluffy white pillow and tucked in by a cozy, white flannel blanket decorated with tiny Red Cross logos all over. It was isolated from the others waiting for the next victim of Harvey to tuck themselves in and comfort them with safety. With all the rescue images of people trudging through unsanitary water, homes floating in floodwater fresh in my memory bank that cot was shockingly - humanity. Thirty thousand GRB citizens would be relieved to make it their new homestead. It was heart breaking and beautiful all at the same time. I could imagine if I had been rescued that cot would have been a long-awaited relief. I would not have asked the sheet thread count or if the cotton was grown pesticide free. My heart hurt for all those who were grateful to have such a cot. That cot, that crystal clear image of stripped down humanity, is the Harvey image that holds onto me.

Within weeks, I made two watercolor monotype pieces of the cot. One as I saw it and one with a pet waiting for its owner. I was pleased with their crispness and the delicate watery shapes seen when closely inspected. It occurs to me that the cot was so symbolic to me because of the constant looped eyewitness news reporting and abundance of social media posts. I was seeing the same strong images over and over. From my dry den, I too experienced Harvey.

water color monotype

22'“ X 30

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

watercolor monotype

22” X 30”

watercolor monotype

22” X 30”

watercolor monotype

22” X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

water color monotype

22'“ X 30”

watercolor monotype

44” X 30”

water color monotype

44” X 30”

watercolor monotype

44” X 30'“

50” X 120”

watercolor monotype

30" X 44"

watercolor monotype

These three pieces are sketches for future work. This is the north fence line sketch.

30" X 44"

watercolor monotype

sketch of the north fence line.

This is the second of three sketches of the proposed installation.

30” X 44”

watercolor monotype

image by Carlos Ocando

Horses are indeed a marvel of sensitivity and emotional energy. Eight months pregnant, Alex, my daughter-in-law, visiting a stable where she used to ride horses, had a beautiful moment with Diva, one of the horses. Even though Alex had never ridden Diva, it was clear that Diva had been affected by her caretaker's recent pregnancy.

Recording this emotional connection, I carefully manipulated watercolor ink and coconut oil into a chaos of independent cells. The placement of these physically independent cells creates the visual representation of a cellular-level spiritual connection between the Baby Whisperer and the unborn child.

This moment is a reminder that all species deserve much more credit than we often give them.

It also underlines how crucial it is to build connections with all creatures to restore and maintain a healthy ecosystem.

30" X 22"

watercolor monotype

image by Carlos Ocando

This body of work consists of 22 pieces. These 22 pieces are experiments with shapes for a proposed installation. An in-depth description can be found here.