Low Resolution.
“Resolutions? Me?? Just what are you implying? That I need to change?? Well, buddy, as far as I’m concerned, I’m perfect the way I am!”
Happy New Year? - I’ve never been much for New Year’s resolutions—especially the usual ones: join a gym, eat better, read more books. Those kinds of promises tend to dial up the pressure for self-improvement, and if you know me, you know I already carry a healthy surplus of that. There’s no need to kick off the year by piling on more expectations. I wouldn’t survive them. So I abstain.
And yet… here I am. January arrived, somehow became February, and I find myself reaching for goals that, from the outside, might look suspiciously like (belated) New Year’s resolutions. To my chagrin.
But I don’t think they are. The timing—drawn out as it is—is purely coincidental. An inconvenient alignment of calendar and intention.
Volume One (Ryan) | 8 × 10 in. | Oil on Panel
Ginny and the Way Back Machine | 30 × 40 in | Oil on Oil Paper
Tell More Stories - One of the things I love most about portraiture is the sense that I’m telling someone’s story—albeit in paint or charcoal. The tilt of a head, the hint of a smile, the placement of a hand—paired with light, pose, and brushwork—all collaborate to capture a single moment in time while implying something much larger: a life.
A story.
Who is this person? What experiences have shaped them into this version of themselves, right here, right now? And what is my relationship to them?
This year, I want to lean more deeply into those questions. I want to further explore my relationships with the people in my life through my artwork—and tell their stories with greater clarity, honesty, and intention.
Share What (I think) I Know - It was genuinely inspiring to welcome students into my studio each week to draw from life. In a moment when so much “artmaking” happens on screens, there’s something deeply meaningful about returning to a practice artists have relied on for centuries: working from a live model, observing carefully, and creating with our own hands. The energy in the room—the focus, the quiet intensity, the shared appreciation for this timeless craft—made those sessions a true highlight of my year.
Teaching has also been an opportunity to tell my own story. My path to making art has been anything but linear—jagged, broken, and very much still in progress. Sharing that honestly, alongside the work itself, has been unexpectedly rewarding. This year, I’m looking forward to offering more workshops and continuing to share both what I’ve learned and the road that led me here.
My schedule has pushed new workshops to late spring/early summer. If you’re interested, stay tuned.
Put Myself Out There - Last year was about exposure. After returning to making art full-time, I wanted to put myself out there as much as possible. One of the true highlights was being included in the 57th Annual Mountain Oyster Club Art Show (November–January). It was the first major Western art show I’d submitted to since taking the leap, and the experience exceeded every expectation.
I had the chance to meet an incredibly talented group of contemporary Western artists, take in a wealth of inspiring work—both at the show and in galleries around Tucson—and connect with generous, thoughtful people along the way.
Huge thanks to the team at the Mountain Oyster Club, and to the collector who took home Atomic Loop. I’m deeply grateful for the experience—and I plan to keep putting myself out there this year.
Simple Reminders - So maybe these aren’t resolutions. Maybe they’re simply reminders—to tell better stories, to share what I’ve learned (and what I’m still learning), and to keep putting myself out there, even when it feels uncomfortable. If there’s a thread running through all of it, it’s this: connection. To the people I paint, to the students in my studio, to the broader community of artists and collectors. As I step further into this year, that’s the direction I’m heading—deeper work, honest teaching, and a willingness to show up fully and see what happens.
On the Studio Floor - A few of the art books currently littering my workspace. These really strike at the love I have for narrative art, animation, and character design.
