During our last chat, I was slap-dashing a loose close-up of Robert Plant in an attempt to regain my sanity after OCD-ing over architectural elements in a certain New Orleans street scene. I signed the piece today after declaring it officially DONE. So how did this painting go from fueling the flames of dysthymia* to inducing outbursts of childish mirth? My theory is the power of hemispheric bait and switch. Say WHAT, you say? Well, this is a gross oversimplification, but you

I know artists who believe that in order to develop in one's craft, one must ALWAYS work outside the comfort zone. I just returned from a trip to rural Iowa, and my assessment of that premise was represented frequently along the shoulders of remote country backroads. HORSE PUCKY! Before said trip, I think I had followed this advice for a bit too long. I'd been working on a few paintings that challenge my ability to use perspective to create architectural elements (which drive