Pastel on Paper. 8x10. 1987. The soil must be prepared if it is to produce the desired crop, and heavy machinery makes quick work of what used to take much longer. Even soil with clay is no match for the blades that rip methodically and relentlessly. The natural growth is once again plowed under.
Oil on Linen. 42x56. 1987. As I looked at the reflection in the back window of my pickup I gazed on another beautiful sunset. The colors and majesty of the tall standing corn satisfied my soul in a way that the corporate world I left could never do. For me, there would be no need to incorporate twice.
Pastel on Paper. 8x10. 1987. While exploring the countryside I came across a crop I had rarely saw near my home. I was told it was milo, but never knew why it was grown and what food value it contained. I thought that it somehow looked foreign to the landscape. I saw it as oriental and rendered it that way.
