Welcome To My heArt!

This is where my heritage and life passions and talent all come together.

Back at the Easel... almost

After many months of packing and moving and unpacking... relocating to Bell County and getting settled in our new environment... I am finally painting again. This 18 x 24 oil is the first painting done completely in my new studio. I am very excited about the new studio and the work that will be coming out of it. I feel the very best is yet to come. 

"Last Light" was inspired by several field sketches done near Whitehall, Texas, a couple of Springs ago. I had been so busy with commissions and then moving that I never was able to render worthy works from those wonderful Plein Air sessions before the Hi-Ho job and other projects gobbled up the years.

What I saw, and am still enraptured with, was the gorgeous warm glow that caught on the bluebonnets seconds before the sun goes down behind the horizon. For literally about a minute...the tops of the bluebonnets turn almost VIOLET. The bluebonnets in shadow go purple... and there is this rich fiery glow across the world... and you look at it in a stupor and wish it would stay still so you could capture the subtle scene. I find the camera just cannot do the scene justice... and maybe my efforts combined with my field sketch do.

I just had TWO MORE stents put in my heart...  and am recovering... but I hope to be painting again real soon.

Stonewall Jackson: His Destiny and His Legacy

 After our to relocation to Bell County, first on my work list was this commission for my pastor back in Navasota. The final piece was the culmination of years of thought and study. And I spent the first year or so trying to get out of it!

Stonewall Jackson was arguably the greatest general to fight on American soil. His very name became synonymous with impervious power. CSA General Robert E. Lee depended on him like Moses did Aaron. Jackson waged war on the Union with such vigor and success that many think the South would have prevailed... if he had not been struck down in the middle of the Civil War.

So when my pastor asked me to consider painting a commissioned portrait of him, I was not sure I wanted to tie into such a controversial national subject. A painting of him could draw great ire and criticism. In the twilight of my career, in recent years I have tried to only dedicate my brush to worthy subjects. A few years ago I had spent over a year in the study of Joan of Arc, planning to do the ultimate modern portrayal of her, only to decide not to unduly elevate her. I told my pastor after several months of study of Stonewall Jackson, that I was still not sure whether he was a great leader or, like Joan, an enigmatic nut-job. 

Obviously, I finally found my answer, and agreed to paint the great general, if I could paint him in the way which I thought he would want to be remembered for eternity.

Few lovers of history, and especially Southern history, are aware that Stonewall Jackson, already an American war hero and military instructor, taught Sunday School to the black slave population while at VMI. In the heat of Abolitionist war cries and Southern defense of States Rights, Jackson violated Virginia Law and taught blacks to read and write during weekly studies of the Bible. He ignored the sneers of his peers and started a ministry to the negro population, which won him public criticism and put his job in jeopardy. Many Southerners saw blacks as inferior, perhaps not even human. It was considered to be a waste of time, and even treasonous toward the white race to teach them vainly to read and write. But their threats and objections ran into a stone wall.

Where many Southerners saw mere beasts of burden, beings unworthy to share the American promise of freedom and self-determination,  Stonewall Jackson saw human souls, children of God whom he was called to personally welcome into the family of God. He could not resolve the laws concerning slavery, but he could do what was right in his corner of the world

When General Stonewall Jackson was commissioned to lead Virginians into battle during the Southern Rebellion, he answered his call to duty, but he sent all of his Confederate paychecks back to his beloved little ministry at the Virginia Military Institute, to buy Bibles and educational materials. So great was his influence and devotion to his flock that no less than six black churches were started from his little Sunday School class held before the Civil War and Emancipation.

Some will look at this painting and suggest that it never happened like that. I did a great deal of research, but will admit that it is strictly an "artist's concept." In those days, churches did not have Sunday School the way we picture it, with divisions by age or children's ministries, and children "of age" were educated right along with the adults. Literacy was as much a focus as Doctrine. Children were known even then to learn faster and adapt better to the vigor of education. So I imagined a group of slaves, of all ages, gathered on a Sunday Morning, when some kind of military maneuver outside on the VMI grounds has caused a distraction. The younger children have run to the widow to see. Holding his Bible, Jackson the teacher has gone to gather his unruly flock, and take a gander himself. For a moment he is caught between doing God's Will, and answering the call of the "inventions of men." One would be his destiny, and the other his legacy.

As I painted the piece, it took on greater and greater significance for me, and eventually it became all mine, and not just a portrait commission for a client. The painting had epic contradictions, and yet was the epitome of the human condition. Artists love controversy associated with their works... as long as they can defend their position. Eventually the painting became more about forgiving Stonewall Jackson for his sad, ignobled destiny, however patriotic or ill-conceived it might have been, and rather focusing on Jackson's Eternal legacy... represented by the oil lamp held by one of his students... which became for me the light of Education, and for Christians, the Light of the World.