So the exhibit ended on May 10, 2014. It was a successful exhibit for a couple of reasons. One is that I now have two paintings no longer in my possession. Barcelona Rooftops was sold to a private collector and Cidade à Noite became a part of the museum's permanent collection. The owner of the museum, Guido Viaro (the grandson of the Brazilian painter of the same name for whom the museum is dedicated to), has been gracious enough with his time to introduce me to various galleries across Curitiba, as well. My exposure was good and I'm happy with the results. Opening night saw more people come than any other opener I've done, and it wasn't just friends and family either, but a slew of people in the art community who I've never met before. Of course this is good as now more people have had the opportunity to see my work and spread the word.

Thanks to all who came, helped, and participated. There's only one direction to go now, and that's straight up.

These past few years have been a real struggle. I guess I knew what I was getting into when I left my comfy job in the healthcare finance world, but I didn't know just how challenging the early years would be. In fact, I'm not out of the water yet, but next week marks the beginning of the next step forward. Of course, I hope there are many more steps like this in the years to come.

I will be exhibiting at the Guido Viaro Museum in Curitiba, Brasil. This museum is dedicated to the work of the Brazilian artist Guido Viaro, who was one of Brasil's more important painters of the early-to-mid 1900s. It also hosts many exhibits for regional artists while its permanent collection has many works from artists from the state of Paranà, which is in the south of Brazil. As a part of this exhibit, one of my works will also become a part of the permanent collection.

Of course this is an exciting moment for me, and I'm really happy to be taking this next step. I have a lot of work still to do to improve my skills as a visual artist, but this is an important first step. Please wish me luck. I hope this carries forward well into the future.

Greg (April 2014)

We were in the early days of the warm Brazilian summer when a collector sent me an e-mail with a photo she had just taken from her bedroom window. Deep in midst of her PhD thesis, the late evening sun had caught her gaze and distracted her long enough to see the distant cityscape slowly turn into dark hues of yellows, oranges, reds, and greys before giving way to the darker blues of the night sky above. It was a reminder to her that her thesis was going take away another summer, her second in two years with last year's being spent in the cool winter of Andalusia, Spain conducting the research that was now being absorbed in bulk onto her computer.

I looked at the picture and her request to remember what summer was like. She wanted the painting for the new year, just before the most intense period of writing that she was going to do, and I pondered just how I was going to pull it off. I'm not a painter who can sit down and give you exactly what you want. I paint by emotion, and this requires patience. If I don't feel it in any particular moment then the painting is probably going to come off poorly. My best paintings have come from extended periods of bonding with that particular painting. Everything else, for me anyway, is just practice. I had less than two weeks to put this together and to decide which colors would mix best and how I would layer everything. It wasn't until December 30th that I finally had an idea of what I wanted to do. After having thought about it for a good 12 days, the sketch came together wonderfully, then the yellows sat across the middle, and the reds above blended into orange in between. The blues came down over the charcoal blocks and the excess was worked into the reds above to create a line of greens and greys before giving way to the night sky above. The final touch was the dabs of yellow where the lights had turned on. I never even looked at the photo while I painted. I didn't need to, because the photo was what was there for her. The painting was what was there for me.

My advice to anyone buying art: buy the artist, not the painting. You may never know what the artist will give you, but you'll always have a connection knowing that he or she put himself or herself into the piece of work. It's that personal touch that matters most, and will carry weight with it forever.

I saw a recent documentary by Nova on some of today's young artists (New Art and the Young Artists behind it). The artists made some interesting comments about what it takes to be an artist in today's world. Tofer Chin said he thinks its about 50-50 quality of art to marketing. I agree with him, and it's not easy to be a marketer when you just want to focus on the art. I guess this is the world we live in, though.

I added my image of New Year Gift here because I could see this painted on a large wall somewhere, much like many of the art shown in the video. well, enjoy!

English: I was recently interviewed on TV for eParaná´s program Cultura. Now I have an interview with Paraná´s largest newspaper, Gazeta do Povo. There are two links: 1) the article and; 2) the vídeo. I will put both below, but in reality the vídeo is at the bottom of the article. Also, the vídeo is below here,too.

I´m happy with this interview, too. It was very well done. Both the journalist and cameraman were beyond professional and thorough. I hope you enjoy it.

Português: Recentemente, eu fui entrevistado na TV eParaná no programa Cultura. Agora eu tenho uma entrevista no maior jornal do Paraná, Gazeta do Povo. Existem dois links: 1) o artigo e; 2) o vídeo. Vou colocar os dois em baixo, mas o vídeo é embaixo do artigo. Também, o vídeo está embaixo aqui.

Estou feliz com essa entrevista. Foi bem feita. Tanto a jornalista e o homem da câmera foram muito profissionais e dedicados. Espero que você desfrute.

The article (em Português)
The article (in English via google translate)
The vídeo (which is at the bottom of the article, only in Portuguese)

I decided on a new project to paint the streets of Curitiba, Brasil. I'm not choosing streets based on their fame or beauty, but more on their composition. I guess that's beauty in the end, and I'm not sure what it means that many of the streets I chose ended up being smack dab in the middle of the favelas here, but either way it says something about how I choose objects. For example, I have a long-term project to document flamenco, but I'm not interested in painting a dancer, musician, or singer on stage. I'm much more interested in painting the bar where they hang out, their worn shoes, or the collapsing house that they grew up in. That's flamenco to me, and that's also composition to me as well. Composition isn't just placement, but also topical perspective.

But I digress. This simple project will have about 7-10 canvas paintings, and I plan to do 4-6 studies on paper beforehand to get a feel for the colors. I can't duplicate a painting that I've done before, so I don't expect these studies to be transferred to canvas magically. But it's funny because while the studies of the first painting turned out to be pretty nice (see some of them here), the canvas has stymied me. The left side is nearly perfect; so much so that I've decided to not add windows to a building because the blank wall looks damn well. The left side is consistent and I believe it represents some of my best work, but the right side is wildly the opposite. I originally hoped that I could pound this out in a week, but it's looking more like a month-long painting at least. It turns out that painting is hard.

Of course I knew this. I'm not naturally gifted like many doodlers are, for example. If you ask me to draw a cat right now it'll be made of sticks. If I want to draw a good cat I need to really work at it, and that's fine. I enjoy the process of ups and downs quite a bit. Even the suffering is good. But this isn't my point. I believe it was Degas who once said that painting is easy when you don't know how, but very difficult when you do. It's a difficult concept to grasp as a painter, but I suppose all painters at least identify with it to some degree. As I progress in my abilities, I'm starting to have higher standards, to need specific tools, to mix paint to the right texture and consistency, to see a bad line from twenty feet away, or to know when to put the brush down and simply wait until I'm in the right frame of mind to identify what needs to come next. Perfect needs to feel right, and that feeling is becoming more and more powerful over time.

As someone who is always looking at the next achievement, it's difficult to look back down the curve and see how steep it was. I guess this is a good thing.