What can 261 paintings tell me?

Since I began painting in February 2020, I’ve maintained a database of every painting I’ve created. Today that number stands at 261 paintings.

I have to admit, seeing them all printed out fills me with a little bit of pride. Not simply because of the number, but because of what it represents. For six and half years, I’ve remained devoted to my painting practice—even while continuing to work nearly full-time.

There have been busy stretches, frustrating paintings, experiments that went nowhere and plenty of paintings that never became what I hoped they would. But I kept painting.

And now I want to take a closer look at where all that painting has taken me.

I've already recognized one interesting push and pull in the way I paint:

I seem to have two competing impulses as a painter.

One wants to make a mark or a brush of color and leave it alone. The other wants to soften and blend, creating open areas of atmospheric color.

Can those two impulses coexist in the same painting? A few of my recent pieces are beginning to consciously explore that possibility.

Looking Back to Find the Way Forward

I’m not doing this because I want to put myself into a box or come up with a neat definition of my “style.”

I'm doing it because maybe my past work contains clues about where my work wants to go next.

When I’m making one painting at a time, I’m focused on the painting in front of me. I’m hoping that by stepping back and looking at six years of work as a whole, patterns will emerge that were almost impossible to see while I was in the midst of creating them.

So that's my little self-discovery project.

What kind of painter am I, anyway?

I don't know what those 261 little cards are going to tell me yet. And that's part of the fun.

I'll let you know what I discover.