I was born in Denver, Colorado, on October 25, 1956, and am not yet dead. I am a smart ass.

For me, Painting is divided into two: the actual act of painting, and everything else. Regarding the latter, I have little to say here. Verbiage about expressing my vision, baring/exploring my soul, seeking my blah blah blah... read anybody else's blurb, we're mostly the same guy. (For an artist to crow about self-expression is akin to a fish bragging about swimming.)

As far as the process of painting is concerned, all is simple. You pick up a brush. As you work, you make good and bad choices, you recover from those choices or not, you like the piece or you don't. Regardless of the result, you got to paint, and that was the reward. Simple.

And then sometimes, if you can get out-of-the-way, something special happens. It's as if some Greater Force takes over your hand and creates something that you cannot quite take credit for. You have a great day. You find it hard to sleep that night, what with the goofy grin on your face and all. Remember to be grateful, not smug. The very best days are not quite your own, and you have been given a gift.
Isn't that really why we paint, to have those days?

For me painting is not complex. I just love to paint, and I hope that it shows.
Hubbard

PS- I would like to take this opportunity to thank Robbyn Peck of Hilo Fine Art Center, and my web/taskmaster Carlton Stout of Digital Blue Design. Digitally, I am still marginally capable at best. They have carried me this far and I am grateful. You guys no ka oi!