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When conversation around the firepit goes to discussing the fastest animal on the planet, the Cheetah typically hits the top of the list.  And this is valid because the Cheetah can reach speeds of 70 mph, but only for short distances. But do you know that the Pronghorn Antelope can set the cruise control to 60 mph for several miles at a time! During one of my archery hunting excursions in Gillette, Wyoming with binoculars in tow, I found myself at the corner of the 100 square mile Durham Ranch, when we came upon a group of Pronghorn. The buck had become separated from the does and fawns. I found myself completely immersed in this story about to unfold. With a pacing, indecisive stance it became increasingly obvious that he was uncomfortable with his separation from his herd. Then with his locomotive attitude, he burst out zero to 60!  I observed the transition as he turned on what appeared to be the jet engines, nostrils flaring, muscles rippling, as legs and hooves seemed to disappear into his personal dust cloud.  In a matter of seconds, he covered the ground that was the source of his separation anxiety, and softly trotted back into his earned position of rank.  Here lies the emotional connection with my painting of “Freight Train.”

In January 2015, while on a field trip in eastern North Carolina in a quest for reference materials for my paintings, I found myself at the Pungo Unit of Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge.  This sprawling 12,350 acres coastal refuge located in North Carolina’s Inner Banks region on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula is an overwintering home to vast flocks of migrating waterfowl like snow geese, red-winged blackbirds and my favorite, the tundra swan.

By chance and blessed with some guidance from those familiar with the Pungo Unit, we found ourselves literally standing in the center of the waterfowl’s story - 100,000 Snow Geese and 20, 000 Tundra Swans, with natural orchestration, simultaneously converged on the same field, for an evening snack and overnight accommodations.  That day our unexpected stop was, and continues to be, one of the most spectacular occurrences that I have ever experienced in nature!  It was on that evening, sharing the field with these exquisite birds, that I began to understand the true emotional connection between my heart and the art I paint on canvas. Every year I now plan a trip to the Pungo Unit to capture more photos, but mostly to visit old friends.

On a clear, cold January morning, I was blessed with a handful of great egrets hanging out on our dock overlooking the Intracoastal Waterway.  What made this moment exceptional for me was these visitors all came with their personality in tow.  You could just see their thoughts.  Each bird was focused on basking in the bright morning sun while attempting to hold off the brisk cold January winds, as if their overcoats were wrapped around their shoulders waiting to be buttoned up.  I knew at that time it was a special moment, contrasts of the warm sun against the cold blowing winds. I was immersed in the story, a story waiting to be told on canvas.  This is the day the Great Egret Series began.      

Every four years the Cameron Art Museum, in Wilmington, North Carolina, features an exhibit called, State of the Art/Art of the State, where within a 24-hour period, contemporary artist come from all over the state, stand in long lines, bring a single work of art where a nationally renowned curator will be present to greet each artist, offer observations about their piece and officially enter the piece into the museum’s exhibit.  It was 2018 and by the time my turn came to meet with the curator, it was late in the evening, and coming to the end of a long day for the curator.  It was apparent that he was visibly exhausted.  As I handed him my painting, “Date Night,” a 16”x12” original acrylic on linen, a pair of Painted Buntings nestled in the bows of a long leaf pine, he looked down at the painting, and quickly responded with, “I have never seen before anyone paint emotion in animals”.  He then turned, handed the piece to an assistant, and we were done.  Driving away, I remember telling my wife  just how confused and let down I was with the experience.  I was completely discounting the comments from the curator, thinking, "that’s it, painting emotion in animals?"  The next few days went by, and his words would not go away, and what began as a point of frustration turned into a true aha moment.  He was right, painting emotion in wildlife is exactly what I do.  It is exactly why I want to get the eyes just right, the head and posture positioned correctly, and a background that will capture action and movement, all setting the stage of the story being told.  This is why I spend as much time in the field as I do in the studio, always looking for ways to experience those up-close moments that capture the emotion of our neighbors that live in the wild.  It is the foundation for the story within each painting.  This is truly what I love doing - telling their story through the lens of my canvas.

As an outdoor enthusiast and wildlife artist, I look for ways to experience the stories that can become a painting.  I love being out among my art subjects as much as I can, watching and learning from them.  Whether it's a group of egrets sunning themselves, a young buck frolicking or a wild buffalo walking a meadow, I find the composition I'm looking for by observing them in their natural habits and seeing their movements and interactions.  In doing so I find a story is well integrated into the piece before the first brush stroke is put down. 

Somewhere along this journey, I found myself transform from being just an artist, to being an artist that is also a self-proclaimed photographer.  Originally the photography came out of necessity, looking for subject matter that would yield the compositions that my heart desired.  And having a passion for being outdoors on hunting and fishing trips, it was easy to add the camera bag to the gear.  Little did I know in those early days this was the beginning of my experiencing and understanding the emotional connection that must develop between me and the subjects I paint.  Here is where my art stories begin.