tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70308937343546339282024-03-05T09:40:34.785-08:00THE AIMLESSLY WANDERING ARTISTART, ADVENTURE, DAILY PAINTING, MICRO-BUSINESS, GYPSY CARAVAN, OIL PAINTING, AND DEEP THOUGHTSBARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-3371138446677301012019-12-20T09:52:00.001-08:002019-12-20T09:52:46.087-08:00THE MISTS of BIG SUR<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2b-Yo9GudfXiHHGBD4CkesGvgY5ZPdkCHsMOE-WfLMcUCFino4Vo06U0Naz40rDVKwdum7o9EHa0OkNj8rApmxPSfzUJXvEMeXQVVZ7Dpn-DDcNL5iY0j2k9iHSuPN_8nq12iUVDdoUn/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1600" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2b-Yo9GudfXiHHGBD4CkesGvgY5ZPdkCHsMOE-WfLMcUCFino4Vo06U0Naz40rDVKwdum7o9EHa0OkNj8rApmxPSfzUJXvEMeXQVVZ7Dpn-DDcNL5iY0j2k9iHSuPN_8nq12iUVDdoUn/s400/image.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div>
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THE MISTS of BIG SUR by Barry Allen Howard</div>
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9”x12” oil on canvas. $160</div>
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I was standing on the cliff-edge at my trusty, paint-splattered easel. It was one of those mornings where the fog moves like some living, breathing mist-creature. The winter weather has brought some pretty stunning cloudscapes. I got most of the composition and the lights and darks established before the fog finally made up its mind and obliterated the view entirely. I packed up the easel and drove back to my tiny caravan. Built a cozy fire, made a cup of tea and continued work on the painting for the rest of the day. I always love watching the dance that the coastal mists do along the cliffs. This was really a fun painting to do. </div>
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For inquiries about this painting please email me at barryhowardstudio@yahoo.com or message me on Facebook. </div>
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Thanks for following my blog!</div>
BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-20485158345940800152019-12-19T10:33:00.000-08:002019-12-19T10:33:39.383-08:00RUSTIC ELEGANCE , DEETJEN's BIG SUR INN<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMqACTEG_jWqMA0-v0ngIM2VA1Bvr4nuZJpMZeY0oRKq2xvVn_19EkS5Hag0kkBM8SG8oFpWr1OOf10stKSyAnqDWdAv2EZjAxDQFIciQSpoRjKfk-0PAGarl0ava68vvjFPUay40QCkB/s1600/2B9B72AA-D70C-4FEF-9297-4F3A1D674202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1183" data-original-width="1600" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMqACTEG_jWqMA0-v0ngIM2VA1Bvr4nuZJpMZeY0oRKq2xvVn_19EkS5Hag0kkBM8SG8oFpWr1OOf10stKSyAnqDWdAv2EZjAxDQFIciQSpoRjKfk-0PAGarl0ava68vvjFPUay40QCkB/s400/2B9B72AA-D70C-4FEF-9297-4F3A1D674202.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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CHATEAU FIASCO. by Barry Allen Howard </div>
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9”x12” oil on canvas. SOLD</div>
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For a long time I have wanted to begin a series of paintings of the historic Deetjens Big Sur Inn. My history with this unique inn goes back to the early 1980’s when I stopped in for breakfast on a road trip and ended up being hired on as a breakfast waiter. Deetjens is a place you have to experience to really understand. More than anywhere else it embodies the magic and mystique that is Big Sur. The guest cabin pictured below was staff housing when I worked there and after briefly living upstairs in the restaurant in a tiny closet of a space known as the Piano Room, I moved into the Castro Canyon cabin painted below. I had a large piece of marble outside the cabin that I would chip away at when I wasn’t serving pancakes to the guests. These are the first two paintings of the Deetjens series. </div>
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CASTRO CANYON by Barry Allen Howard </div>
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9”x12” oil on canvas</div>
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$150</div>
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For inquiries about this painting please email me at barryhowardstudio@yahoo.com</div>
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Thank you for following my blog!</div>
<br />BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-84638274114955710952019-12-16T11:47:00.000-08:002019-12-16T11:47:57.937-08:00THE PATH OF THE HEART and other questionable life choices...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Somebody's gotta do it...</div>
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The long dry summer finally gave way to winter rains. I am taking refuge in my tiny gypsy caravan. It is perched on a ledge high above the vast Pacific Ocean. The wood stove is burning cheerily, making it warm and cozy. New paintings are taking shape on the easel. I have coffee, food, beer, firewood, and lots of art supplies. I feel wealthy. The highway is very quiet due to the rains and scattered rockslides and road closures. Peaceful, but not especially good for my bank balance as I sell much of my work to the visitors passing through. I was warned about choosing this lifestyle. Didn't listen. Still don't. Romance of the artist's life and all that. But I know I am not alone as I have other artist friends who have to pull some magic out of a hat to make it through the winter. Somehow we survive to paint another day.</div>
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When there is a break in the storms and the sun comes out I pack the French easel into my trusty van, "Pacifico" and head down to the cliffs to do some painting "en plein air". On this particular morning, (see photo above) the world seemed washed clean by the recent rains and the sun felt especially good on my face. I soaked up as much of it as I could for I know more rains are coming. The painting below is the result of that morning on the cliffs. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwX7Ll1QSGmrlsfKcSWr1iic4zITKtVuXo5ytUdNe_FWy96eCk75K3iZ0v5s6F5wwzofWqsNZ7jfaCvWUyASrjQVIKkvHG_bN9sRo4ykRFhfl37nRaCluDtf7BOfzUCYexeIW_3Mf-bmz/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="1600" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwX7Ll1QSGmrlsfKcSWr1iic4zITKtVuXo5ytUdNe_FWy96eCk75K3iZ0v5s6F5wwzofWqsNZ7jfaCvWUyASrjQVIKkvHG_bN9sRo4ykRFhfl37nRaCluDtf7BOfzUCYexeIW_3Mf-bmz/s640/image.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A MORNING IN THE SUN by Barry Allen Howard</div>
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16"x20" oil on canvas</div>
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$300</div>
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For inquiries about this painting please email me at barryhowardstudio@yahoo.com</div>
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For the remainder of the year I am offering free shipping within the mainland U.S.</div>
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Thank you for following my blog! </div>
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<br />BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-19462141349751315382019-08-24T11:59:00.000-07:002019-08-26T07:32:14.399-07:00LIFE IN THE JEWELBOX<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyVLbLo-nP8lnQvUwjvN_gi9859vcnKA8hsm_8hGSjI5RhQ3IG9B1EPmay99A-4TVQwksuqeEOnSKWVQAwPmmBFIC4mwdZD-UA2bueI07nzr5Bm6fkxSHb2w88x9M5udBSytoWqikrJF1/s1600/20181014_162750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyVLbLo-nP8lnQvUwjvN_gi9859vcnKA8hsm_8hGSjI5RhQ3IG9B1EPmay99A-4TVQwksuqeEOnSKWVQAwPmmBFIC4mwdZD-UA2bueI07nzr5Bm6fkxSHb2w88x9M5udBSytoWqikrJF1/s640/20181014_162750.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Woke up to a beautiful Big Sur morning! As I enjoyed the view over coffee I realized that it has been almost a year that I have been living in the tiny gypsy caravan, not to be confused with the VERY tiny gypsy caravan, (shown below) that I pulled with my bike.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4j128uCr-GDJL5YYXWKKclhYdY3YCaMCr21Z_u9RsMN4YrBoSne9h94ELjnEa7p7kV2AEFwZy5_DKRA6w8E110PXBYLHGWWtXgXmZA2NrFq98fgOZrFvyWV1BMXMNqxxo6FfWQ7AyUrdr/s1600/Photo+Oct+21%252C+2013%252C+3%253A24+PM" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4j128uCr-GDJL5YYXWKKclhYdY3YCaMCr21Z_u9RsMN4YrBoSne9h94ELjnEa7p7kV2AEFwZy5_DKRA6w8E110PXBYLHGWWtXgXmZA2NrFq98fgOZrFvyWV1BMXMNqxxo6FfWQ7AyUrdr/s320/Photo+Oct+21%252C+2013%252C+3%253A24+PM" width="320" /></a></div>
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The tiny gypsy caravan that has been my home for the past year was given the name THE JEWEL BOX, by a neighbor. I thought it was appropriate. Living in it seems very much like living in a jewel box when the sun comes out.<br />
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It's pretty much an all-day light show inside...<br />
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Up here on the ridge, winters can be pretty rowdy with lots of wind and rain. <br />
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Overall the Jewel Box held up well...a few leaks in the corners but they were minor and I will have them taken care of before winter comes around again. I spent many days inside with the tiny woodstove cranked up keeping everything inside warm and dry while I worked on my small paintings at my easel.<br />
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So now summer is moving into fall. One year of living in the Jewel Box and I love it so much. Seems I am busier than ever these days...mostly painting my tiny oil paintings either here at home or, weather permitting, out along the Big Sur cliffs. As seems appropriate with my love of tiny living, I am focussed mostly on very small paintings on Gessobord, 5"x7" and 6"x6". So many things I love about working on tiny paintings...for one, I really enjoy how the paint works on the surface of the Gessobord. It has a very fine tooth and is excellent for small details. I also like the fact that I can complete them fairly quickly as it allows me to try lots of different things in a rather short amount of time. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WATERFALL by Barry Allen Howard<br />
6"x6" oil on Gessobord<br />
SOLD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MAGICAL NIGHT by Barry Allen Howard<br />
5"x7" oil on Gessobord<br />
SOLD</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Iqy1iqNQobIo2NPW7epoYY5IyTumxQsy7kbbjEgC6vXqfvco7myOPZlRPlrdgbZgzqB7r7C0Y-c2BKApwgZL_EnaRQZ_70KULvtT0RSw99P0N95Z3MG-NV5fRK6P-riG8sm4LqaFO94L/s1600/IMG_0737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1171" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Iqy1iqNQobIo2NPW7epoYY5IyTumxQsy7kbbjEgC6vXqfvco7myOPZlRPlrdgbZgzqB7r7C0Y-c2BKApwgZL_EnaRQZ_70KULvtT0RSw99P0N95Z3MG-NV5fRK6P-riG8sm4LqaFO94L/s320/IMG_0737.JPG" width="234" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">miniature paintings in progress</td></tr>
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And the whole idea of it appeals to my basically nomadic nature...I could carry an entire art show around in a fanny pack. I have just ordered some frames for the small paintings and plan to work on some framed three panel sets. Stay tuned....I will be posting more on this in the not too distant future! </div>
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Thank You for following my blog!</div>
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<br />BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-65538814626263416002019-06-22T18:19:00.000-07:002019-06-22T18:19:04.760-07:00FLYING DREAMS <div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FLYING DREAMS by Barry Allen Howard. Sold</td></tr>
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I have been a busy fellow lately, setting up my new website, dusting the cobwebs off of my blog and my Facebook page and getting back into the virtual world after a long hiatus. I have been living up on a ridge in Big Sur in my tiny gypsy caravan and painting a lot of new pieces. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpy5MRcCow2i6zROUa7mLKeHysGxz337EbKmLcJY0M9TUVmDE6e_RkJtO2cd1bmrzfRosFsDE7PGmLCZ_K7Eut2pMeC7AQCrZqqWcUX_Heot-Qeq4dNvyQ4Xaj2FVc-CdQ2a_pC787exPx/s1600/CF03B628-67C9-46DD-AFA4-D48FADAAAEC2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1597" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpy5MRcCow2i6zROUa7mLKeHysGxz337EbKmLcJY0M9TUVmDE6e_RkJtO2cd1bmrzfRosFsDE7PGmLCZ_K7Eut2pMeC7AQCrZqqWcUX_Heot-Qeq4dNvyQ4Xaj2FVc-CdQ2a_pC787exPx/s320/CF03B628-67C9-46DD-AFA4-D48FADAAAEC2.jpeg" width="319" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THE JEWEL BOX, my tiny home and art studio </td></tr>
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As I now have internet that is more or less reliable I will be posting my newest Hot Off the Easel paintings as well as stories and updates on my tiny life in the gypsy caravan. </div>
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You are invited to check out my new website here: </div>
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<a href="https://www.dailypaintworks.com/Artists/barry-howard-2756">https://www.dailypaintworks.com/Artists/barry-howard-2756</a></div>
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where I will be posting my new work. If you would like my blog posts to come straight to you mailbox please subscribe. </div>
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It was a wild winter up here on the ridge with lots of rain and high winds. As you can see in the picture I had to chain the caravan to the ground to keep it from blowing away. Summer has finally come and I haven’t had to fire up the wood stove for a while now. I am painting lots of new stuff and will be posting them regularly. Thank you for visiting my blog and my new website!</div>
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BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-67352736033851712262018-02-18T19:45:00.001-08:002019-06-22T15:19:41.505-07:00FALLING IN LOVE WITH OIL PAINTING ALL OVER AGAIN...<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJCtZvwUyhmuX7RB5iYVuKHnbESMlpOjGpto16aaus4caUAO8jYUg0UKr19HrNGp_nphyHHbYYhb-m1nxZ9nvaeg3pVXoy2bdqKl0EiRLMS3G_thIWBQk_Vi1W9kENGmApEwlSHG8wqwXT/s640/blogger-image-1408531211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="513" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJCtZvwUyhmuX7RB5iYVuKHnbESMlpOjGpto16aaus4caUAO8jYUg0UKr19HrNGp_nphyHHbYYhb-m1nxZ9nvaeg3pVXoy2bdqKl0EiRLMS3G_thIWBQk_Vi1W9kENGmApEwlSHG8wqwXT/s640/blogger-image-1408531211.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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MORNING GLORY by Barry Allen Howard 16"x20" oil on canvas $320</div>
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As I wrote in my previous post, I am taking a short break from working on the caravan to do some oil painting. This weekend I completed MORNING GLORY. I began this painting when I was in Bisbee before I came out here to the woods of northern Michigan. I actually thought it was finished at the time, it's been on my wall for a while and, as is sometimes the case, as I looked at it over time, I realized it wasn't done at all. So this was my first project getting back to the easel. I gotta say, after such a long time away from brushes and paints I fell back in love with the process all over again. </div>
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Working on this painting was a purely blissful experience! While I painted, Jesse was out in the shop working on the third stained glass panel for the bay window of our gypsy caravan. It's coming along nicely. </div>
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The painting is available and proceeds will go toward funding the completion of our caravan project.</div>
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Thank you for sharing the journey! </div>
BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-80506641522391728142018-02-12T08:38:00.001-08:002019-06-22T15:56:43.082-07:00WHAT JESSE AND I BUILT<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
T<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTajTProUlCdK2-D44nG69Rrv_CCMtvmicLN1gLj81eKCwf6EuLE23dCGh8z6FGF2iSdk97EGjlUwSUsAjmwlDrPvB-no76DHCN-nBBs_A2sY7KGBpSOhYh-Tl_rlD_tX7wUImibs3tQKz/s640/blogger-image-1539563859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTajTProUlCdK2-D44nG69Rrv_CCMtvmicLN1gLj81eKCwf6EuLE23dCGh8z6FGF2iSdk97EGjlUwSUsAjmwlDrPvB-no76DHCN-nBBs_A2sY7KGBpSOhYh-Tl_rlD_tX7wUImibs3tQKz/s640/blogger-image-1539563859.jpg" /></a></div>
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It feels like I've been in the witness protection program. In July I drove up into the woods of northern Michigan where my son Jesse lives with his wife Jamie and their cat Gypsy. There is no cell phone service or wifi either. To get online I have to go three towns over, so I haven't been on facebook for a long time. I have mostly been in the garage.<br />
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The plan was for Jesse and I to build teardrop the trailers but the plan evolved. Actually it had a life of its own and it kinda got away from us. Jesse and I decided that we wanted to build something with a bit more room than a teardrop trailer. We also wanted to include more cool features than a teardrop could accommodate. So we finally settled on a tiny gypsy caravan. </div>
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Since July Jesse and I have put a ridiculous amount of hours into this and it's still not done.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZuuLKvR0PkqdB6hiORuedSvFI2UWuJ969eIIU039NRM5mmK5loepUAD-S5wcfxzVmjDoBBTv4_d6V9NDcGJ4AC4f2YbgA4bwZ0-qgGty-M7dDnJENa32h2DDTjXfqNoSGq7EZ50GN9eM/s640/blogger-image--2089718348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZuuLKvR0PkqdB6hiORuedSvFI2UWuJ969eIIU039NRM5mmK5loepUAD-S5wcfxzVmjDoBBTv4_d6V9NDcGJ4AC4f2YbgA4bwZ0-qgGty-M7dDnJENa32h2DDTjXfqNoSGq7EZ50GN9eM/s640/blogger-image--2089718348.jpg" /></a>We wanted to create a space that was filled with light and color and coolness. So the following is a tour of our journey and some of the details.</div>
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we emptied out Jesse's garage, bought the best cheapo tools we could afford and started building workbenches. </div>
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Once the shop was together we bought a 5'x10' flatbed utility trailer and began designing.</div>
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The basic design was inspired by the Romani Gypsy vardos but we made no attempt to follow anything traditional as this was intended to be a modern gypsy caravan for modern gypsies.</div>
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We drew from many eclectic influences. The floor is solid American hickory. Each board is uniquely beautiful. </div>
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For the galley countertop we chose a small hand-painted sink and ordered a box of mixed hand-painted Mexican tiles. Neither of us had ever laid tiles before and it was a really fun new experience.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-bV9JpbfpWb2YgEFS7FUhUGDEoznfJPz1TKHg8-70Z8dpKZNKnfxVW3EhBD_CDms9Z4N-MZEsFL9UlsFs555_z8H57En_pqFqYzUDWrvYSIGHHyfe6WUh81EgBpjxFcKjskaENRuld4N/s640/blogger-image-1762391569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-bV9JpbfpWb2YgEFS7FUhUGDEoznfJPz1TKHg8-70Z8dpKZNKnfxVW3EhBD_CDms9Z4N-MZEsFL9UlsFs555_z8H57En_pqFqYzUDWrvYSIGHHyfe6WUh81EgBpjxFcKjskaENRuld4N/s640/blogger-image-1762391569.jpg" /></a></div>
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The roof isn't on yet in this photo. Some of the carving in the beams and braces is visible here. </div>
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Finished and grouted!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuGE3WhVzjB8vfv33-csvjFKQaKFiG7WlKD8JW5ebG7W4YIKmWk0kxfJTiBKoYfRHdBHTE6jTtw350DUvRRNn8zC9SZrVsaOq6n5j99vST9TsrtGRXzvgo_0sO2IZ2CNNPlNCWw7zDW7D/s640/blogger-image--530888560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuGE3WhVzjB8vfv33-csvjFKQaKFiG7WlKD8JW5ebG7W4YIKmWk0kxfJTiBKoYfRHdBHTE6jTtw350DUvRRNn8zC9SZrVsaOq6n5j99vST9TsrtGRXzvgo_0sO2IZ2CNNPlNCWw7zDW7D/s640/blogger-image--530888560.jpg" /></a></div>
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Still need to find a faucet and do the plumbing.</div>
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Once the walls were up we began work on the first stained glass window, an octagon next to the bed area. After cutting the 22 1/2 degree corners I glued it and clamped it together with a ratchet strap.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9Unx6xZtSudL4Vskq4HbpXCAQPpKLLxrvieE-eP40H73TSS0RctTUWEJoBTynUn-MpZIRJrw_eyEi-p32CAgLHwm7D15dYxSdUT2MeHcBUGFjVk49Lqu_INmUBNxLqCpiJWlwsmpr8iA/s640/blogger-image-74783893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9Unx6xZtSudL4Vskq4HbpXCAQPpKLLxrvieE-eP40H73TSS0RctTUWEJoBTynUn-MpZIRJrw_eyEi-p32CAgLHwm7D15dYxSdUT2MeHcBUGFjVk49Lqu_INmUBNxLqCpiJWlwsmpr8iA/s640/blogger-image-74783893.jpg" /></a></div>
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The wood frame was put in place and the the glasswork began. This is the completed star window as seen from inside.</div>
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The interior of the caravan is being left natural wood and the outside is painted for color, protection from the elements and ease of maintenance. All of the gingerbread and scrolly bits are handmade. Most of the decorative carving was done freehand with a router. The exception to this is the carved work on the door which was created with a router, a flex-shaft Dremel and tiny little machinists files.</div>
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The main panel on this side of the door is a Phoenix bird rising from the flames. All around the edges of the door are Asian style clouds, a sunrise along the bottom, and the moon and stars at the top. The door itself is an assymetrical design with a kind of Arabian temple shaped window. The door jamb trim is deeply router carved. </div>
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This shot shows most of the door. It isn't hung yet here, just held in place with temporary stops. </div>
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This next photo shows the free-form hammered copper backplate set with glass bits and the glass doorknob. The backplate is set with lots of little brass nails all around the edge.</div>
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Here is the door on the workbench as it's being carved. Across the bottom is the sunrise, with Asian style clouds climbing up the edge and the Phoenix in the center panel. The window hasn't been cut out here yet. </div>
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This shot shows the door turned over and my sketch for the dragon that will go in the main panel on the inside of the door.</div>
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Cypress trees being carved up one side. </div>
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The moon and stars along the top. When the carving was completed the door was stained a beautiful mahogany color called Jatoba. The door has weeks of work in it and there is still more to do. </div>
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This is the dragon side of the door, again encircled with asian style clouds and cypress trees. Next to the door is the beautiful little wood stove that we ordered from Canada. This is really a lovely little airtight stove with brass trim. It sits on a pedestal that holds a stack of the 7" "logs" that fit into the stove. On the sides are a complete set of miniature stove tools. the stove pipe is double-walled stainless steel. We can't wait to fire this thing up!</div>
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A view through the temple shaped window opening after being cut out of the door.</div>
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This is the glasswork on the workbench before wrapping the edge of each piece with copper foil and then soldering the whole thing together. I use little pieces of painters tape to hold everything in place to get it all fitting together right. </div>
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The finished glasswork for the door. Lots of bevels and various textured clears and a few sweeps of color. I suspect it's gonna be dazzling when the sun hits it. </div>
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The drawing below shows two of the four panels for the bay window. Somehow, I had it in my head that these would be relatively simple designs...but I was wrong....these four panels ended up having almost 500 pieces of glass total. Jesse and I worked on the first panel for 10 days to complete it.</div>
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Here the flowers and leaves of the first panel have been cut, grinded, and foiled.</div>
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The first panel for the bay window completed and held in with temporary stops.</div>
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Two done, two more to go! Seen from the inside, this is where the head of the bed will go. When the other two panels are finished it should be a glorious place to wake up in the morning!</div>
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The bay window as seen from the outside as it currently is. Also shown is the carved and painted sunrise mounted on the front. </div>
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We found these beautiful lamps in a second hand shop, so tarnished we couldn't tell if they were real brass or not. They are! Got em for $2.50 each! Polished them up and made stained glass flame panels to go inside We absolutely love them! We are going to make two more with the stained glass panels to go on each side of the door under the overhang. Inside is another one without the flamey parts, to light up the coffee bar area. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Below, Jesse painting under the eaves.</span></div>
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Night time in the shop...just the carraige lamp lit. I am looking forward to doing some decorative painting on those wheels and fenders.</div>
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We put a generous overhang above the door and made these filigree supports. In this photo the roof isn't finished and parts of it are still being held on with clamps.</div>
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Pardon the clip on light in the next photo. This shot shows the view from the bed area, (which isn't completed yet). It was important to us that one could sit up in bed and watch the fire in the wood stove. </div>
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This view is looking from the entryway toward the bed area. Part of the platform is there and we've put the curtains from my van in to simulate the curtains we don't have yet...but we have the tassels! Eventually the completed bed will be in with a nice place to sit up and read.</div>
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Much remains to be done on the inside of the caravan. We still have to finish the bed, build the shelving, a heat shield for behind the wood stove, and the stovepipe needs to be put through the roof. Also, plumbing for the sink,recessed lighting and wiring, enclose under the counter, and build the coffee bar cabinet for the cappuccino machine.</div>
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<br />BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-18597715624608974212017-05-19T08:39:00.000-07:002017-05-19T08:39:25.667-07:00FIRE IN THE SKY (a new series)
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<td style="text-align: center;"><img title="FIRE IN THE SKY" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMItwfN7kgvMs7sE8oV8CaLqV_CLYsQGnFQ6tlObCjn6FPCCD0I5dKhRTtQ7YOh3U0yjN70_6yAwc-m4b40HTSUFus5t7noNVG9sLMS67LVfk1dsGvsdXmmHrmrZbG-bCm00OIex3Gjam/" alt="" width="500" height="400" data-json="" /></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GARRAPATA SUNSET</td>
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FIRE IN THE SKY a new series. Many of the places I have lived have particularly dramatic sunsets and sunrises. When I lived in Key West in the early 70's the entire island would meet down at Old Mallory Square to watch the sunset, play music, and watch the dolphins who came to watch us. The sunsets there were unforgettable. New Mexico and Arizona are also famous, rightly so, for the spectacular pyrotechnic lightshows that mark the end of the day there. I've spent many years in both places and been awed by hundreds of such nightly displays. Whenever I travel through Tucson, I camp out in the hills outside of town. I often spend those evenings watching a glorious sunset as a backdrop to the saguaro cactus and the lights of Tucson below. Hawaii is another place I called home for many years, where rainbow filled days transform into gorgeous sunsets and sometimes, Moonbows.
<img title="FIRE IN THE SKY" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMM7bvqN7wefPfqgVU3ejBNRLmiFfS15QgmIQgCRRWaVBNt9yWfOMFxwfqbz43PIcKVKyw70hyjm2cjh6hfrsf95-ybQtMZSKXlSGrQXwlfW6sTZUbj9K3xN-7yAPSjPQXRfp2831mde_k/" alt="" width="500" height="406" data-json="" />
Big Sur, is another locale with impossibly beautiful sunsets. During the last supermoon eclipse, my neighbors who live on Clear Ridge, gathered at the top of the ridge to drink wine and watch the eclipse. The top of the ridge is just up behind my microhouse, so it was just a short hike up the hill to join the festivities. From the top, one has a 360 degree panoramic view of the Big Sur coast. It was absolutely ablaze on that night. The color changes and special effects seemed to go on for hours. It isn't really possible to set up an easel and paint it, it changes constantly anyway. Photos don't really quite capture the hugeness of it either...so I just turn on the "record" button in my head and watch...hoping to retain some of what I'm watching. When I get back to the easel I call back some of those impressions and attempt to bring them to life. It's a lot to work with and the challenge of capturing some of that magic on my easel is a never-ending journey. These 8"x10" paintings on canvas are the first of a new series which are my impressions of some of the dramatic skies I have witnessed. These original paintings are available for $60 each plus shipping. Please message me at barryhowardstudio@yahoo.com or on my Facebook page if you are interested. Thank you for following my work.
BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-53559852884104517302017-05-01T10:02:00.000-07:002017-05-01T10:02:18.435-07:00INTO THE DESERT
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<td style="text-align: center;"><img class=" aligncenter" title="Desert lands" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHSmAG4Jnfi83nzLyO5FvQnINsY7zdeSSEy_xerNaDvYHJfLXAWGVJNYD-hxRChu4clLboVky-RxXifQv-16wDfOoIIXB5ZCu22fgphI9khrYridAU5PP-dioMtO6LWm-A5N7-yQwV5mR_/" alt="" width="449" height="314" data-json="" /></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DESERT HIGHWAY 5"x7" oil on panel. SOLD</td>
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<p style="text-align: center;">Driving east on highway 10, I was still basking in the afterglow of my camp out in the chuckwalla mountains. I relaxed, played some guitar, soaked up the sun and got quite a bit of painting done as well. I worked on some of my miniatures, inspired by the rock formations, the desert vistas and the warm earth colors...</p>
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<td style="text-align: center;"><img title="Desertlands" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClVvpifByIcHcWIjncwaoG-M88ZqoWN8D5uQdzIPWuTDF3soWFmTWyNuACKA6hmlDUPI3FgJvc1iq4-HM9MoWG0um2xQsO4M1aD7YDMf3gDZJctl94fVXlPo1WB9cY02xa7vOFbmBMt8K/" alt="" width="452" height="316" data-json="" /></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">EVENING LIGHT 5"x7" oil on panel $30 plus shipping</td>
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<p style="text-align: center;">My next stop; El Dorado Hot Springs, a regular stop off of mine whenever I am traveling highway 10. I discovered the place by pure serendipity several years ago. I had been traveling through the heat of the desert summer and I was hot and dry and a cold beer sounded really good. I took an exit that advertised a gas station and a country style cafe. It seemed promising. The cafe wasn't open but I noticed a small wooden sign that said "Hot Springs" with an arrow so I decided a shower and a warm soak sounded like a decent substitute for a cold beer...a short way down the road I found a cool and funky place that featured a variety of tubs and pools, rooms and microhouses that could be rented as well as campsites. It is a great place to relax and refresh after a long drive through the desert. </p>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RED EARTH 5"x7" oil on panel $30 plus shipping</td>
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<p style="text-align: center;">While I was camping in the chuckwalla mountains I got in touch with a long-time friend who, as it happened, was heading west on highway 10 as I was heading east, so we agreed to meet at the hot springs and share a campsite. We had a great visit, shared some food and beers and next morning, fully refreshed, I went continued east and he went west. My next destination was Tucson to visit my sister. She had just bought a house there and I arrived in time to help move boxes and furniture. We had a great time catching up, and I was able to get some more painting done.</p>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DRIFTING AWAY 5"x7" oil on panel $30 plus shipping</td>
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<p style="text-align: center;">From Tucson I headed south toward the quirky little copper mining town of Bisbee. I lived in Bisbee briefly, several years ago, loved the place and have wanted to return ever since. So Bisbee here I come...</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">(The little paintings pictured were done on my trip from the coast to the desert. They are painted on artist grade gessoed Masonite. They come with a miniature display easel. They are available unless marked sold.)</p>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-28122976366233787782017-04-29T21:55:00.000-07:002017-04-29T21:55:09.478-07:00HIGHWAY 10 TO ARIZONA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 20px;"> As you remember last time...our hero, (that would be me...) had made his escape from the Armageddon-like devastation in Big Sur and was pointing his trusty minivan, Pacifico toward the arizona desert. After a few brief stops and an overnight stay at a rest area, I reached the Chuckwalla Mountains near the strange little town of Desert Center. I pulled off on a very sandy dirt road and drove until I found a beautiful, quiet place to camp out.</span></td>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 20px;">After a long nap in the warm, dry desert, I stepped outside, pulled out the guitar and played a little blues to nobody but the surrounding rocks , and to a very large ( judging by the footprints) cat of some type that I felt sure was napping somewhere in the shade nearby. Hope he likes the blues... </span></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;"> <video width="480" height="360" style="background-size: 32px; text-align: center;" controls="controls"><source src="https://www.flickr.com/photos/barryhowardstudio/34221758441/play/mobile/19ff1d5195/" type="video/mp4" />Your browser does not support the video tag.</video></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> CHUCKWALLA BLUES</p>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 20px;"> I camped out there for a few days, relaxing from the drive and doing some reorganizing in the van. On the way out I decided to check out Desert Center. I usually stop in at the little cafe there, (which is the only thing there that's still in operation, other than the post office.) I've always been kind of fascinated by the place. The last remnants of what was once a fairly thriving town. The cafe was closed this time with a note on the door saying building maintenance was going on, but I had my doubts...I saw no sign of any work being done and the note on the door looked old and faded...sad if it's the end of the line for the cafe...it was all that was left. I walked around and took some photos, then headed off toward the Arizona boarder.</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><img title="Desert Center" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGyD29nQcehfun_S1WqJ80RJAXrfpwZMGtAqUIdNXPdg9vkN3cRL3JmxNuT692q3MJe9Gqraj4-PlOozxckEpJ6Tay1bGrETf41slq0lgXGf1J0d3g2f29rijX8rToEkHFio-ZLLBZ9T8/" alt="" width="381" height="284" data-json="" /> <span style="font-size: 20px;">Next stop: El Dorado Hot Springs....</span></p>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-10751979532321746392017-04-28T11:48:00.000-07:002017-04-28T11:49:04.909-07:00GOLDEN MORNING by Barry Allen Howard
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 20px;">GOLDEN MORNING by Barry Allen Howard</span></td>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">I haven't written a blog post in quite awhile due to technical difficulties. Long story and not that interesting so I won't bore you with it. Anyway, after much work and head-scratching and a moderate amount of swearing, I think I may now be back in Blogger-World! At least I hope so...if you are reading this then it worked!</span>
<span style="font-size: 20px;"> So a long overdue update; </span>
<span style="font-size: 20px;">Last time I posted my blog I was living in a Microhouse I had built about 18 years ago. </span>
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<td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 20px;"><img class=" alignright" title="MICROHOUSE IN BIG SUR" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGfmupwWUWlju3f03C_8d9wbJDa9xadq1A6iB38Q69wRf9iJAO7HiCam6XDKc9E_Mv8bZBGQJRQMUAzVr3MHRpFxNkQrZPSn4noFT47vRmAm4aCU5IyuYlf2lqe2BBZoZfTESHrCd7U8eg/" alt="" width="538" height="401" data-json="" /></span></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 20px;">MICROHOUSE IN BIG SUR</span></td>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;"> </span>
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<span style="font-size: 20px;">I lived there on top of a ridge with a magnificent view of the Big Sur coast and painted my pictures of Big Sur and helped take care of my friend's llamas, alpacas and goats. I stayed for almost a year and a half and began to miss the freedom of living in my van, so.....from there I moved back into Pacifico, (my beloved minivan) and lived along the cliffs. My friend Jim let me park below his house on an unused fire road with access to a little shack/bathhouse that I converted to a little painting studio. It was a lovely spot where I could hear the waves at night and the coyotes in the morning. I would drive down to the cliffs in the mornings, set up my French easel, and sell my paintings out of my micro-van-gallery to the passing tourists. Life was good...and then came the fire that swept slowly buy surely through Big Sur, filling the air with smoke and ash and driving the tourists away. It lasted for two months and a thick fog came with it that lasted for 4 or 5 months, and no tourists stopped to admire the view because there wasn't one. My fortunes were diminishing. Then came the rains... Lots and lots of rain! The cliffs became saturated, my studio started growing mold and then came the mudslides. Highway one began to fall away in places and the cliffs slid down onto the highway in numerous places, closing off all traffic to the south. Then to the north the bridge started to sag and it was closed, cutting off all access from the north. Big Sur became an island. The highway was empty, phone service went out, the power went out, and many of the locals lost their water supply. There was no way to get rid of trash, people couldn't get propane, gas at the local station began to run low and along the highway it looked like the aftermath of natural disaster. Tourists staying at the local inns had to be helicoptered out. There was very little food available. Deetjen's, ( a much loved historic inn) suffered major damage with redwood trees destroying several buildings and a mudslide that buried several cars. </span>
<span style="font-size: 20px;"> Eventually the road crews were able to open a lane to the south for a few hours so locals who wanted to get out could make their escape. I was out of business in Big Sur for the foreseeable future so I headed out and pointed Pacifico toward the desert. </span>
<span style="font-size: 20px;">(To be continued).....</span>
BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-49816945178004609062015-10-26T14:28:00.000-07:002015-10-26T14:32:38.036-07:00MOONLIGHT SURF
<p> The ocean and the waves are as much a part of who I am as the blood that flows through my veins. I've surfed the waves and sailed with the swells and have spent countless hours walking beaches from Hawaii to the Carribean, from the Gulf states to the wild shorelines of Northern California. It always renews me and fills me with appreciation for being born on this planet, in this time, in this body.</p>
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<p> <span style="line-height: 1.3em; text-align: right;">Walking beaches at night is a whole other world. The crashing of the waves seems both quieter and louder at the same time...as though the sound is amplified by the silence of the night, but quickly sucked up into the depth of the darkness and vastness of the firmament. The Moon and stars provide the only light, but seem more luminous in the stillness. I have just completed these three small paintings as an offering of gratitude to Our Mother Ocean.</span></p>
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<p><span style="line-height: 1.3em; text-align: right;"><br></span></p>
<p> These paintings are 8"x10" oil on canvas. The edges are painted and they have a hanger on the back so they can be framed or are ready to hang as they are. I have signed them on the back. I am offering them for sale for $60 each or all three for $150. Please message me if you are interested at: barryhowardstudio@yahoo.com</p>
<p>Thank you for following my work.</p>
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<div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20">Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-80266204486426292712015-02-10T11:15:00.001-08:002015-02-10T12:23:11.552-08:00PAINTING THAT ELUSIVE SOMETHING...<p> I seem to have become obsessed with painting Big Sur...it's been this way for years. I find that even when I'm living somewhere else i am drawn back into painting it from memory. I finally decided the only thing to do was to just settle in here in this place that won't let me go, and fully immerse myself in it. Big Sur is a very long stretch of winding highway perched high above the ocean, and every turn in the road reveals another spectacular vista. It would be easy to just hold my hands out in those little "crop marks" that artists do to frame the composition and then take out my french easel and paint it...and that's what I've done many times...but it hasn't satisfied me. </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruymAWhKa_NnclgaccHKwmrVHsX_Km3VACl-o2ELhx-xhGRquypO2InQcy1sroxt6esSX8XMkPGZvh6wX6fbhOoQAuxXYIOOaJBeh_Dizlap88_eYTwYWSlWtxD1PIOwIVci51oFAle1e/s1551/Photo%25252020150210113351626.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: left; float: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruymAWhKa_NnclgaccHKwmrVHsX_Km3VACl-o2ELhx-xhGRquypO2InQcy1sroxt6esSX8XMkPGZvh6wX6fbhOoQAuxXYIOOaJBeh_Dizlap88_eYTwYWSlWtxD1PIOwIVci51oFAle1e/s578/Photo%25252020150210113351626.jpg" id="blogsy-1423599349252.9265" class="alignleft" alt="" width="578" height="573"></a>The view, as magnificent as it is, is only part of the story...only one aspect of the thing that keeps me pretty much mesmerized by the place....and I realized that I don't just want to paint the vista before my eyes....I want to somehow capture the feelings that I get from being here. You can see it in the faces of the tourists who come through for the first time. It's more than just, "Oh what a beautiful view!"....they become transfixed...it's almost a religious experience. Partly it's the scale of the place...it seems that you can see the curvature of the Earth from these cliffs. The ocean seems bigger than anywhere I've ever been and one could spend the day just watching the light show as the sun reflects off the water, lighting up the mist around the base of the cliffs as it climbs and receeds and flows over the hills like a sentient being. It's a very big place, and standing on the edge of the cliffs, looking down at the turquoise and lapis-blue water can give you a feeling of vertigo. It's these feelings that I want to be able to express with paint on canvas. It's more than just painting a picture...it's finding my way into the ebb and flow of all the elements around me. It's an elusive quest and each little success keeps me hungry for more. At times, when I find that flow and it's working, I feel like I'm literally soaring....it's an ecstatic state and it is the thing that keeps me working to improve my skills so that I can share these experiences ever more clearly and powerfully.</td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RHAPSODY 24"x24" oil on canvas, $1200</td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-76890870454832623392015-01-13T15:37:00.001-08:002015-01-13T15:37:37.864-08:00OR MAYBE THEY'RE JUST SOAP BUBBLES....<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWXltAnb_T6PsqTm9eqYY9kZwVCsH3JwgGf6uOIDbqjBLfMlH1PiNJ-DictHwJCp1iCkEZE-M4qU8X6D76baFpZxKp5-8KJLmJlFFbM01RXkI16bByZLmYYdQ6jXjgSRzrpDEhstGhXoP/s2048/Photo%25252020150113153633632.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWXltAnb_T6PsqTm9eqYY9kZwVCsH3JwgGf6uOIDbqjBLfMlH1PiNJ-DictHwJCp1iCkEZE-M4qU8X6D76baFpZxKp5-8KJLmJlFFbM01RXkI16bByZLmYYdQ6jXjgSRzrpDEhstGhXoP/s500/Photo%25252020150113153633632.jpg" id="blogsy-1421192253241.6921" class="aligncenter" width="631" height="499" alt=""></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SERENITY oil on canvas by Barry Howard SOLD</td></tr></tbody></table><p> For many years, these bubble-like spheres have shown up in some of my paintings and people often ask what they represent....I try to have an answer because I want to be helpful but in reality I wish they wouldn't ask. To me, one of the best things about art is that it means different things to different people. Each person brings their own perception to it and gives it a meaning that is personal to them. At times I have painted, say, a landscape of the town of Mendocino, for example, and someone will see it and say, " oh look, that looks just like that place we went to in Cape Cod..." or wherever, and they buy it because it represents something meaningful to them....doesn't matter that it wasn't Cape Cod that I painted...and if I insist that it isn't Cape Cod it simply steals the significance of the image from them. So I would rather just leave the meaning of those bubble-like spheres open to interpretation. </p><p> Having said that though, they do have a significance to me. They represent other worlds that exist within this world...because there are such worlds going on...we just don't know it because we don't have the receptors to percieve them. We tend to think of reality as a very definite, fixed thing....it's not. We humans only come equipped with a limited abiltity to recieve information. Take, for example, the electro-magnetic spectrum...we only detect, with our limited senses, a small range known as the visible light spectrum, when in reality there is infrared, ultra-violet, micro-waves, all kinds of stuff going on but we don't know it, because we can't see it....so to us, it's not part of our reality. Other creatures have different receptors...butterflies and hummingbirds see a whole world of color that we don't....dogs hear sounds that we can't hear and dolphins and whales percieve sonar and can pick up on the blood flowing through our bodies. Reality looks much different to them....IS much different to them. Our own reality is only a partial picture constructed from limited and incomplete information....like putting together a jig-saw puzzle with half the pieces missing...you still get a picture, just not an accurate one. All you get is a partial representation of reality. But we humans are very insistent that reality is what we can see and hear. We say, "Seeing is believing..." we tell people to "face reality." All of our senses tell us that this boulder we are sitting on is solid and unmoving, when actually we know it is in constant motion and is made up of mostly empty space. It looks the way it does because of where we are sitting...our point of view...if we could pull back far enough to look at our own galaxy it would look solid and unmoving too. We would be completely unaware of all the stars burning and exploding, planets zooming around them, people sitting down to tea on those planets as they zoom around, and discussing things like our limited abiltiy to percieve reality. From our hypothetical distant vantage point we would swear that we were looking at a fixed, lifeless solid lump of rock. From our distant vantage point we wouldn't exist. The farther away we get from things the more they slow down and appear fixed in time and space. If you have ever looked down at a line of breaking waves from the window of an airplane you will notice that they don't seem to be moving. Like telephone poles whizzing by the window of your car ten feet away...put those telephone poles a mile away and they seem to move by very slowly. It's all a matter of perspective. Perspective changes both time and space. Reality conforms to our perspective. Reality is very fluid and malleable. Reality is what we believe it is...and we're mostly wrong. So those bubble-like spheres help remind me not to take my own interpretation of reality too seriously.</p><p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-39284396550591531782014-12-30T08:59:00.000-08:002014-12-30T08:59:27.847-08:00THE MOONSTONE<span style="font-size: large;">Thanksgiving Day</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I followed the winding dirt path that wound it's way down the steep cliff face to the ocean. Many of the paths along these ridges of land are precarious....a misstep can lead to a quick trip to the bottom. The sun had spilled over the ridges hours earlier, warming the rocks, transmuting the cold of the night that was stored in them, into the warmth of the day. I finally reached the beach, removed my shoes, left them by a large boulder and began to walk the empty strand. It wasn't a sandy beach, but one made up of small grey pebbles warmed now by the sun and smoothed round by endless cycles of wind and waves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I walked i relished the feel of my bare feet sinking into them. The pebbles felt like some exotic accupressure treatment to my soles. I walked on, and the crashing waves washing up on the beach provided a musical score to my footsteps. White water running up the steep beach, grabbing hold of the small grey pebbles in its fingers and tumbling them back down, continuing the process of smoothing, sorting, refining the stones, turning them slowly into sand. The uniform greyness of the pebbles was somehow comforting in it's sameness...like a subdued backdrop for whatever anyone would like to add to it. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Up ahead something caught my eye. A bright flash of light in the field of grey. A piece of glass maybe? As I approached the small object it seemed to dance as it caught the sunlight. Bursts of light in reds and blues and yellows sparkled and drew me in. I leaned down and picked up the object...seeing that it wasn't a piece of glass at all, but a perfect, beautiful Moonstone lying there among these ordinary pebbles. I held it in my hand, feeling the smooth velvety surface and marveling at its clarity. The small round stone seemed to hold within it an entire world of light and color and beauty. It was a beauty that was never static but always changing and moving. As I turned it in the sunlight, different facets that I hadn't seen before would become illuminated, capturing my attention. It was much like watching the waves break on the beach, or the flames of a fire...I felt as though I could gaze at it forever and never see the exact same thing twice. There was always something new there, always another perspective that I hadn't noticed before. I had truly never seen anything like it. It was exquisitely beautiful. I looked back down at the beach to see if there were any more like it...there must be, I thought....so I walked along, scouring the entire landscape of small grey stones looking for another....I never found one. This one Moonstone was entirely unique...a gift in it's singularity. I thought about taking it home, putting it on the windowsill where it would catch the morning sunlight...but somehow it didn't seem right. It belonged here in the open, warmed by the sun and washed in the sea...and left so that some other fortunate wanderer might discover this jewel and delight in its magic.</span><br />
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BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-11054376634952768512014-12-28T09:21:00.001-08:002014-12-28T09:21:01.166-08:00PAINTING BIG SUR....<p> I have obviously taken a long break from writing...I have needed time to shift gears into a new lifestyle after selling the micro-gypsy caravan. It has a wonderful new home with two delighful people who love her. She has been spruced up and redecorated to be even more gypsy-like, and is a happy caravan. I cherished every moment I lived in her, knowing it wasn't forever and appreciating it all the more. She is in very good hands.</p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZ3YtZdH_3dJPg2KO7Br4yIMBC4PtAD6c807QtKP7414s1mRlkuU4BZfgNRuKme1rv1xSg5pH9QapEkjYE4-5Fq4Wqh0vJrm-OlXK_QHwUBf4sGvosNKogunll5wolSWB4lqXuK8-M2PU/s960/Photo%25252020141228091631287.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: right; float: right; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZ3YtZdH_3dJPg2KO7Br4yIMBC4PtAD6c807QtKP7414s1mRlkuU4BZfgNRuKme1rv1xSg5pH9QapEkjYE4-5Fq4Wqh0vJrm-OlXK_QHwUBf4sGvosNKogunll5wolSWB4lqXuK8-M2PU/s500/Photo%25252020141228091631287.jpg" id="blogsy-1419787260137.1902" class="alignright" alt="" width="417" height="313"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The redecorated micro-gypsy caravan</td></tr></tbody></table><p> In the time since then there have been many changes and events in my life. I've spent most of the time on a beautiful piece of property in Big Sur. I met a wonderful new friend, Annie Mahoney, who passed away shortly after we met. My friend Rose and I took her to the emergency room late one night. She never came back. Annie was one of the most delightful people I have ever met. I knew, from the first day that I had made a friend for life. Her passing was completely unexpected an knocked the wind out of all of us here who loved her. </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAR16z2oVEmgkZsmYwqxpddtpFDV1fmARSjrVbDKZJGBGrNOT97bi4Y2xRVIhJvfqJNYkzSz9HbXdf7uPLM8fko5SwsyQPC50k8pRHMdHgvY5LZHj3ubAn-9b62nbAbXEB9Z7tH6VMPZk/s2048/Photo%25252020141228091631612.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: left; float: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAR16z2oVEmgkZsmYwqxpddtpFDV1fmARSjrVbDKZJGBGrNOT97bi4Y2xRVIhJvfqJNYkzSz9HbXdf7uPLM8fko5SwsyQPC50k8pRHMdHgvY5LZHj3ubAn-9b62nbAbXEB9Z7tH6VMPZk/s500/Photo%25252020141228091631612.jpg" id="blogsy-1419787260188.3767" class="alignleft" width="398" height="318" alt=""></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My studio on the cliffs</td></tr></tbody></table><p> Plans for my own life have changed since I've been here. I've wanted nothing so much as to paint the dramatic scenes that are Big Sur...the place that has been more home to me than anywhere. So I have decided to settle in here in this place that keeps pulling me back. I bought a small van, outfitted it for camping and painting and have just gotten my easel and oil paints out again. Through Thanksgiving and Christmas there have been some of the most perfect days here on the cliffs that I've ever seen. Painting here has been pure bliss. </p><p>I'm very excited about this next chapter of life. I'm looking forward to seeing what transpires on my easel and also to living in this awesome landscape that lies along coast route one....and I'm happy to get back to writing about the things that inspire me. I hope, dear reader, that you will continue to follow along as I explore with my paintbox, this unique landscape.</p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXtZ9a0C0iRgpFIgyHXM14JHketvLFYCtSwJ2MUsGdaD8c7ZfW4k7L4QoCr6KmOm1WsfKVgrhyaGfwLdCLq82kubpVmuQ_J4UWWCZ-DHwBUIT3xpCNOcshUvm-QgRp0m413UIu9lMQw2a/s2048/Photo%25252020141228091631782.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: right; float: right; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXtZ9a0C0iRgpFIgyHXM14JHketvLFYCtSwJ2MUsGdaD8c7ZfW4k7L4QoCr6KmOm1WsfKVgrhyaGfwLdCLq82kubpVmuQ_J4UWWCZ-DHwBUIT3xpCNOcshUvm-QgRp0m413UIu9lMQw2a/s500/Photo%25252020141228091631782.jpg" id="blogsy-1419787260183.5042" class="alignright" width="417" height="206" alt=""></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Morning 12x24 oil on canvas</td></tr></tbody></table><p> Thank you for being here.</p><p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-9780294112078858152014-08-17T17:37:00.001-07:002014-08-17T17:37:41.253-07:00FOR SALE!!! MICRO-GYPSY CARAVAN AND BICYCLE
<p> As I mentioned in a previous post, my time in the Gypsy Caravan is coming to a close. It's been over a year that l have been living, working and traveling in this tiny nomadic home. I have dearly loved it and will remember these times with great fondness. Now, I have made the decision to sell the caravan to finance my next chapter, my move to Bisbee. So, anyone interested please read the ad, or pass it along to anyone you think may be interested. </p>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQ61yhXWE5wdyYYhk7vUMN2TFbZ1Grt0wmImsP_UeP3NIWZf3cVvxoHjHoOChr_sd8pZ2QuWE4GcuSO7kIuKeLXx4-1T777IWJUZJUZ12qUL7gJKl2dKML2thCyDCo7WZ_iUGW2XhACxH/s2048/Photo%25252020140817173557.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQ61yhXWE5wdyYYhk7vUMN2TFbZ1Grt0wmImsP_UeP3NIWZf3cVvxoHjHoOChr_sd8pZ2QuWE4GcuSO7kIuKeLXx4-1T777IWJUZJUZ12qUL7gJKl2dKML2thCyDCo7WZ_iUGW2XhACxH/s500/Photo%25252020140817173557.jpg" id="blogsy-1408322258428.477" class="alignleft" alt="" width="500" height="373"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQ61yhXWE5wdyYYhk7vUMN2TFbZ1Grt0wmImsP_UeP3NIWZf3cVvxoHjHoOChr_sd8pZ2QuWE4GcuSO7kIuKeLXx4-1T777IWJUZJUZ12qUL7gJKl2dKML2thCyDCo7WZ_iUGW2XhACxH/s2048/Photo%25252020140817173557.jpg" target="_blank" style="line-height: 1.3em; clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; display: inline !important;"><span style="line-height: 1.3em; text-align: right; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">FOR SALE ! HAND CRAFTED MICRO GYPSY CARAVAN AND BICYCLE</span></a>
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<p>A tiny home, studio, or craft kiosk that can be pulled by a bicycle, this beautiful little vardo was designed and built by artist/craftsman Barry Howard. It is the culmination of a lifetime of experience designing and building little nomadic homes. It is easy to tow behind a bicycle and very stable. It features a bed that is approximately 26" wide by 5' 10" long. The mat folds in sections and below is a storage area that is 22" wide by the length of the caravan and 10 inches high. The storage beneath the bed keeps the center of gravity low providing stability. The small windows in the roof provide light and a sense of space above. Aft is a galley area with a propane stove. There is a small removable table which can be used for meals or computer work. It also attaches outside at the rear of the caravan to make a work surface for craftwork or for an easel for painting. A folding stool hangs on the front as seating for the outdoor work area. The caravan features an awning that rolls up when not in use. It provides shade and directs rain away from the caravan. Also included is a large shade umbrella which attaches to the caravan, for the outdoor work area. Other features include:</p>
<p>CANDLE LANTERN </p>
<p><span style="line-height: 1.3em; text-align: right;">LED LIGHTS INTERIOR AND EXTERIOR</span></p>
<p>HAND-PRESSURIZED PORTABLE SHOWER</p>
<p>STORAGE NET</p>
<p>RETRACTABLE STABILIZER LEGS</p>
<p>STAINED GLASS WINDOW</p>
<p>FABRIC WALL COVERING</p>
<p>NEW PAINT, TOP OF THE LINE SIGN-PAINTERS ENAMEL</p>
<p>20" WHEELS</p>
<p>QUICK RELEASE HITCH</p>
<p>COPPER PIPE ROOF RACK</p>
<p>ROLL DOWN SHADES</p>
<p>LIGHTWEIGHT WOOD CONSTRUCTION</p>
<p>REINFORCED ALUMINUM TUBING FOR THE CHASSIS FRAME</p>
<p>DESIGNED TO FOLD DOWN TO BED-LEVEL IF DESIRED</p>
<p>VINTAGE COCA-COLA BOTTLE OPENER</p>
<p> </p>
<p>COMES WITH:<br></p>
<p>ONE SIX PACK OF PACIFICO BEER</p>
<p>TWO SHOT GLASSES</p>
<p>ONE BOTTLE OF EL JIMADOR 100% AGAVE REPOSADO TEQUILA</p>
<p>ONE BAG OF FRESH LIMES</p>
<p>ONE SHAKER OF SALT</p>
<p>ONE LIGHTWEIGHT TRAVEL HAMMOCK WITH STUFF BAG</p>
<p>INCLUDES : 26" VINTAGE GARY FISHER 21 SPEED MOUNTAIN BIKE WITH HYPER LOW GEAR, NEW REAR CLUSTER, CABLES, AND CHAIN. OLD, SIMPLE, SOLID BIKE. POWDER-COATED CROMOLY STEEL</p>
<p> TWO CABLE LOCKS<br></p>
<p>TIRE PUMP </p>
<p> </p>
<p>WATER BOTTLE AND CAGE</p>
<p> </p>
<p>MIRROR </p>
<p> </p>
<p>LED HEADLIGHT & TAIL LIGHT</p>
<p> CENTER STAND</p>
<p>TOOL KIT: SCREW DRIVERS, WRENCHES, SOCKET AND RATCHET, PLIERS, ADJUSTABLE WRENCH, TIRE PATCH KIT, CHAIN LUBE<br></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The price for this little human-powered home-studio is $5000. If interested please contact Barry at 530-355-1319 or barryhowardstudio@yahoo.com</p>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OUTDOOR PAINTING STUDIO</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-50687586713779213472014-05-27T19:18:00.001-07:002014-05-27T19:18:36.767-07:00LIFE ON THE FRINGES<p> I have lived most of my adult life as a fringe dweller. I wasn't really aquainted with the term or really aware that that was what I was doing until I was well into my 30's. I knew the life I was living was different than most, but my awareness of the fact that I was living on the fringes of society was something that came along gradually. At some point, I embraced it. I realized that I was most happy there. There are many reasons for choosing to live this way. In one way, it's a tool for dealing with a world that doesn't make much sense. </p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUtUQZ8Fr9rV0s8aMx5DFnhsodapHKEuBdRP5rwJnAFlZwu7x3-oAv-tocaLrolx_Nvwf1kYKACwvfqc5b38_8Jcb0mMGPwib4Us5Ma_UfEt6vMj4vi1CpygWOjjYvrddkvYu4fEJvG_A/s1990/Photo%252520May%25252021%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525209%25253A28%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: right; float: right; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUtUQZ8Fr9rV0s8aMx5DFnhsodapHKEuBdRP5rwJnAFlZwu7x3-oAv-tocaLrolx_Nvwf1kYKACwvfqc5b38_8Jcb0mMGPwib4Us5Ma_UfEt6vMj4vi1CpygWOjjYvrddkvYu4fEJvG_A/s500/Photo%252520May%25252021%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525209%25253A28%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1401243514186.7803" class="alignright" alt="" width="500" height="247"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SOLITUDE by Barry Howard</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p> <span style="line-height: 1.3em;">When I think about Human kind, the Crown of Creation, and the potential world that could have been created, and compare that with the real world that we live in...with buildings that sit empty while people live on the street...food that gets thrown away as people go hungry...more people on the planet than it can comfortably support while people live their lives in loneliness...unimaginable technological abilities that get turned toward destroying one another and our own environment as well...then living on the fringe is a way to move through life with a sense of perspective. Maybe I'm just too sensitive. Some can dive in up to their elbows and get involved in trying to fix things, unravel the madness, make it all make sense, but when I've dipped my toes into being an activist I find that it tends to make me an angry person. Whatever strength of character one needs to try to bring about change, I don't seem to have it. The best I can do is to use my energy to try to bring some beauty into the world. To spotlight the part of the world that is good and clean and inspiring. It's all I can do and still maintain my own inner peace and happiness. So I paint my paintings and build my little Nomadic dwellings and feel grateful that these things seem to make people smile.</span></p>
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<p> <span style="line-height: 1.3em;">As I look back, I lived on the fringe even as a kid. I always felt like I was watching things from the edges, not really as a participant. It's how I made it through school too. In a way, I feel like I am indeed, only a visitor on this planet. It's an interesting planet, but the inhabitants are batshit crazy for the most part. Especially the ones who seem to be in charge. Living on the fringe seems very compatible to being somewhat of a loner as well. I do like people. I like them quite a lot....but in limited doses. I spend about 90 percent of my time alone. I am not suggesting that this is necessarily good. I really kind of envy people who are outgoing and gregarious, who have tons of friends. But time alone is somehow necessary for me to feel I am in balance. When I am with people, I usually enjoy it, but it's a very outward experience. I have designed a life where most of it is lived from a very inner experience. When I am just with myself, not involved in conversation, there is a natural process that goes on in my head. I am more aware of my thoughts and I spend more time looking at the life I am living and thinking about where I want to go from here. I spend a lot of time thinking about art and how I want to evolve my work. I spend a lot of time thinking about my micro-dwellings and doing a sort of ongoing design process that I keep filed away in my head. Living so much in my head has strengthened certain parts of my brain, especially the part that thinks visually. Lots of people have asked me if they could get plans for my micro gypsy caravan and I have to tell them that , alas, there are no plans. I visualized the caravan in my head, then visualized each design detail in my head as I went along. I've always built this way. It's harder for me to draw plans first. In a few instances I've had to, in order to show them to a client, but it's something I would just as soon skip.</span></p>
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<p><span style="line-height: 1.3em;">There are whole libraries of places in my head with drawings and plans and expanded detail drawings and they are always there, waiting for me when I need them. I don't know how many other people work this way, but I assume most people don't. People often seemed surprised when I say I don't draw any plans for my work and I think maybe I don't need to because I have spent so much of my time alone with my thoughts. I have a studio in my head...it's a very comfortable and interesting place to hang out. It's a place where I can work on my projects, examine my life, and explore things that intrigue me. When I go out and spend time with friends, (which is pretty rare,) as much as I might enjoy the interaction, there is always a part of me that is impatient to get back to my quiet inner sanctum.</span><br>
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<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-38431268694054558152014-05-21T19:06:00.001-07:002014-05-21T19:15:00.402-07:00THE STORY OF GUSSome years ago I was living in New Mexico in the little artist colony town of Taos, where Easy Rider was filmed and where Dennis Hopper called home for a while. I rented a tiny art studio, upstairs among 8 or so other artist studios.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corner of Taos Plaza, artist studios upstairs</td></tr>
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<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">A few of us lived in our studios, covertly, outfitting them with dorm-sized refridgerators and sleeping on the floor. There was myself, and a former Russian ballerina who defected, joined the San Francisco Ballet, retired from dancing and became a still-life painter, and a gay dude named Rodney who was an impressionist . Next door to my studio lived a crusty, hygienically-challenged old drunk with no front teeth, named Gus who also happened to be the best painter I ever met. He was my next-studio neighbor. It always seemed odd to me that he was an artist...he seemed more like he would have been a tow-truck driver or a rancher. There was a very open, friendly vibe to the place. We were always dropping over, visiting one another, borrowing paint when one of us was low, sharing a beer or a tequila shot and commenting on each other's current work. It was very honest...especially Gus. He was old-school and didn't offer any empty compliments. If he liked something, you knew you had something good, and if he didn't he had no problem telling you it was lousy. Gus had been some hot shot illustrator in Chicago years before and made the big bucks. Use to fly to Alcapulco to play golf. Illustrated for some major magazines back in the day. He had a wife and family and big house and cars and one day he just walked away from everything. Said he couldn't take the pressure anymore. He ended up in Taos and rented the studio next to mine. Built an easel out of old two-by-fours with a bare light bulb over head. Had a ratty old blanket and an even rattier old foam pad that he slept on. There was an old TV in the corner that only the bottom half of the picture worked, that was always on. He had one of those dorm-sized refridgerators but didn't use it and warned people not to open it. To add to the general ambiance, he had randomly distributed old, half-empty cans of Spam with plastic forks stuck into...whatever the contents had evolved into. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">There were piles of Beer cans everywhere....really cheap beer...the kind that is $1. 89 a six pack. The floor was covered in cigarette butts and ashes. Gus would would start his day with a styrofoam cup of coffee he got from McDonald's and a cigarette and a six pack of the cheap beer. Then he would sit in his folding metal chair and pick up a canvas that he had already painted over 15 or 20 times and begin to work. Gus didn't have much of a social life...just us, mostly and he was always happy when someone dropped over. He would tell you to shove the books off the other folding chair and have a seat...offer you a beer and talk to you while he painted. His brushes were mostly shit...he bought them at the grocery store and they came 6 to a pack, variety of sizes, with brightly colored all plastic handles for $1. 69 a pack. They were made by Crayola. Didn't matter. Gus could paint with a stick if that was all that was available. I would sit, talk with him, drink one of his crappy beers and watch him paint. He had no method...employed no tricks...he began by what he called "hacking". "Hacking" involved taking paint and just sort of sticking it on the canvas in what seemed to be a random approach. No drawing there yet...just sort of finding his way into something. Then, gradually, the most amazing image would begin to appear. He would use very rough brushwork, put down light, shadow, shape it, move it, and something absolutely beautiful would emerge from this non-teqhnique. At some point, he would put in a rough drawing with his brush and continue to bring the painting to life. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">He painted old missions, horses, a young girl holding a bucket, a clipper ship, indians, a still life, a portrait. By noon there was always something exceptional on the canvas. He would chat, smoke, drink his beer...beer cans piling up on the floor. Around noon he would have finished the six-pack and would walk over to Ralph's to buy the second one for the afternoon session. Come back and keep working...open another beer, light another camel, and keep working. Once into his second six-pack, things would begin to go downhill. He got a little more careless, his colors becoming muddy, convinced that it didn't matter because he was getting to something. We, who were watching, would silently watch something exquisite turn into a grey, sloppy piece of crap. Gus, by then well into his second six-pack, was convinced he had a masterpiece. He loved the thing. Next morning he would be starting all over, having painted the whole previous day's work out. "What happened Gus? I thought you loved it?"</span><br />
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"I did," he would reply, "but I was fucking drunk"...so he would start again, undaunted. We use to joke that he should sell his paintings by the pound, they got so thick. I was amazed that this whole process, which was pretty much repeated every day, didn't discourage him...but it didn't. Gus just loved to paint...the outcome didn't seem to matter to him all that much. It was more painful for the rest of us to watch than it seemed to be for him. Countless masterpieces came and went, lost forever in a haze of cheap beer. We use to say, if you could get one of his paintings off the easel before noon you would have something exceptional. Occassionally, someone would do it...just grab the thing away as he began to get too drunk and put a new canvas up on his easel before he could protest too much. In general though, his paintings usually didn't get finished...they just kept changing into something else. There was one gallery that would periodically have a show of his work...and somehow, he would manage to actually finish a dozen or so of the canvasses leaning up against the walls in his studio. The show would always sell out right away because people who knew art, knew how good he was. But that was rare. It always seemed like a miracle that he was able to actually complete enough for a show. Gus was a true friend...he was intelligent, had a heart of gold and would give you the shirt off his back...(you wouldn't want it, but still, he would give it to you if you did.) He was a no-bullshit, straight up, what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy. He was the most loyal friend a person could have. He had no phone or address and when I moved away from Taos I lost track of him. I think of him often and over the years I realized how much I learned from watching him paint. His approach was absolute honesty...no flashy tricks or techniques...nothing intelletual or conceptual...just incredibly good painting from someone who knew what he was doing and wanted nothing more than to keep doing it. I really miss him sometimes. <br />
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BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-29731696867567081382014-05-17T20:55:00.001-07:002014-05-18T16:43:20.731-07:00BARRY HOWARD: PROFESSIONAL BEACH BUM...<p> When faced with the necessity to claim an occupation, I have always written "artist" in the space provided. As of late, however, I have realized that, perhaps, I should come out of the proverbial closet and own up to my true vocation....that of Professional Beach Bum. In truth, it is what I have always aspired to...and the responsibility for this career choice can rightfully be placed at my older sister's doorstep. When we were little, (my sister being not quite as little as I), we use to go to the drive-in movies. Mom would drive us there in the family 1956 Buick Century. It was a big treat. There was a playground underneath the big screen that we could play at before the movie started, then go to the snackbar and get Cokes and popcorn, hang the little speaker inside the car window and watch the movie. My sister seemed to be the unofficial designated movie chooser. Probably a good thing since I was too young to have any strong opinions on the subject. So, deferring to my older sibling's guidance, I saw every Elvis Presley movie made, and every Beach Party movie as well. It was the Beach Party movies with former Mouseketeer Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon, that impressed upon my young, malleable mind that there was an amazing world out there made of sun and sand and surfboards being waxed to the driving beat of conga drums and Dick Dale's percussive guitar rhthyms. </p>
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<p> <span style="line-height: 1.3em;">Having spent my youth in the flat, hot, land-locked town of Fresno, the lifestyle portrayed on the big screen in front of our big blue Buick seemed like Shangri-la to me. I wanted nothing more than to escape the spirit-crushing boredom of my hometown and live a life of waves and woodies and girls dancing in bikinis. Alas, that would have to wait a few years, as I was too young to move out on my own...so I endured the time by reading Surfer Magazine and drawing pictures of waves and surfers and dreaming of the day I could make my escape. Fate smiled on me when the telephone company transferred my mom to Los Gatos, a mere 30 miles from the Northern California surfing capitol of Santa Cruz. I began to ditch school as much as possible and hitchhike over the hill to the beach. When I turned 17, I moved out on my own to the coast. Since then I have spent the biggest chunks of my life surfing, sailing, and walking beaches from the island of Maui to the Florida coast. I have shuffled my feet through the sand from Key West to Puerto Rico and Jamaiica. And I have lived and camped along the endless beaches of the Northern California coast.</span></p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVRSkKMiA9CD1AcxNBiY2Ep1uZ8rJQKtGi3UwDCbVkLaKsD1a17WLfU0aB8SsZqNTIFGqi6bqU1eSY-JwJ2kE9tf_4bYBIk5a54O5GHj3T3KrSRqly0_5HDyMAg7uWqtyHQNHYp79k9ST/s604/Photo%252520Feb%25252024%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525206%25253A58%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: right; float: right; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVRSkKMiA9CD1AcxNBiY2Ep1uZ8rJQKtGi3UwDCbVkLaKsD1a17WLfU0aB8SsZqNTIFGqi6bqU1eSY-JwJ2kE9tf_4bYBIk5a54O5GHj3T3KrSRqly0_5HDyMAg7uWqtyHQNHYp79k9ST/s500/Photo%252520Feb%25252024%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525206%25253A58%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1400385737403.1687" class="alignright" alt="" width="325" height="244"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bohemia, my trimaran at anchor</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p><span style="line-height: 1.3em;">Later on, I took up sailing and let my feet dangle off the outer hull into the water as I sailed my trimaran along the Florida coast. Miles of white sand beaches drifted slowly by while I layed in the nets between the hulls and sipped on a cold Pacifico. Of course, I found that it really wasn't very much like the Beach Party movies portrayed it to be, but that really doesn't matter in the end. Life on the beach is different than the Hollywood version but no less wonderful.</span><br>
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<p><span style="line-height: 1.3em;">To this day, nothing makes me happier than walking barefoot on the sand, letting the tide race up around my feet and watching the waves curl and break as they end their journey across the Pacific. I evolved from drawing pictures of waves to painting them in oils. Had things been different in my childhood, perhaps I would have taken a different path...maybe I would be a corporate executive, but instead, I'm a Professional Beach Bum, and it's all my sister's fault. There is, perhaps a certain stigma of irresponsibilty associated with my chosen lifestyle, and maybe that comes from the "Bum" portion of the term...but most beach bums do some sort of work. I actually work 5 or 6 days a week....just not anything most people would call a "real job". Nobody considers being an artist a real job. Even I don't consider it a real job....but then, I never wanted a real job. All I ever really wanted was enough to pay for my simple needs and get to spend a good part of my time at the beach. Well, that's worked out pretty well, as I now work and live and sleep at the beach. My childhood dream has been made manifest.....I am a Professional Beach Bum...life is good! The moral here is, don't be afraid to reach for your goals....no matter how lofty....</span><br>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXAe4U_2aRIL8VpFqB_4jBUznihv2xEpBAv6jrd5b3JoIxCbC6eTvKLapkSHJ2yVCJyeCA3hZXpilXIVhKBDe8Bf91EQtKGAAHGjfSYXVH3LuXYEyvPa9OoqAChRLlJmhJ0YFqiEGtlaat/s1600/Photo%252520May%2525206%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A11%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXAe4U_2aRIL8VpFqB_4jBUznihv2xEpBAv6jrd5b3JoIxCbC6eTvKLapkSHJ2yVCJyeCA3hZXpilXIVhKBDe8Bf91EQtKGAAHGjfSYXVH3LuXYEyvPa9OoqAChRLlJmhJ0YFqiEGtlaat/s500/Photo%252520May%2525206%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A11%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1400385737432.9492" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="300" height="450"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My studio on the beach</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-27182740889904935022014-05-09T21:03:00.001-07:002014-05-11T17:44:59.505-07:00WET INTO WET...<p> I am going to take this opportunity today to wax rapturous about the pure bliss of working with oil paint. When I lived in New Mexico I learned that they have an official state question, which is: "Red or Green?" It's what they ask you when you go out to eat there and it refers to what kind of chili concoction you want on your food. Among artists and art lovers, there is a commonly asked unofficial question which is: "Oil or Acrylic?" I am asked that question on a daily basis here at the Venice Beachwalk art show. </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihA_4IvQC_4wViD0xJ7VDpjaLxxe4JDE8cxRApHulx4cA101zJk0mAQ6V7YvR0yXMjhyud-NHxgcGAv5DNaLF1wka2s0IDVx_8HIHQkw4uYponxzejvxzy7TNFA1U6DaA0uBqBV3HEN8GU/s596/Photo%252520May%2525208%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525206%25253A44%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihA_4IvQC_4wViD0xJ7VDpjaLxxe4JDE8cxRApHulx4cA101zJk0mAQ6V7YvR0yXMjhyud-NHxgcGAv5DNaLF1wka2s0IDVx_8HIHQkw4uYponxzejvxzy7TNFA1U6DaA0uBqBV3HEN8GU/s500/Photo%252520May%2525208%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525206%25253A44%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1399694588512.1663" class="alignright" alt="" width="338" height="293"></a></div>
<p> <span style="line-height: 1.3em;">People usually act surprised when I say I work in oils...I guess because the majority of painters work in Acrylics these days. I use to use Acrylics myself, many years ago and was always a bit frustrated by them. They dry so quickly that there is almost no time to work with the paint. You end up with layers of paint that are, for the most part, separate from each other. Oils, on the other hand, stay wet and give you time to move them around, blend them together or wipe parts away. Often times people will say they would love to work in oils but they don't have the room....I usually just smile and point out the fact that I live and work in a 12 square foot home/studio. Granted, it helps if you are a naturally tidy and organized person. If you are one of those artists who sling paint around like Silly String at a Spring Break keg party and you end up with it all over yourself then yeh, maybe working with oils in a small space wouldn't work for you. Fortunately for me, I am one of those aforementioned naturally tidy and organized artists. I do my best to keep track of where the wet paint is so I don't end up spreading it all over everything I own. Once I finish working on a painting for the day, it goes into a pizza box where it lives until it is dry. I've mentioned in other posts that I use a medium called Liquin in my paint. It mixes with the oil paint right on the palette and has a number of wonderful qualities, one of which is that it makes the paint dry overnight. I have all day to work with the paint and blend and move it and don't have to wait weeks for it to dry. </span></p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlXeDnMlrer_Ewo-dITWsEv1pMt-oytOuA5wFhSn1gyxxrSWYUwH6yEB7AoIlomZFgPVuiNCiMwpY-GinWTzpDt3mfjeyVtdZeofTb6CfyJPCWefcEES7z7G1Q8zU9iJzoPbMbMhTTQQk/s1464/Photo%252520May%2525209%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525202%25253A37%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: left; float: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlXeDnMlrer_Ewo-dITWsEv1pMt-oytOuA5wFhSn1gyxxrSWYUwH6yEB7AoIlomZFgPVuiNCiMwpY-GinWTzpDt3mfjeyVtdZeofTb6CfyJPCWefcEES7z7G1Q8zU9iJzoPbMbMhTTQQk/s500/Photo%252520May%2525209%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525202%25253A37%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1399694588585.693" class="alignleft" alt="" width="312" height="373"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LIQUIN with salt & lime</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p><span style="line-height: 1.3em;">The Windsor & Newton Company, which makes Liquin, doesn't pay me to promote it, but they should, considering how much I encourage other painters to try it. It also works as a glazing medium, making colors more transparent the more you mix in. It enhances color and leaves a very tough surface after it dries. Blending color is a wonderful advantage over acrylic but I think what I like best about working in oils is working wet into wet. When you pull your brush from one color into another color, the color and value of the stroke changes as you go, creating a whole spectrum of spontaneous variation. With acrylics your brush stroke is going to be pretty much whatever color you have on your brush and that's all. Where's the magic in that? Interesting paintings are very much about subtle variations and spontaneous and unplanned results. Although in fact the results are not completely unplanned, as you more or less know what will happen, but there are subtleties you will be delightfully surprised by.</span><br>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0GY6WHMPn3irqmFD0bXG5Mw_k9IP1byu2_DqpASERwtbLYpbzY6CQ6IWOgg3uEpR0QUPfmRcOChZnxUY3I4N5KS0iHHtPVH4swDTo5e_fXdyD5Fd_x-_rpMvm9jElwovTZQ2I2GLK5GY/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252016%25252C%2525202014%25252C%25252011%25253A49%252520AM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0GY6WHMPn3irqmFD0bXG5Mw_k9IP1byu2_DqpASERwtbLYpbzY6CQ6IWOgg3uEpR0QUPfmRcOChZnxUY3I4N5KS0iHHtPVH4swDTo5e_fXdyD5Fd_x-_rpMvm9jElwovTZQ2I2GLK5GY/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252016%25252C%2525202014%25252C%25252011%25253A49%252520AM.jpg" id="blogsy-1399694588585.3286" class="" alt="" width="500" height="248"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RAVEN by Barry Howard</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p> And then there is that somewhat intangible aspect to oil paint vs. acrylic...and that is the indescribable and subtle difference in the look of the paint itself. Not to get too New-Agey but there is something about oil paint that can't adequately be expressed through verbal description...it's like the moment when a rainbow falls across your eye, infusing the world with color...it's like the whisper of dragonfly wings on your cheek...the fragrance of Gardinia on a tropical moonlit night....like being kissed on the forehead by the lips of the Goddess.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MuTt59V7jkywmMD3nMmmqr3M15ofGhAJ83HfahJBkn4aW_y-m2Jw2wyHscUkB1TuOnZFmUZrufrxeBmINIltxs5Bj9xxz08YTaJbqVveAj9VHBztN66O202B-ZQpNt0nHSUPgL6phzBd/s2048/Photo%252520May%2525208%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525205%25253A12%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MuTt59V7jkywmMD3nMmmqr3M15ofGhAJ83HfahJBkn4aW_y-m2Jw2wyHscUkB1TuOnZFmUZrufrxeBmINIltxs5Bj9xxz08YTaJbqVveAj9VHBztN66O202B-ZQpNt0nHSUPgL6phzBd/s500/Photo%252520May%2525208%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525205%25253A12%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1399694588551.7246" class="" width="300" height="251" alt=""></a></div>
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<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-11414505624656201142014-05-06T15:16:00.001-07:002014-05-06T15:16:30.786-07:00SWEET DREAMZ AND CRASHING WAVES<p> Lately I have been parking the caravan down along the beach at night. The sound of waves crashing on the beach is the soundtrack to my dreams. It's hard to imagine a more peaceful place to sleep. Summer is definitely drawing near with warm nights and warm, even a few hot days now. The mornings have been so beautiful lately that I have even started my day, (after coffee of course,) with a swim in the ocean. It always leaves me feeling exhilarated and blissfully alive. </p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cjNv_tRw-0Z9bDghvXLKW1FiJ12e-9tnKw5VAlGe6gAskRExrKhjsjtK0xZyKwY2s25DoFD78Nn_hWIhjLxTbIstnit91NgnC-PPIuF-TXD2AbGy82A7Gi5ZuGK99CKSoPwN2Lf0STgB/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%25252029%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A04%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: right; float: right; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cjNv_tRw-0Z9bDghvXLKW1FiJ12e-9tnKw5VAlGe6gAskRExrKhjsjtK0xZyKwY2s25DoFD78Nn_hWIhjLxTbIstnit91NgnC-PPIuF-TXD2AbGy82A7Gi5ZuGK99CKSoPwN2Lf0STgB/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252029%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A04%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1399414591296.97" class="alignright" alt="" width="500" height="246"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WINDOW ROCK by Barry Howard</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p> <span style="line-height: 1.3em;">My days and weeks have settled into a routine of sorts here in Venice...after the sun comes up and breakfast is done I roll down to my spot on the boardwalk and set up my paintings and my easel and spend the early part of the day working on new pieces. I am really enjoying these small paintings. I usually finish two or three a day and put them in the drying box, (which is really a pizza box, but hey, it works perfectly). I always look forward to opening the box the next day and seeing what I did with a fresh eye. I am told by the other artists that soon the tourists will come and sales will pick up....as it is, it seems I have survived the long, moderate winter of Southern California.</span></p>
<p> In the evening, after the art show on the boardwalk, I pedal down to my favorite tree and make my dinner, have a beer and maybe read for awhile. Then I head over to the cafe on Pier St. to do my computer stuff over a pot of peppermint tea. Finally I roll on back to the beach for the night. Weekends are a bit rowdier than the rest of the week. Tonight as I write this, the Doors cover band is in full swing at the nearby bar, and the party people have left the beach and are now being raucous and drunk along the beachwalk. Down the beach there are fireworks going off...probably to celebrate Cinch de Mayo. Myself, I am quietly settled into the caravan, happy to have a refuge from the roudiness of the weekend circus that is Venice Beach. </p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Cms3MXFGbIjTXtL1F2qax0v4BubW9gFnHqN8a5hrxdBOHlAmAXRXFLZfiNBkrGs8AJVKymOv3y3MuLZ_nSqj42nF5O-BWotKh9VEJTHs_C_P9WcycGkewrOHxbhK-dru_tZhqbRUjSQE/s1954/Photo%252520Apr%25252015%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525204%25253A37%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=""><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Cms3MXFGbIjTXtL1F2qax0v4BubW9gFnHqN8a5hrxdBOHlAmAXRXFLZfiNBkrGs8AJVKymOv3y3MuLZ_nSqj42nF5O-BWotKh9VEJTHs_C_P9WcycGkewrOHxbhK-dru_tZhqbRUjSQE/s500/Photo%252520Apr%25252015%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525204%25253A37%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1399414591318.2766" class="alignnone" alt="" width="500" height="244"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NIGHTWAVES by Barry Howard</td></tr></tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCOe9cUeJ9LEQV08fXhSmhygr_xfKnDQ9ZECtdvpqbm6mH9K7FYUgijcZsLwhI6jVpOoG52toGhitwXkZsnm6qwPmsFhypZ_tF0nbn1XPAVwKo6-LvyRVjCOJDLSnJdG1wVuS26OaP1J3/s1600/Photo%252520May%2525206%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A09%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKCOe9cUeJ9LEQV08fXhSmhygr_xfKnDQ9ZECtdvpqbm6mH9K7FYUgijcZsLwhI6jVpOoG52toGhitwXkZsnm6qwPmsFhypZ_tF0nbn1XPAVwKo6-LvyRVjCOJDLSnJdG1wVuS26OaP1J3/s500/Photo%252520May%2525206%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A09%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1399414591239.6348" class="" width="500" height="333" alt=""></a></div>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-15680552322777748002014-04-27T15:37:00.001-07:002014-04-27T16:00:14.567-07:00GYPSY CARAVANS, RIGHT LIVELIHOOD AND WARM BEER<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">It's been almost ten months since I first moved into the caravan so it seemed like a good time to report in on how the experiment is going. I am somewhat surprised to report that I actually am enjoying it more now than when I started. I expected that by this time the 12 square feet would begin to feel pretty small...instead it feels bigger. I thought that living without refrigeration would be burdensome but am surprised to find what an easy adjustment it's been. Many things that Americans refrigerate simply don't need to be.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">And I've discovered that the Brits have it right....beer loses much of it's flavor when it's refrigerated...especially dark beer. I actually now prefer to drink my beer at room temperature. Maybe that famous American beer that is so popular with bikers for some inexplicable reason, (I shall call it Buttwiper Beer....or Butt Light), maybe it's better cold, but that's because cold is all it has going for it...it would taste like warm piss if it wasn't served cold...but any decent beer seems to have a fuller flavor palette when it's room temperature.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeuAkeM_yiK7P7yIPQK83occ7HjXMzP7Sk6ZqE_QFBIckiORLDQTV6uvTW5noXJK1UHRwFqLZIP5NcUaY1sLJPZuEYBwEi3iVyyw_mo31Li5y72-dGH99Y2gzwbljOyf_nq0NaHOWZtwI/s1734/Photo%252520Aug%25252021%25252C%2525202013%25252C%25252012%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignleft" height="313" id="blogsy-1398639533710.7703" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeuAkeM_yiK7P7yIPQK83occ7HjXMzP7Sk6ZqE_QFBIckiORLDQTV6uvTW5noXJK1UHRwFqLZIP5NcUaY1sLJPZuEYBwEi3iVyyw_mo31Li5y72-dGH99Y2gzwbljOyf_nq0NaHOWZtwI/s500/Photo%252520Aug%25252021%25252C%2525202013%25252C%25252012%25253A51%252520PM.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">But I digress...the point is, after living and working out of the caravan for ten months, I am feeling it is a pretty full lifestyle. I know I won't live this way forever...no lifestyle is forever for me...but it is a period of time that I will always remember with great fondness.</span><br />
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Recently, my sister asked me to write something about my own definition of success for a blog she is writing. I decided to include what I wrote in this blog post, as it has a lot to do with my current micro-lifestyle and the things I have learned from living in such a simple and basic way. The following is what I wrote.<br />
REDEFINING SUCCESS <span style="line-height: 1.3em;"> </span><br />
Life seemed so simple back in the 50's, and the idea of personal success was pretty straightforward; you stay in school, go to college, get a degree and get a good job with a good company and then begin your steady climb up the ladder...buy a house, a nice car, have a family and take a couple of vacations every year. After a lifetime of this one could enjoy a comfortable retirement. It was the American Dream and it actually did exist. Maybe it still does exist in a few isolated little pockets, but overall, the American landscape has changed dramatically. Getting a job with a big company is no longer a guaranteed lifetime mealticket for security and an ever increasing standard of living. Many mammoth companies have gone the way of the Mammoth, vanishing without a trace. Jobs have been automated and outsourced and people who thought they had security are suddenly wondering what they will do now. Back in the 50's we didn't need so many of the things that we now regard as necessities...we didn't need I-phones and I-pads and cable bills so we could have 100 channels. As a culture we have become convinced that we need a new car every few years, thereby keeping ourselves in a never-ending pattern of never-ending car payments. Everything has become disposable where we use to keep things and get them fixed when they broke. Rent or house payments didn't eat up the lion's share of one's income back in the 50's. Paychecks were smaller but they went a lot further. A college education didn't leave a young person saddled with a lifetime of crushing debt. One person with just about any kind of job could support a family...now both members of the family work, and it's a struggle even then. This is what's known as a bygone era and it ain't comin' back. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JI8H_o4NJ-ftcYmdXPS9Z_nkjVhuWbsSg2I4Dx-C51bQ9a0BzNTx-QyPSas2fgJ_Ik7zAVhkjAu56ov59yDjan5ajcIxz2KWxjuzRMbV5hNbB11XwcpccxDPsP_lah2oHPpJCRjDCLFJ/s320/Photo%252520Jun%25252020%25252C%2525202013%25252C%2525209%25253A03%252520PM.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="alignright" height="240" id="blogsy-1398639533709.8245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JI8H_o4NJ-ftcYmdXPS9Z_nkjVhuWbsSg2I4Dx-C51bQ9a0BzNTx-QyPSas2fgJ_Ik7zAVhkjAu56ov59yDjan5ajcIxz2KWxjuzRMbV5hNbB11XwcpccxDPsP_lah2oHPpJCRjDCLFJ/s320/Photo%252520Jun%25252020%25252C%2525202013%25252C%2525209%25253A03%252520PM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">So if the old model for success is becoming increasingly elusive, then we need to re-evaluate the path we take and maybe redefine success. So what is it? One of the problems is the word itself..."success" is a noun, which makes it seem like a thing one attains and then you "have" it. But in reality, success is more of a verb. It's a moving target and it's different for everyone. Some people might define success as a life that is filled with adventure and travel, or a life that is dedicated to making positive changes in the world. For others, success might not be such a lofty goal...maybe it's just being a good partner, a good parent, and having good friends. It's that thing that will allow you, at the end of your life, to look back and feel that it was a life well-lived. I recently read somewhere that when Bob Dylan was asked to define success he said that success is when a man wakes up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between he does what he wants. For me personally, that defines it pretty well. It's about having the freedom to choose how you will spend your day, rather than having someone else decide that for you. But that's just me...others may be willing to trade daily autonomy for a larger goal, and that's fine. The point is, success is a very individual thing and what's important is that we design a life that is in harmony with our own personal definition of what success means. I meet people everyday who are reevaluating their lifestyles.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">I think they are drawn to me because I am living a rather unconventional life that is very much in the public eye. I live in a 3 foot by 6 foot micro-gypsy caravan which I pull with my bicycle and out of which I paint and sell my paintings as I travel along the way. I don't have a house, or a car, or a TV. I live without electricity, running water or refrigeration. When most people come to realize how I am living, and that I seem pretty happy, it seems to make them question how much they really need to be happy. Very few would choose to downsize to the degree that I have, but my lifestyle definitely blows a hole in the idea that one needs lots of stuff and a big house to be happy. My own definition of success includes lots of time to paint the things I love to paint, and the time and means to travel, and the freedom to choose how to live each day. It means being able to support myself by doing my art, and in today's art market, this is a challenge, but it's a challenge I'm up for because it fits my own definition of success.</span><br />
The current ever-changing economic playing field has spawned the growing interest in the tiny house movement. People are downsizing and unplugging and simplifying their lifestyles to allow for a greater freedom to live a life that makes more sense than just being a mouse on the wheel. Part of the silver lining to the economic cloud is that more and more people are giving up on the idea of getting a good job and are instead becoming entrepreneurs. I think this is a great trend, as it allows people much more freedom to design their lives to fit their own definition of success. Choosing to be self-employed is the only real security one has these days. You aren't going to lay yourself off or outsource your own job, and if the economic landscape changes you have the freedom to adapt to it without losing your livelihood. This goes hand in hand with simplifying your life. The more one has to carry, financially, the more precarious and burdensome your life becomes. <br />
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<span style="line-height: 1.3em;">Simplicity buys freedom to do more of the things with your money that you want to do. It can be pretty discouraging to make a decent income and watch it all disappear every month on "necessities" that may not really be necessities at all. Someone once said that you can have anything you want...you just can't have everything you want. It's all about choosing...do you want time to smell the roses, or do you want more stuff? Do you want to be able to spend quality time with your friends and family or is a bigger house and more expensive car worth more to you? There is no right answer...life is, as they say, what you make it.</span><br />
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BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-29332964458890841222014-04-09T19:41:00.001-07:002014-04-09T19:41:32.330-07:00MICRO PAINTINGS on Daily Paint Works<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepe9U9btoSE-THpMweyq7awkD3_GDKjoLR941SXFHOseuTUztNSZxsxlMVCJqqOXb7EDHzeG9v5W8ova6IMV_sDevJBQwZIPbaX3KWoFagw6n6iRZwOm8IfY1IMRlPuZXALyVAWtHDd34/s2048/Photo%252520Apr%2525209%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A45%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style="clear: left; float: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepe9U9btoSE-THpMweyq7awkD3_GDKjoLR941SXFHOseuTUztNSZxsxlMVCJqqOXb7EDHzeG9v5W8ova6IMV_sDevJBQwZIPbaX3KWoFagw6n6iRZwOm8IfY1IMRlPuZXALyVAWtHDd34/s500/Photo%252520Apr%2525209%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525203%25253A45%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1397097684356.5415" class="alignleft" alt="" width="500" height="270"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Back Bay © Barry Howard</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">With this post I am announcing my return to the wonderful daily painting gallery and website, Daily Paint Works. I had an online gallery there last year and ended up closing it down for awhile because I wasn't painting quite daily enough. Lately though, I am cranking out paintings by the bushel....well, maybe not quite by the bushel, but I am painting a lot. I've mostly been doing very small ones, like 6"x6" or so, and painting two or three a day. This has been a really good way for me to explore a lot of different methods and ideas in a short amount of time. I feel that I am growing as a painter as a result, because I don't have a lot of time invested in each one, and it's making my brushwork a bit freer and allowing me to experiment more. At the end of a week of painting, I look over what I've done and see what has worked and what hasn't. It's been like a crash course in a way....anyhow, it feels exhilarating. Please click the Daily Paint Works widget in the right hand corner of the blog and check out my gallery there. Some of them I am putting in the auctions they run, so it's a chance to get some nice artwork at pretty good prices. Thank you for taking the time to look at my work. </span></p>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHJJDZAueInpFStXyDyKEbT-g3eCZuiOi_6TnXFG5DM0ZnLORvpAB3t5IiuTHKemq7rkCNAsJzUDIGsGSIlfh9zlSnIcmbIzHMaXhtODYYHYNCT8vKU_xAVTd8FoAC_fLv2L8gs1gq3Pl/s1405/Photo%252520Mar%25252027%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525201%25253A29%252520PM.jpg" target="_blank" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHJJDZAueInpFStXyDyKEbT-g3eCZuiOi_6TnXFG5DM0ZnLORvpAB3t5IiuTHKemq7rkCNAsJzUDIGsGSIlfh9zlSnIcmbIzHMaXhtODYYHYNCT8vKU_xAVTd8FoAC_fLv2L8gs1gq3Pl/s500/Photo%252520Mar%25252027%25252C%2525202014%25252C%2525201%25253A29%252520PM.jpg" id="blogsy-1397097684345.379" class="" width="300" height="294" alt=""></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BEACH BREAK © Barry Howard</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7030893734354633928.post-22410749018588864112013-12-13T10:47:00.001-08:002013-12-13T10:47:14.999-08:00WINTER COMES TO SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA<p>It's 2 AM...what am I doing up writing this blog? I shall get to that in a minute, but first I must apologize for being a bit lax in my blog posts lately...it's the cold...I may have mentioned this before but I really don't like the cold...I am a Sun Worshipper. Cold weather makes my circulation slow to a crawl, my nose runs, my eyes water and my fingers curl up into pathetic claw-like appendages that seem to be grasping desperately for warmth. Winter has hit Southern California like the Grim Reaper, sweeping over the beaches and covering all forms of life in ice....well, OK, maybe not ice..there is no actual ice, but it IS cold with daytime temperatures barely getting out of the low 60's sometimes with a windchill and nighttime temps plunging into the 40's, or as they would say in Seattle, beautiful balmy weather. But as I may have mentioned before, Seattle-ites are all crazy and the proof of that is that they live up there in the frozen tundra where people have to hack through the frozen ice to hunt for seals and then use clamshell scraping tools to carve out the seal blubber to put in their latte's. I know this because my friend Ethan told me all about it and he lives up there...well, he told me about the Latte's anyway...he didn't mention the seal blubber and stuff but I think he was just trying to put a good face on things. So putting the warped perspective of Washington residents aside, it's freakin cold. People here are wrapping scarves around their necks and wearing coats!...AND hats! Which brings me to why I am up at 2AM writing this blog. We are fast approaching the shortest day of the year, which is one of those things that people here in Southern California often point out. It is a way of being optimistic about the brutal conditions we are trying to endure here. Soon the days will begin to lengthen and Spring will be in sight. It's how we hang on through the cold, dark days of the season. We know there will be an end to it. But the night comes on early...like by 4:30 in the afternoon the light of the day is starting to fade and my life here in the caravan, without electricity has adjusted to the cycles of dark and light rather than the artificial rhythms that electric light allow. After my work day ends I usually hang out at the local coffee house until dark and then, braving the biting chill of the night, I pedal off to my parking spot. I turn on my burner and warm the place up and then usually climb into bed by 8 o'clock. Six hours later it's 2AM and I'm awake. I recently read how they have uncovered some old writings from the nineteenth century that refer to a "first sleep" and a "second sleep". Apparently, back then before electricity, when people had to watch TV by candlelight and laptops ran on kerosene, people slept twice in one night. That was the common thing. They would go to sleep with the sun, sleep 6 hours or so, then wake up and do stuff for a couple of hours, and then go back for their "second sleep". There are a lot of hours of darkness to fill when you run by the sun and stars. So that seems to be what my body has naturally adapted to. So here I am, writing this blog. </p>
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<p> I've made a number of changes in the caravan since I first headed out on the road about 4 months ago, when it was warm, (sniff, sniff). When I sensed the coming winter I set about doing a few things to make it more cozy. Firstly, I got rid of the little pump up white gas stove that had to be used outdoors and installed a propane burner inside. This has been AWESOME! It allows me to sit up in bed and make coffee without the hassle of getting dressed and going outside and setting up the side table and pumping up the stove, etc. Plus it uses way less fuel than the white gas stove did and burns a lot cleaner. Another improvement I made was adding a pull out awning to the Starboard side and a storm cover for the windows on the Port side. The awning has been also awesome as it keeps the rain and dew well away from the little roll down shade that serves as my door. </p>
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<p> So when it rains I can actually have the shade rolled up, stay inside and make soup and watch the rain drip off the end of the awning. My most recent addition has been the flower pot heater. I saw this online and decided it was the perfect heating solution for my tiny space. The way it works is you take a small bread pan, put four or five of those little tea-lite candles in it, and invert a 6 inch clay flower pot over the candles, resting on the edges of the bread pan. It will burn for about 4 or 5 hours and does a great job taking the chill out of the air, and you can simply light it and go to bed without worrying about it. I decided to build it into the galley counter so it would take less space. When it's not in use I put a cutting board over it. It would work even better if my caravan wasn't so open air, but at the moment there is no shortage of ventilation. When I want to really heat it up quickly I put the flower pot on the propane burner and turn it on as low as it will go...the flower pot heats up and radiates a lot of heat, even after the burner is turned off. It's made life much more comfortable now that the Winter weather has arrived. We are finally getting a break though. This week is promising temps up into the 70's, and, while it's not the 80's, I can deal with it. Well, I think it's time for my "second sleep" now. It's 3:36 and time for bed.</p>
<p> </p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>BARRY HOWARD http://www.blogger.com/profile/00512462226083686485noreply@blogger.com13