Journal specks

Am into a good period now and am getting lots done. Have worked endlessly to improve my website and add new pictures. Hope you enjoy it. Please write me a note and tell me what you think!:) Make art, not war!!! -El Toro

The activity in my stiudio is winding down for summer as most students will take a break and return fall. But it feels good to retrun to my own projects and work harder on them. Am also now fully involved on Twitter (find me there!) and on Facebook.

Working away with my students and projects. Also do a lot on the web. Find me at Facebook and Twitter.

It's spring and that feels great. The exhibit at Petit Paris wasn't a success saleswise but provided good exposure. Feel good about the upcoming exhibit in November at Rygge Kunstforening and have framed 10 goauces already. Also provided a guided trip to the National Gallery with my students which was a success that we'll repeat in the fall. If you are interested in painting and live close by, give me a call. Private lessons, but we have some social activities together.

An interesting month is coming to an end. Just one week left of the Cafe' Petit Paris exhibit. Being a short month and with an extreme amount of snow and bad weather, I'm sure has it's taken its toll and sales are absent. Then there's the financial crisis. But no bailout packages for us artists. Heck no, we just keep plugging along the same: That's the advantage for us--We're used to the rough!

"Don't wear matching socks because who wants to be like everyone else," I finished my last newsletter. This statement was written into my Olympus High school yearbook in 1989 (when an exchange student from Sweden), by a person I no longer remeber. How true that is! I mean, who are these people who settle with averige and being ordinary? Orderly fine, but like everyone else, no. Still, there's a fine line between being yourself and a copycat. Picasso said, "Bad artists copy. Good artists steal." But stealing or not, I have decided to be me for the rest of my life.

Last week I got the terrible news that one of my students; a woman named Kirsten in her late seventies had died from a stroke. Having painted in my studio since June, I got to know her well and was always amazed at her spirit. It feels strange now that she's gone, and yesterday in the studio I stared at the canvas she was working on and the clothes she wore painting. I will miss you Kirsten, and the cookies you brought.

Standing at the doorstep of a new year, I wonder what will happen? I've never really cared much for New Years lately. Not since I was a teenager really, now associating it with bad conscience of things undone or glances down memory lane. But this year, I think some good things might happen. I don't know where this sudden burst of optimism comes from, but none the less, it's there. And I think I must build on these feelings so I don't crush them by cynicism and stubbornness (easier said than done). In a way, it feels like I'm balancing at the top of a (glass) greenhouse, knowing that these thoughts are fragile and most tender.

Wow, this year is going fast, which has to be a good sign of progress, as I figure if it went slow I wouldn't go anywhere?

The opening of Hvaler Resort went real well and the "ordfører" (Governor?) of Hvaler recieved one of my paintings by owner Svendsen at the opening, and I was told it would hang in the City Hall.

Have painted over several canvases from 2003-2005 that I don't feel are good enough. I do this a lot and see it part of the progress and the first layers are real important to the end result.

I just returned from a trip to Mesa Arizona and feel rejuvinated by the sun. But oh how hard it was to return to Oslo and feel the snow in the air, and now I know why so many down-trottened artists have seeked their refuge to the French Riviera, Italy, or Spain. But I just have to press on. What else is there to do?