While some dream in black and white, I paint in black and white. Acrylics. I have been doing so since Ron Sachse, my high school art teacher, slid paint, brushes and a palette in front of me. I still use the same palette to this day. And I have always fancied Mars Flat Black by Liquitex. And I love it. This blog was created to capture my ongoing art work - from final initial sketch to final stroke, my evolving style, and your comments.
Tom Waits' voice. 
About a year ago a friend asked if I would do a painting of OSU coach Woody Hayes for her church's silent auction at the holidays. It took only about 20 seconds of a Google Image search to find this great shot. I loved the composition, side profile. I knew instantly that I could work with it. In fact, it's one of those pieces that came together so well that it almost painted itself. Maybe because it was for a benevolent cause. Who knows. Still, once done, I had it scanned and, with the help of a friend with a high-end printer at his business, had a short run of limited prints made. I matted the prints in a burgundy that plays off of the red "O" in his hat (which I like a lot). Profits went to The Open Table, the food pantry at the church I attend. I believe that I have a few prints left. If interested, just shoot me a note. Thanks! ronkellow@gmail.com 
Dizzy Gillespie turned his life from knife-carrying roughneck to global citizen, and from alcohol to soul force. Perhaps Wynton Marsalis put it best, "His playing showcases the importance of intelligence. His rhythmic sophistication was unequaled. He was a master of harmony—and fascinated with studying it. He took in all the music of his youth—from Roy Eldridge to Duke Ellington—and developed a unique style built on complex rhythm and harmony balanced by wit. Dizzy was so quick-minded, he could create an endless flow of ideas at unusually fast tempo. Nobody had ever even considered playing a trumpet that way, let alone had actually tried. All the musicians respected him because, in addition to outplaying everyone, he knew so much and was so generous with that knowledge."
A young Dorothy Day embraced the counter culture, bohemian lifestyle of New York City in the 1920's. She was an open agnostic. Her clothes were all from second-hand shops. She valued her independence. And she felt that she needed no one.
anarchist and constant war protestor, Day continued to question authority and often made the church "uncomfortable." And yet, she took seriously Christ's command to be responsible for our neighbor; the individual on the street who was forgotten by society, the one lying on the park bench that we pass each day. She became a beacon to the poorest of the poor, setting up numerous establishments to help feed, clothe, and comfort the poor - the very basis of Christianity.
By 1968, Johnny Cash had already gained what most musicians can only dream of: fame, fortune and a seeming endless following of fans. But to Cash, his life was empty. According to friends, he claimed to have "tried every drug there was." His first marriage had failed. And he was terribly lonely. In the spring of that year, under the clouded influence of drugs, he went to Nackajack Cave in Marion County, Tennessee in an attempt to kill himself. As he descended deeper into the cave, trying to lose himself and "just die," he passed out on the floor. He said that he was exhausted and feeling at the end of his rope when he felt God's presence in his heart and managed to struggle out of the cave by following a faint light and slight breeze. To Cash, it was his own rebirth.
Now, let me start by saying that I HATE to be the center of attention. Really. So putting all my paintings on walls and inviting the world to come and see is like stripping naked, spraying myself with fluorescent orange p
aint, and running down a crowded street. Still, when Phyllis Catania, the spouse of one of my very best friends, asked me if I would like to exhibit my work at her gallery, the Art Loft, there was no way I could say no. And, truth be told, it was a great learning and growing experience for me. I liked it. In fact, I would love to do nothing but paint for the rest of my days. I'd live to be 120+ years old. Shouldn't we all find jobs we love so we never have to work another day?
It's hard to describe this guy. The "nocturnal" quality of Davis's playing and his somber reputation, along with his whispering voice, earned him the lasting moniker of "prince of darkness", adding a patina of mystery to his public persona. But when he played he was pure genius. One of his earlier works, Round Midnight, is still one of my favorites. I added it below. Hearing it, it always smooths out my emotions. And on a side note, that's a young Herbie Hancock on the piano.
I don't know much about John Malkovich other than what I have seen on the screen. In life, he's a relatively private individual. His father, Daniel Malkovich, was a state conservation director and publisher of Outdoor Illinois, a conservation magazine. While his mother, Joe Ann, owned the magazine. Because of his father's work, the Malkovich family is widely regarded as one of the founding families of the environmental movement in Illinois.
This painting marks a trio of new ventures for me.
She has been considered one of the most beautiful women of all time. The styles that she embodied continue to be popular among women today.
At Grace Point, we are blessed with two absolutely wonderful youth pastors, Steve and Ryan.
One afternoon in front of a rural gas station somewhere outside of L.A., a young Herb Ritts snapped a few pictures of his friend, an aspiring actor named Richard Gere, posing in a ripped T-shirt and jeans. The pictures were a huge hit. And Ritts never looked back.
I wish I had a funny story about this guy. But I don't. Herb Ritts was the consummate fashion photographer. Smart enough to let his work take center stage. And modest enough to let it speak for itself.
Truth be told, I never fancied her work. I respect it. Admire it. And value it. But I would never hang it. (And Lord only knows what she'd think of my work.) But when it comes to Georgia O'Keeffe the person, I am the hugest fan. So many words make up this small-framed woman. Strong. Talented. Confident. Independent. Free. Alive. Yes, truly alive.
Above is one of my first pieces from 1991. It's from a photograph taken by her husband, Alfred Stieglitz, in 1932. I plan on doing another soon. A great head-on shot of her in her later years. Still beautiful and strong. Stay tuned.
After starting her career in the theater, and eventually Broadway, Meryl Streep auditioned for one of her first motions pictures, King Kong. The film's producer, Dino De Laurentiis, thought she was so wrong for the part that he commented to his son in Italian, "She's ugly. Why did you bring me this thing?" Streep stunned them both when she replied to them in fluent Italian.
In a Columbus, Ohio Holiday Inn hotel bar, during one of his first U.S. performances, a brassy 24-year-old Elvis Costello engaged in a drunken argument with Stephen Stills and Bonnie Bramlett. It's said that the young Costello shouted racial slurs against both Ray Charles and James Brown. Charles, who later forgave the young performer, said, "Drunk talk isn't meant to be printed on paper!" 
n 1998 with Burt Bacharach for the equally haunting and romantic Painted from Memory (worth the click) silenced even his harshest critics. Few performers have experimented and turned constant trial into resounding success as Costello. 
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Here's one that came together rather quickly. Divine intervention? (smile) It's one of my largest at 24x30".
Here's the final product. I have to think for a moment, is this the first painting of someone I actually know? Just might be. Aside, of course, from the large portrait of Jesus Christ that I did for Grace Point Church. I'll share that one in a future post. Pamela has been asking me for years to do paintings of our girls. And an accomplished painter whom I've recently been in touch with has encouraged me to seek "subject inspiration" beyond magazine photos. Maybe I'll have to start listening.If you missed my initial write up on Jim Fiscus, click here.
Comments are welcome. And as always, enjoy.
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In the mid-1980's, an intoxicated Mick Jagger phoned Charlie Watt's hotel room in the middle of the night asking where "his drummer" was. Watts, the quiet, reserved and mega-talented fellow member of The Rolling Stones, reportedly got up, shaved, dressed in a suit, descended the stairs and punched Jagger directly in the face, saying, "Don't ever call me 'your drummer' again. You are my f___ing singer!"
haps impresses me the most about Charlie Watts is that through all the tours with The Rolling Stones, all the all-nighters, and all the partying, he is legendary for remaining faithful to his wife, Shirley, whom he met and married in 1964. Together, they have one daughter, Seraphenia, as well as a baby granddaughter.
Here's a work-in progress of Jim Fiscus. See my previous posting on him for more about the man. Hopefully, I'll have this one done in a few days. Or weeks.
Just a follow up to my previous work-in-progress posting on Marilyn Monroe. This piece is 20"w by 16"h. I sketched it out many years ago. It only took me about two weeks to paint.
You know the scene at the end of When Harry Met Sally. Billy Crystal is walking alone in New York City, realizing that he's truly, hopelessly fallen in love with Meg Ryan. The story is so convincing that every guy in the theater had already fallen moments prior. (Go on, click the link. The "build" is worth every bit of the seven minutes.) And you know, Meg Ryan isn't drop-dead gorgeous. She's just real. Or at least Nora Ephron totally convinced us so for two hours. She reminded us that love is not about being together under the sheets. It's about being together over years. Laughing. Crying. Growing. It's about the stuff that matters ... and what we remember. Oh, and just to clarify, my "Sally" is Pamela. 
She is the daughter of legendary actress Ingrid Bergman (Casablanca) and Italian director Roberto Rossellini. And by the time she was 28, Isabella Rossellini was the exclusive spokes model for Lancome and had worked with the likes of Annie Leibovitz, Richard Avedon (see my first posting), Robert Mapplethorpe, Norman Parkinson, and Helmut Newton. But she is much more than a pretty face. Today, Rossellini is an activist for wildlife and conservation issues, as well as a writer and co-producer of several short-film series. Her talent comes from within. And it shows.
They would say, "Isabella Rossellini! You really captured her ... in very few lines." And over the years, I must confess that she is capturing me in return. Her inner beauty is emerging. In a recent article on how she is going back to school to study animal behavior (so very cool) she said, "If you follow your heart and do what you like, there's a better chance that that is where your talent lies."
Artists love Marilyn Monroe. Warhol is a good example.
What an extraordinary life and talent. You may not have ever heard of Philip Johnson, but there's a good chance you may have experienced his work. In 1956, he collaborated with Mies van der Rohe as the New York associate architect for the 39-story Seagram Building. It would be his first of several postmodern masterpieces that would adorn New York City. Others include the the AT&T Building (now the Sony Building) and the New York State Theater at Lincoln Center. He perfected the harmony of glass and metal in structures. Still, it wasn't an overshadowing skyscraper that would be his masterpiece, but a s
mall home in Connecticut. In 1949, Johnson designed and built a home for himself with exterior walls that were entirely glass. "The Glass House" (worth clicking the link) is an essay in minimal structure, geometry, proportion, and the effects of transparency and reflection. It was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1997. The house was the place of Philip Johnson's passing in 2005 at the age of 98. After Johnson's death ownership of the Glass House passed to the National Trust for Historic Preservation, which opened it to visitors in April 2007. 
I had the pleasure of meeting and working with Jim in February of 2008. (Another handsome bald man.) We shot throughout L.A. for one of my day job's larger pharma accounts. Jim has a coolness, style, perception, and vision like few others. Having worked with several photographers for ad shoots over the years (both large and small gigs), Jim was one of the best. Inspiration enough for a painting, yes? So, I contacted his rep and she sent me a hi-res of the pic here. Perfect. I sketched it out the other night and, Lord willing, will be applying acrylic to canvas this weekend. So, stay tuned ... 
I paint people whom I admire. Or, I admire their work. In this case, both. Avedon's photography has always fascinated me. Not as much for his glamour work. But more for his gritty real-life pieces. Born in New York City, I believe he remained faithful to his cosmopolitan roots by becoming an acclaimed fashion photographer for such publications as Vogue, Harper's and Life. Conversely, you truly get a sense of Avedon's great creative spirit in his book In the American West. Here, his work is much different and larger-than-life. Literally. His "west" pictures are often produced at sizes of 3-feet and larger. It's worth Googling. Having passed away in 2004, his work lives on at his foundation's web site. 
