Chad Little

Silent Dippin Dots

"I have always loved the patina of old toys, wagons, cars. I love the look of time and timelessness. A thing never becomes really beautiful until it is washed by use and attention. I...

"I have always loved the patina of old toys, wagons, cars. I love the look of time and timelessness. A thing never becomes really beautiful until it is washed by use and attention. I...

“I begin this short essay with my artists’ statement from 1997 because it illustrates my focus on emotion instead of on subject matter starting early on. I approached the idea of writing about what I paint back then with dread and tried to bypass it by being as honest as possible about my process. I’d like to think that I paint anything I want because through paint I can express how I feel. I started training to be an artist in early childhood. I studied texture. I learned about composition. I played with color and observed the beauty of line. My methods were unconventional and invented by me. Many different things inspired me: Cheerios in milk, clouds, hands in food, dry dusty dirt, wet mud puddles, coloring books, fashion photos in the newspaper and my keen need to observe my surroundings. When asked what I wanted to be when I grew up I had no answer. I just wanted to watch, and to observe the world around me. I’ve worked for years on a response to that complicated question “what is the work about?” I’ve developed all kinds of stories that seem to make sense at the time, but I have to ask, “isn’t this the same question as ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?”’ I am drawn to the figure, and to capturing physical expression in all types of situations, but especially when we are on our own. The body carries emotion, and most people are unaware that they reveal something of themselves when observed in private moments. When I was young I realized that I could easily understand the unspoken just by watching. It felt like a strange and isolating gift – and sometimes a curse – and I often felt confused and acted out in anger when the words didn’t match what I saw. But I still recognize all kinds of emotion there, and whether what I see is true or not, I relish the vulnerability of the moment. Color is another important tool for me. It’s a self-taught endeavor and one that I explore daily. Color mixing is similar to building flavors in a soup. A soup with just salt is watery and uninteresting. As in cooking, I pay close attention from the first layers what each color feels like in terms of its value, whether it’s warm or cool, and how it fits the composition. I am looking for something that feels harmonious with my nervous system. I begin with abstract shapes, then ask, “Is this shape interesting? Does this color work next to that one? Is it too strong? Is it helpful to the overall composition?” The more complex the mix, the more likely it is to hold my attention, and allow me to linger. Those puddles of paint sitting on my six foot glass palette...

“I begin this short essay with my artists’ statement from 1997 because it illustrates my focus on emotion instead of on subject matter starting early on. I approached the idea of writing about what I paint back then with dread and tried to bypass it by being as honest as possible about my process. I’d like to think that I paint anything I want because through paint I can express how I feel. I started training to be an artist in early childhood. I studied texture. I learned about composition. I played with color and observed the beauty of line. My methods were unconventional and invented by me. Many different things inspired me: Cheerios in milk, clouds, hands in food, dry dusty dirt, wet mud puddles, coloring books, fashion photos in the newspaper and my keen need to observe my surroundings. When asked what I wanted to be when I grew up I had no answer. I just wanted to watch, and to observe the world around me. I’ve worked for years on a response to that complicated question “what is the work about?” I’ve developed all kinds of stories that seem to make sense at the time, but I have to ask, “isn’t this the same question as ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?”’ I am drawn to the figure, and to capturing physical expression in all types of situations, but especially when we are on our own. The body carries emotion, and most people are unaware that they reveal something of themselves when observed in private moments. When I was young I realized that I could easily understand the unspoken just by watching. It felt like a strange and isolating gift – and sometimes a curse – and I often felt confused and acted out in anger when the words didn’t match what I saw. But I still recognize all kinds of emotion there, and whether what I see is true or not, I relish the vulnerability of the moment. Color is another important tool for me. It’s a self-taught endeavor and one that I explore daily. Color mixing is similar to building flavors in a soup. A soup with just salt is watery and uninteresting. As in cooking, I pay close attention from the first layers what each color feels like in terms of its value, whether it’s warm or cool, and how it fits the composition. I am looking for something that feels harmonious with my nervous system. I begin with abstract shapes, then ask, “Is this shape interesting? Does this color work next to that one? Is it too strong? Is it helpful to the overall composition?” The more complex the mix, the more likely it is to hold my attention, and allow me to linger. Those puddles of paint sitting on my six foot glass palette...

CHRIS GWALTNEY is a painter from Southern California. He paints in a lush style, combining areas of abstraction with loose figurative elements. He experiments with sensuous surface...

CHRIS GWALTNEY is a painter from Southern California. He paints in a lush style, combining areas of abstraction with loose figurative elements. He experiments with sensuous surface...

"Florence," a captivating Impressionistic masterpiece by the talented artist Irina Trushkova, beautifully captures the essence of one of the world's most enchanting cities. Rendered ...

60"x144" large scale painting, oil on canvas, created on two joined canvases. The deep blue palette gives a sense of underwater space in this grand depiction of coral reefs. Artist, Karen Marston presents this endangered species in a grand scale to show its beauty and importance to our environment. Karen Marston is a painter living and working in Brooklyn, NY. Her work has been seen in a number of solo exhibitions in New York City. In addition to her 2018 show Harbingers, at the Owen James Gallery in Soho, other recent solos include: 2017’s To Embrace the Whole Sky with the Mind, at Station Independent Projects on the Lower East Side, Demeter’s Wrath in 2016 at the Owen James Gallery and Storm Watch...

Original oil painting on canvas. Hand signed on front by the artist. Canvas is stretched. Artwork is in excellent condition. Certificate of authenticity included. All reasonable...

'Island of Broken Toys' 2019, a diptych contemporary oil on canvas painting by Tamera Avery, whose paintings are created with wit and wisdom. Avery's work...

In this series of portraits, Birch materializes enigmatic, ectoplasmic figures in his psychologically charged canvases linking sympathies between external forces and interior emotion...

Johannes Boekhoudt is a Dutch artist born on October 20, 1966. In 1973, Boekhoudt immigrated with his parents to Costa Rica, eventually working as a commercial and air ambulance pilo...