Find Art Stolen August 7, 2011

Meredeth Abbot "Thunderheads" 8x12 2011

I am in an art exhibition called, "Front Country" at the Faulkner Gallery, in Santa Barbara.  It is a collection of artists from the Santa Barbara OAK Group with paintings for sale depicting the front country of Santa Barbara. 50 percent of the proceeds of the sales are to go to benefit the Friends of Franklin Trail Project.

In the 21 years that we in the OAK Group have been together we've raised well over a million dollars for various organizations dedicated to preserving landscapes as open space.

On Thursday night, August 4, 2011 we had one of the paintings stolen from the exhibition.  This is the first time ever an original painting was taken in a heist, from one of our shows. The painting, "Thunderheads" by Meredeth Abbot. It was listed at $900.00, and was graced with a $200.00 Gold Frame.

The police have been notified. Security tapes are being reviewed. There is a remote chance it will be found.

Whomever it was who took this painting off the wall of the gallery had damn good taste in art, and a lot of Gaul stealing it right in front of others in the gallery appreciating the presentation.

Front Country will be on exhibit August 4-August 28, 2011 at the Faulkner Gallery in the Santa Barbara Public Library.

Mamatus Over Carpinteria Jan. 14, 2011

Never have I seen Cumulus Mamatus this profound. I know it's a stretch, but it reminded me of early Roman Antiquity; specifically the statue depicting the story of Romulus and Remus.

The skies this day were full of hope, in the form of sustenance. I yelled out, "MAMMY!!"

New Year's Eve. Dec. 31, 2010

What a way to end the Year; go out a paintin'.

New year's Eve, Butterfly Beach
6"x8" Oil/board
Pvt. Collection

Avalon at Sunset: (off Bora Bora) Dec. 12, 2010

I've recently completed this large commission for Patricia and Charlie Senn, of Texas.

They were fortunate to travel the So. Pacific for a few months, in this large sailboat named, "Avalon". Out of appreciation for the owner of the Avalon who loaned his boat to them, Pat and Charlie commissioned me to paint his boat motoring in to Bora Bora.

It would have been nice to actually experience first hand the awesome colors and light Tahiti is known for, but alas, I was restricted to the reference photos they had from their trip.

The painting was beautifully framed and presented to the owner of the Avalon on December 7, 2010. I can breath a sigh of relief as I am told it was well received, and the gesture appreciated.

Forest of Alchemy November 28, 2010

Now this is what I call an "Inner Vision".

I spent a year and a half creating this work of art for my friend and master of the healing arts; Leanne Keller. (one can't rush things like this)

Leanne's Acupuncture skills and mentor-ship into the Landmark program helped me to heal from my broken marriage,and transcend the fear and anxiety that often accompany separation. In her way, she helped me to create this special forest, which I now unleash unto the world, and for the ages.

Forest of Alchemy
24x36 oil/canvas 2010

Day at Dymphnakirk July 31, 2010

After a late night of mysticism in the town of Gheel and spirit filled synchronicity at the well of Zammel, Robert Eringer, Jimmy Harper, Floater and I returned to Gheel for the goods. As the boys went off to do their deed I searched for my motif.

Making my way between the catastrophic clutter of tombstones I set up my easel in the damp silence of Dymphnakirk's thousand year old cemetery. The gloom was thick as I started to sketch the profile portrait of the ancient masonic bell tower. I was especially intrigued by the red brick building beneath the Bell Tower. It was built specifically for the purpose of performing exorcisms. Inside this building,the possessed were made to crawl under the relics of St. Dymphna; to help purge themselves of their demons.

As I painted I felt I was not alone, I noted the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I turned around to look and saw nothing other than a cluster of grave markers all whom seemed to have Joseph, and Dymphna, etched upon them.

I held out my had and said, "Hi! I know you are here watching me, and I wanted to thank you for hanging out. Thanks for being here." This was my way of reliving the stress of the moment where I felt a presence.

After an hour or so, I was finished. Packed up my gear to leave, and with perfect timing, met Eringer, Floater, and Jimmy on the path out of the cemetery. They went on their quest for the relics, and had success.

Because of the sensitive nature of their belongings we waited until we got back to the Bedlam Bar in London, before they were revealed to me. We then placed them in a special container and placed them beneath Jimmy Harper's beautiful portrait of St. Dymphna where they remained until the close of the Bar two years later.

Once we revealed the relics upstairs at Bedlam, the Dance of Orbs had begun. Every picture I took had celestial globs of light dancing in unpredictable, asymmetric fashion. It seems now that all we had to do was to follow the bouncing orb to our next chapter, delving deeper into creativity and madness.

Moon Over St Dymphnakirk, July 30, 2010

There it was, Dymphna's Cathedral. Lonely, stark, and Medieval Dark. Built by the Mason's One Thousand Plus years ago in homage to the young girl, martyred for not giving in to her father's request for incest.

Robert Eringer, the boy's and I, had gone into the Cathedral to find the evening mass just ending. (only two old lady's wearing black were in attendance). The cathedral inside was also very dark; guess they had problems paying their electric bill?

We asked the Deacon, Joseph, (everybody here is named Joesph or Dymphna) after the two martyred saints) where the relics were, and he said they were across the street in the Museum. We then changed our plans to come back tomorrow when it was lighter outside, (and not so creepy).

I spent the rest of the evening painting this lonely painting of the Full Moon over Dymphnakirk, and having surreal moments at two am near the town of Zammel five miles away (Where Dymphna and Amand (Joseph) lived at the time of the murder.

HERE IS THE FULL ACCOUNTING OF THE MARTYRDOM.

THE DYMPHNA LEGEND: (Excerpt from Surreal Bounce)

She was born in Ireland in during the Merovingian period—very early in the seventh century--the daughter of a pagan king named Damon and a mother who converted to Christianity to ensure Dymphna would be educated under the tutelage of a priest named Gerebern.

Dymphna’s beautiful mother died suddenly. Her father, inconsolable, fell into what today we would call clinical depression. Courtiers worried that their king’s mental health would further deteriorate unless he took another wife, so they urged him to do so. Damon dispatched envoys around Ireland to find a woman as beautiful as the wife he’d lost. When they returned empty-handed, a deranged notion struck the lustful king. Hmmm, my fourteen year-old daughter, Dymphna-–she looks exactly the same as her mother…

Dymphna was horrified by her father’s proposal. Each time she refused his advances, the king’s rage grew worse. Gerebern, the priest, was also perplexed by this situation, and he plotted an escape for them both.

With assistance from the court jester, Dymphna and Gerebern crossed the English Channel by boat and sailed up the River Schelde to Antwerp. Feeling unsafe near a waterway, they made their way inland to Zammel, a small settlement of about fifteen houses and a well six miles from what would later become Gheel.

When King Damon realized his daughter and her pesky priest had duped him, he went nuts. (Also, he no longer had a court jester to help him see the lighter side.)

With a small army of warriors in three boats, the king set sail in search of Dymphna. How did he know where to go? For two months Damon followed the money. Dymphna and Gerebern recklessly left a trail of their native coins as payment for services rendered en route to a new life abroad. The final tip came from a woman at an inn called The Kettle, in a village called Westerlo. She pointed out the direction Dymphna had taken. (Legend suggests arthritis cut in immediately, for the woman’s arm remained rigidly outstretched for the rest of her life.)

When Dymphna and Gerebern learned the king and his warriors were near, they fled Zammel. But not fast enough. The king caught up with them six miles away.

Blaming the couple’s misadventure on Gerebern, Damon slew the priest without further ado (no trial necessary). Then he asked his daughter one last time: “Will you marry me?”

Dymphna declined.

Damon commanded his warriors to execute his daughter. Not one stepped forward. So the crazed king raised his mighty sword and severed Dymphna’s head with one blow. (No one knows what he did to the court jester.) Adding insult to murder and mayhem, Damon and his warriors left the scene without bothering to bury their victims.

Zammel’s citizens were greatly distressed by the carnage they found at the scene. They interred Dymphna and Gerebern at the very spot they were slain.

Word of what happened that tragic day in 621 A.D. traveled around Europe. Within a few hundred years (word traveled slow back then), the burial site became a shrine for mentally disordered pilgrims. They discovered that if they prayed at Dymphna’s burial site, to her relics (bones), their mental illnesses gave way to sanity. (It sure beat an Abilify/Zoloft cocktail.) After notching up a few such miracles, Dymphna qualified for sainthood.

A whole town grew up around it. The town of Gheel.

Today, a marble statue marks this site-–diagonally opposite Dymphnakerk: Demented Damon, under the influence of a demon, poised to decapitate Dymphna–-martyred for her morality.

Image: "Dymphnakerk" by Thomas Van Stein

View the full comedy @ www.surrealbounce.blogspot.com

Gheel In Patients LOL!!! July 26, 2010

Gheel.

Still reeling from the absinthe of clothing on the models, in the two different stores , we continued down the street towards Relic Room, or Dymphna's Cathedral. As Robert Eringer, Floater, Jimmy Harper and I walked along the street, we were soon accompanied by two of Gheelie Girls.

We didn't understand what had happened to us.

What? Why were these girls dressed like this? Something was definitely askew here. Was it us?


I Quickly grabbed my camera and took a shot of this pair of (?)'s

One of them then went to the door of a house and knocked. I took another picture as this little boy came out to hand her something; (candy? Cash? Meds???) I don't know.
But the look on this little kid's face says exactly what I was wondering at the time, "What the F---?...over!

We'd entered into some strange world, that I couldn't figure out which side of the edge we were on.

We finally made ourselves to St. Dymphna's supposed site of slaying;
which now enshrines a marble stature of a lofty Moorish(but really Irish) Man wearing a turban, ready to lop off the head of his own daughter innocently praying on her knees. It looked like a Muslim Honor Killing, only in this case, Dymphna's father was lopping off his daughter's head cause she wouldn't consent to becoming his incester.

We turned the corner and laid our eyes on a dark and austere, foreboding structure with a belfry.

Nothing to Hide: Gheel, July 23, 2010

We were astounded! We had had a brush with the supernatural. Robert Eringer and I noticed things were a wee bit peculiar about this town.

From the Dildo on the Street sign, to the orb in St. Amands Cathedral, everything seemed 'floaty'. We'd been instructed by El Presidente', to walk a mile up the street to St. Dymphnakirk...if we wanted to find Dympthna's relics. So, onward we walked.

I knew from research this town was leveled by the British advance through Belgium, in WWII, and so the streets and Buildings were starkly new.

One Odd thing we noticed was there were cut pine (Christmas) trees roped and dangling upon all the Lamp Posts, like something out of a Story by Dr. Seuss. Some were erect, some falling down, some clinging by a needle. Another Ironic thing; Near St Amands Cathedral was one of the largest lingerie stores I've ever seen, Displaying their seductive wares in their store front windows. There was even a condom dispenser standing a post on the wall outside. Oh-Kaay! I thought to myself.

But by far, the ODDEST sight was coming across not one, but two different clothing stores, nowhere near each other, displaying their mannequins, (or in this case, womannequins), completely devoid of clothing!

I wondered if maybe this was part of the 'Family Therapy' Gheel was famous for?

I found myself surrealing from this site; feeling a bit vulnerable; like I was somewhere in the twilight Zone, having been blessed with X-ray vision!

I couldn't wait to see what waited around the corner!


For more >Motional Blur, see the Surreal Bounce Blog: http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/

First Orb, July 22, 2010

There! On my jacket, above my Bedlam Bar Hat, was the most beautiful Orb I'd ever seen! It was there, as if to say, "Cheese," for the camera. The picture was taken with a digital camera so when we viewed the picture, I saw the orb right away, and enlarged it.

I couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like a medallion, or like a Saint Christopher.

We took another few pictures inside the Cathedral and it seemed the Orb was following us around; hovering up above us.

If I didn't believe in Angels before this day, now I had no doubt they exist.

For more >Motional Blur, see the Surreal Bounce Blog: http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/

Which Way to Gheel? July 21, 2010

You know your are in an interesting space when the roadsigns are purely profound.

This Open Air Mental Institution gave us much amusement; the more we looked around, the more subtle, and extraordinary occurrences we observed. When Robert Eringer, Floater, Jimmy Harper and I traveled to Belgium we were already on a heightened state of awareness, in search of St. Dymphna's relics.

This road sign pointed us in the right direction... (UP!!)

We made our way to St Amand's Cathedral, (which was closed), However we were lucky to be granted entry into the cathedral by it's president, who, after learning I was an artist showed us his fine marble faux painting on the columns behind the alter. We thought this was the church that would have had Dymphna's bones, but we were off by a mile.

This church, was dedicated to the priest who'd fallen for her in Ireland and literally lost his head over it. (This story will follow).

We appreciated the education of the president, and asked him if he would take a picture of us in front of the alter. What came out in the photo would have a surreal influence on our travels to come. Our Odyssey just kept getting more odd by the minute.

In Spire ation
Gheel Belgium 2004

For more >Motional Blur, see the Surreal Bounce Blog: http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/

Happy Henchmen, Antwerp, July 20, 2010

So this is Antwerp. And what have we got?

Cold, Dark, Gray, Moody Day. Robert Eringer, Floater, fellow artist James Harper and I arrived in snarling traffic and drizzle.

Hitting the ground running, we paid homage to Peter Paul Rubens in the Antwerp Cathedral, which housed his magnificent mural sized paintings depicting the Christ deity.

Winter was the season; Creativity and Madness was the reason.

25 miles away was the near-by Mental State of Gheel. We were on a quest; a pilgrimage of sorts, to the murder site of a sixteen year old named Dymphna. Belgians come to Gheel to visit the relics, (Or what's left of 'em) for their healing power, in the belief that they, or their family would be healed of the demons in their heads.

Us? Well, we were on a trail of Irony: A tongue-and-cheeky pathology it seemed.

Near-by the holy Antwerp Cathedral, we dropped in to visit another sort of reliquary, housing the torture tools of trade; serving us as a reminder of the demented depths for which our human ancestry once delved.

This exhibit didn't, in the least bit, enliven our mood: note the happy faces?

All dressed in black, we walked around the diamond district wearing bright, shiny faces, looking to some merchants like four Soprano thugs raring to loot. It was hilarious to see some of them scramble as we approached; they'd see us, then turn around in their tracks, and walk briskly in the opposite direction.

But we weren't interested in their rare gems or stones; we were interested in Dymphna's Bones. So, onward to Gheel.

Robert Eringer and Floater
Antwerp

For more >Motional Blur, see the Surreal Bounce Blog: http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/

Patron Saints July 18, 2010

"Have I got an idea for you," says Robert Eringer, (my new friend, patron, and fellow luna-seeker). He says to me, "I know we are on to something regarding this Creativity and Madness stuff; we've discovered the correlation between madness and genius, as in the case of Vincent Van Gogh.

Eringer took a puff of his Hemmingway Short Story one afternoon, (I quickly snapped a photo), he leaned over to say, You know, I've discovered that there is actually a patron saint for mental illness!

I remember saying to him, (in astonishment), "well then, where are her relics?"

He then told me they are in Gheel, Belgium, and the town is an open air mental institution centered around the relics St. Dymphna. I knew then that we needed to go.

Three months later, the stage was set; Iceland, Arles, were behind us, we would leave on our next adventure in mid-January, under the full Wolf Moon, and seek out more answers.

Who was this Patron Saint Dymphna? We would soon find out, and we would find more extraordinary cultural, human, and supernatural phenomenas which would be added to our depth and understanding of the life we were leading.

Me, an Artist, and Family Man, and Eringer...well, I still didn't quite know what he was about. I knew better than to ask too many questions, and so I trusted that eventually, the smoke would clear and I would learn more details about his adventures.

All I knew is this trip was going to be fun, and that was good enough for me.

Master of Smoke, Mirrors, and Levity
by Thomas Van Stein

Surreal Bounce, 2003

For more >Motional Blur, see the Surreal Bounce Blog: http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/

Van Go Ville (revisited)

Photographs and Memories; snapshots capturing a life in one moment of time, never to be repeated again.

Our trip to Arles France and St. Paul du Maison;in search of the creativity and madness of the Post Impressionist King Vincent, brought us to the ledge. Our search for creativity and madness pushed us over the edge, where surprisingly there was plenty of room to maneuver the manure.

These four photos freeze frame our trip:

Robert Eringer; seen behind bars of the Van Gogh Asylum (contemplating room availability for the night).

Me: I'm resting my laurels in Van Gogh's loony bin bed,(it was a short visit).

An askew street view of Arles farmers market, the possible source of it's famous pungent aromas). Note: Robert Eringer is seen darting away in his freshly painted fly-boy Flight Jacket.

Lastly, Myself; I am captured on film, caught expressing emotions-- somewhere between fascination and disbelief. I'm standing outside the immortalized Cafe de Alcazar, (Now Cafe Vincent Van Gogh), searching for a motif. I'm wondering, "Where did authentic Van Gogh Go?

Ah, so!

Photographs and memories; snapshots capturing a life in one moment of time, never to be repeated again...for good reason.

Surreal Bounce, 2003

For more >Motional Blur, see the Surreal Bounce Blog: http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/

Dearly Depleted!

It's tough getting use to living in the darkness. On second thought, its tough getting sleep when it's nighttime all the time.

This trip to Iceland in the middle of Winter was not only enlightening, but after four solid days of the Viking Life, I'd overdrawn my sleep account. We runthurs had run out of steam.

Never before had I worked so hard to capture the flavor of a culture, and/or purity of a night sky, in paint. In the end, I came away with nine or so paintings; (many are now in the collection of Robert Eringer). I also came away with an insight as to what thesis I could pursue in my future art career; the pursuit of "creativity and madness".

Soon after this picture was taken, my world class snoring left plenty of sawdust on the floor of the airplane, (and plenty of passengers scrambling for their ear plugs).

I wasn't intending to be rude, I was merely being expressive!

Thomas Van Stein, Robert Eringer, Floater, Headin' Home from Going Berserk.

For more flow, see the Surreal Bounce Blog: http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/

Giggle Stick Gallery Rekyavick, Iceland

I've always appreciated this candid photo of Floater; captured expressing both astonishment and disbelief. Here we were, Robert Eringer, Floater, Eric the Red, and I, in the midst of the world's only Phallic Museum, in Wreck-it-up, Iceland.

We meandered through the penile presentations, (all Bobbited from various mammals); From Penguins to Porpoises, Elephants to Blue Whales. Some schvantzes extended so far out from the wall you had to mind your own head, so to speak, or else you could put 'your eye out, or maybe kick the stick and stumble!

If you were naturally short in stature, you could succeed in circumnavigating the throngs of prongs by either high-stepping, or dancing the limbo throughout the museum's dozens of dildo displays.

It was Ironically hilarious for us [macho men], to see such a display. It made us a bit uneasy; especially when the Owner/operator of the Museum scanned us with a disdainful eye. (He'd overheard our chuckles).

With one eye open, he was watching out for yank pranks!

To him, this museum was no fallacy. This was his serious' collection of cocks, and he was proud of his pricks! Glaring at us between our murmurs, and mumbles. He horned in on Eringer; sizing him up as though he was looking to complete his collection!!

I could see we were making this Viking Thor. So, imagining the chop from a bronze battle ax, I decided I'd seen enough of this homage to homer, and slipped out the back.

I had to wonder how someone like this curator would explain what he does for a living? Would Freud consider this a form of penis envy? Could one wager a bet on what the curator is thinking about a good part of his day? Wouldn't it be funny if he were on the Television show, "What's my Line?" That episode would be a hit!

Granted, there is an art to the procurement, taxidermy, and installment of the sculptus erectus, but I can't help but think that some Vikings have way too much time on their hands.

If one is undecided where they stand on the issue of whether or not size matters, they could find plenty of resources to help them reach a conclusion; there at this museum to the phallus.

My conclusion; It's not the size that matters, it's how you use what ya got in order to get the job done!

Club Nasa, Rekyavik Iceland.

After getting Stuffed with Puffin and Whale Steak, Robert Eringer Floater, Eric the Red, and I, made our way out into the late night pub crawl; doing the Runtur as it is called in Icelandic. We made our way into this large discotheque called Club Nasa, filled with hundreds of Vibrating Vikings.

We climbed up on to a platform above the large dance floor which pulsated with bobbing blond heads; a large Disco Ball swirled up above. There were vikings dancing every where; even on the stage which was showing black and white silent movies as a backdrop. I have never heard such a loud beat from the Woofers.

Eringer encouraged me to do a painting of the scene before me so I broke out my Small pochade box and went to work capturing the excitement of the dance. During the painting blond vixens climbed up on the rails and attempted to distract me by speaking garbled mumbles of Icelandic in my ear. It was futile to try to 'pick me up' because not only did I not understand their Nordic language, but it was so incredibly loud, that all I could do is attempt to lip read, which too was useless. I'll say this much, not even when she licked my ear with her tongue did I understand what was going on.

Floater, Eringer, and Eric the Red could see I was having a challenging time accomplishing my painting so they formed a blockade around me disallowing any more viking invaders into my space...

We knew they were just young and curious; much as their ancestors who circumnavigated the globe centuries before. But we were on a mission to experience and capture berserkness during this Feast of Thorbladt; not be captured by berserkers
and feasted upon for their enjoyment.

Read More about Surreal Bounce:
http://surrealbounce.blogspot.com/


Van Stein painting in Club Nasa
Photo credit:
Eric the Red (Russel)

Walking Amongst Masters, June 6,2010

When I went back to school to get my Master in Arts Degree in 1997, I sought out my teachers. I found a book in an art store by the contemporary master artist, Harry Carmean, who's proficiency and skill with line and form have astounded many art officianatos.

Fast forward to last night at the four seasons Biltmore in Santa Barbara; the Bottoms Gallery hosted a one night salon, exhibiting the artwork of Harry Carmean, for one evening.

Walking in to the salon I was very still, taking in the beauty before me. All the paintings were hung and lit well, and framed nicely. What a treat; to be in the presence of such masterworks, of an artist I'd only heard about, and studied, years before. There's nothing like the real deal.

As the evening went on I introduced myself to Harry, who was conversing with another contemporary Master Artist, James "Bud" Bottoms. (I show my work at Bud Bottom's Son Joseph's gallery)

This was just a brief orbit of us three artists. I was all ears as Harry and Bud shared their WWII stories: Harry was in the 2Nd Wave of U.S. forces on Omaha Beach, firing anti-aircraft, Bud operated radar on TBF's in the Pacific.

The rest of the evening was spent in dialog on art and masters of the past. The flow was extraordinary; always placing things in context. I feel it could have gone on all through the night.

I left there, feeling grateful, and appreciative for that which is to come.


Photo:

"Harry Makes a Point"
Left to Right: Harry Carmean, Myself, James "Bud" Bottoms

A Rosie Day. May 31, 2010

Spent a wonderful day teaching the art of painting en plein air (on location) at the Santa Barbara Rose Garden. I have a great class of adults, many of whom I have taught for close to ten years now.

Today's lesson was about how to paint flowers, and warm/cool contrasts. The demo took about an hour and 15 minutes.

My best friend Bella is seen in the upper left of the photo, waiting on gopher.

This was a rewarding day.

Asylum Night Spook. May 25, 2010

I love how shapes come together in the night. Not all is explained; things are in silhouette, and my imagination takes off!

This vision was just to the right of the image from yesterday's blog. I didn't need Eringer to creep up behind me and go BOO!! What was I looking at, a skull?

Well, it was creepy, so I got the idea that some day, I would paint a painting honoring Vincent: painting his famous painting, "A Starry Night". and I would use this image as reference, as a back drop.

Sometimes I see too much...

St. Paul des Maison Mental Hospital
Near St. Remy, France. Winter 2003