“And Then There’s The Cricket”

Xu Hong Bin, a sumi-e painter out of Hebei, near Tiainjin published a book in 2010 that highlights, in a delightful way, the beauty of a “little soul” that inhabits our gardens and homes— the humble cricket. His macro-landscapes, in some ways, remind me of some of Qi Baishi’s most signature scenes in which he would include a minimalist zen rendering of a rock and a stem of grass or bamboo and then bring in an amazing guest—a beautifully executed insect— a snail or a grasshopper or a butterfly. In similar fashion, Xu’s crickets appear as modestly and intricately rendered souls. In a large peony piece, I recently included a cricket that suggests his distinctive style. In this blog post, I just include a close up of the bottom left corner of that much larger work in order to bring emphasis to the little guy who enlivens the whole landscapel.

“Backyard Fireflies”

Garden landscapes are a favorite of Asian artists who paint peony best. By bringing focus to the community life of these flowers, such sumi-e masters bring to us virtual explosions of luxurious blossoms and their abundant “packages of color” while, at the same time, broadening the conversation to include a mesmerizing focus on composition. Designed well, garden composition should asserts the important movements of stem and leaf as they frame the members of the flower neighborhood. Fireflies on magic summer evenings light up these moments in the yards surrounding out homes.

“Poppin’ Butterflies”

As I continue to emphasize peony in this first quarter of 2026, I’m learning more about ink. The yellow swallowtail at the top of the piece is an example of complementary partnership between ink and color. The yellow “popped” beyond expectation. Also, the ink in this piece was actually ground on my ink stone minutes before putting brush to paper. The it acted differently than manufactured ink as it created a granular stroke before becoming dry. Learning more and more as I go along.

“Final Tractor Run”

In my world of sumi-e, when we see a painting in which negative space is little to none and inordinate amounts of ink and watercolor pigments layer one another and dry brush stokes look over the top, we say the piece is a little “dirty.” I admit that “Final Tractor Run” is, indeed, a dirty painting. When one of my friends first saw the work he called it, not dirty but “gnarly,” but I think he really meant dirty. Anyway, all that said, to me dirty seems the correct style for the mix of natural little souls, the depleted soil, the broken remains of harvest and the hint of commerial farming— it’s a gnarly mix. There’s something rough and dirty here; like two kids in a good natured backyard wrestlling match with their dad.

“Peony Resolve”

This is the second of the pieces created for the “Monochromatic” show. One of the main benefits I personally received in undertaking a peony in ink was a renewed interest in peony in general. The brush strokes for creating traditional sumi-e peonies are counter-intuitive and subtle. Also, the brush loading is demanding. So, it was a delight to give it another try! This painting has become one in a series of peonies for 2026. I’m thankful for the opportunity to engage with what is called the “King Of Flowers”.

“Quiet Harvest Moment”

This piece was one of two works I prepared for submission to the “Monochromatic” exhibit at the Virginia Beach Art Center. It is a juried event; so I’m not absolutely sure it will be accepted for showing in March. That said, I enjoyed the process of creating in tones of black and gray— it was a reminder of the awesomeness of ink. The monochromatic presentation was just what the “quiet” moment called for as it seemed to create an invitation to enter the macro world of the “little souls”.

“The Winding Road to Retirement”

“The Winding Road to Retirement” is a personal work though it was created as a commission and was immediately shipped out to its home in Ohio. I just sort of started the work in a dispassionate way but was soon drawn in to the layered narrative— an abandoned bulkhead, a broken vessel, tracks of the couple (the crabs) as they ran the gaunlet under the noses (beaks) of the hungry egrets, and then finally the bewildered gaze fo the two “survivors” at the expansive water’s edge…fun stuff.

“White Flower”

“White Flower” is part of an exciting collaboration with classical guitar player, Herb Smith. After Herb recorded short classical pieces for his CD, I Iistened to several selections. His recording of “Bianco Fiore” caught my attention, and I really enjoyed trying to capture its rhythm, runs and trills. I’ll include a link to Herb’s music here in hopes that you’ll be able to take in this "total” experience.

https://herbsmithguitar.bandcamp.com/.../bianco-fiore...

“When Truth Seems in Short Supply”

This painting was created for the Chapel Gallery’s autumn exhibition that focused on the life of the Bibilcal figure, Jacob. The highly metaphorical piece points to the "social landscape" of Jacob and in particular the challenge of deceit and falsehood that seemed to invade his life many times. Despite the lack of truth and the deceiving world around him (Jacob was both a deceiver at times and a victim of deceit), God was in control and working out his grand plan of redemption.  At the center of Jacob’s “life-landscape” is Joseph's coat of many colors that his brothers tore and spotted with blood in order to deceive their father, Jacob. This is such a disheartening event; yet in the end, the divine redemptive hand of grace reveals itself as Joseph attests in Gen. 50:20 — “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive today.”

“The Last Three Seconds”

As I understand it, the Japanese enso finds its roots in a zen tradition that is an aid to meditation, an expression of enlightenment and a state of mind that is momentary yet profound. As a modern artistic practice, it is also sometimes filled or surrounded by an inscription or scene that hints at the artist’s intended meaning. It meshes well with Chinese “one breath” free style (xieyi) painting and as such, expresses the spontaneity and energy of a moment experienced in the mind of the artist. Recently, I painted ensos as an artistic relaxation exercise, and in the end, discovered several that needed further development with my brush. “The Last Three Seconds” or as I sometimes call it “my hospice piece” (lol), expresses my Christian hope — renewal and eternal life after death. The three consecutive seconds— the first moment, a plum tree blossoming in the final season, its disintigration in the middle second, and its transformation into a luxurious evergreen filling the transition moment. The inscription is the title— the last three seconds.

Bruegel Anyone?

One of the startling themes in the art of Bruegel is human mortality. In many of his works, death comes in the midst of the mundane everyday activities of existence. Perhaps not as dramatic but still startling are the abandoned houses, the homes of fishermen, that stand in ruins on the edge of things. This is a kind of death— the death of a way of life, a testiment to the tidal water of the creeks that rises, invades and evicts… The marsh hen and her brood scamper across in front of the old house. They are looking for mudcrabs and grasshoppers. Life is good. The open door swings open with the wind and the torn and rotting nets still hang next to the collapsing front porch. There is a sad lesson here.

The Winding Path

Retirement is reached after negotiating a winding and risk-ladden path. This piece underscores that fact. The “couple”, the two crabs, have made their way through the labrinth of spartina grass. Predators, the 3 egrets, now seeming to be behind them, wait for their ambush moment, patiently and attentively on the lookout for other travelers.

Is this the final destination— two crabs —reaching the edge of the creek and staring out at the expanse? This is supposed to be a happy moment. Are they confused? Or are they just overwhelmed with the multitude of opportunities up ahead? We are built to run best on meaning. Retirement aside, the demands of questions like “why” and “so what” are crucial all the time, and I find this need and drive for meaning is especially important for artists, each work is a question really— why? and so what?

Marsh Hen: On The Run

I recently arrived at what I call my “marsh studio” in Engelhard, NC, and my neighbor, Louis, pointed out two marsh hens in the front yard. They weren’t in sight long as they quickly scurried into the spartina grass. Louis explained that the marsh hens are specifically known as Virginia rails. He said they come every year and parent a brood of black-downy babies. He said he tells his cats they are off limits….I wonder what his cats are thinking at that moment, but anyway, it was cool to see the pair. According to my brief research, I found the Virginia rails are very shy and secretive birds. They are monogomous and are, if hunted and cooked, pretty tasty. Personally, I am not expecting them to appear on my table, but I am looking forward to seeing the brood running around in a few weeks. The piece I just finished is the first of a series of marsh hen studies I’d like to do this Spring….I am inspired but we’ll see what happens.

The painting below started slow and I nearly discarded it after the first pass with the brush. But then something happened. As the roots of the spartina grass and other marsh vegetation darkened and grew richer, the hen’s orange-brown breast and white trim popped. It is nice when this happens and reminds me of moments when camouflaged and relatively “invisible” creatures suddenly come into focus. Such sudden discoveries suggest I am in need of more mindful attentiveness. The little hen in this piece is a teenager trying out his legs, and he has two companions— the katydid in the upper left and (my favorite) the little ladybug to the right of the bird. The Mattamuskeet lodge smokestack in the upper left corner marks the location.

A Reason For Rain

This piece was personally gratifying to create. The pour simply happened, and then the flow of pigments and ink spoke, and water rushed down. Rain, for me, is often an unwanted guest, but the meandering of the rocky brook provided another take on rain. Rain creates and compels, and it finds a way. I especially enjoyed the small rivulet that emerges from the stand of trees at the lower left suggesting a special and secret spot that quenches thirst and invites meditation. The scene also raises awareness that the droplets and rivulets do find a bigger home in the creek below. There is direction and then rest. The departing heron is, in this case, a watcher who has been filled (with fish?). The abstracted ink and indigo that hosts the scene makes me thankful for clarity and emergent meaning from the Designer…. if I can just patiently wait on Him.

NC Hwy 94

It is my habit to drive NC Hwy 94 on the way to my “marsh studio” in Engelhard, NC. Some stretches of this highway between Columbia and Fairfield seem remote and lonely. Many are extremely straight and when I see no one is visible in front or behind, I stop in the middle of the road long enough to jump out and photograph the yellow pitcher plants, white water lilies, turtles, dragonflies, etc. in the shallow ditch that parallels the blacktop. They are an amazing example of simple NC marsh beauty. I might intentionally drive to a botanical park or a Japanese garden to see such a lovely partnership of flora and fauna, but then, on other days I find myself just cruising to my kayaks and cabin, eating an egg Mcmuffin…thinking about where I can get bait shrimp and then suddenly…there they are. It always surprises…in a wonderful way.

Watched Over

“Bodie Light” is the first in a series of paintings that explore the quiet moments of little living things in the marsh. The piece focuses on two sources of light— the sunrise and the lamp of the Bodie Island lighthouse. Together they open up the marsh landscape and even spotlight an egret and 2 mudflat crabs in the foreground. The attention given to the impact of light across the scene is decidedly an “unsumi-e” gesture, but I took that rather transgressive excursion for a purpose. The painting was created for a special show at my church’s up-and-coming gallery show called — “Bringing the Light.” In the end, to me, the yellow rays give the wet and broken marsh-scape a warm brilliance. The tonal qualities evoke a feeling of peace and a quiet assurance that all things are being watched over.

“Angels & Their Jobs”

The Virginia Beach Chapel Gallery show opens in about one week (running Nov. 1-Jan. 5) and I, for a change, have looked ahead and created a work for the exhibition. The subject matter is traditional— shepherds, sheep, a multitude of angels, star, special star to indicate Jesus’s birthplace, lots of light in the middle of the night. A fun scene. I decided to take the fun to the next level by including a Farsidesque lost sheep in the right foreground, an angel playing a Fender and another playing a Hofner 500 (a “Beatle bass”), one with a sax…and so on. The work is a fusion of Western and Eastern styles. As my son said, “Dad, they don’t have mountains like that near Bethlehem.” Anyway, I enjoyed the indigo/mineral green applications in the piece. As for the fusion and fun, well… I hope they just create a playful invitation to come and have a closer look at a very significant moment in human history.

Decisions…Decisions

Autumn is the time for celebrating the 9th month of the lunar calendar with paintings of chrysanthemums. This is the sumi-e way. Personally, I don’t grow mums in my garden, but I do love the stark frankness of ink as it incisively brings the closing comment to summer and growth and possibility. If embraced, it accents the melancholy of golden years and, as the Japanese say, the “beautiful death” of all finite things. The artistic expression is not sudden, brash or defined by sharp edges. Dying is a process, a process of many unfolding decisions. The two old friends in the tops of the mums- the grasshopper and the katydid— face one another from the two sides of the path. Approaching one another one final time in the cool autumn morning is a possibility that seems appealing, but it is not without danger— the mindless sparrow looking for breakfast is in the way… Decisions…Decisions.

“Waters Rising”

There is a certain “high ground” to artistic grumbling about ecological decay. This is easy to see in the land next to marshes. Ice is melting and the water is, indeed, rising. That said, my personal connect feels strongest to the displaced lives and brokeness of families as they pursue their traditional ways at the edge.

Exhibition 1: “Threshold Grace: A Sumi-e Journey

It is a priviledge to announce my solo show at the Sandler Center that opens at the end of the month. Hope you can come to the reception on April 15th. If you, by chance, just can’t make it on the night of April 15th but would like a guided walk through, just let me know via email (mike@thresholdart.com) and I’ll plan to meet you at the Sandler gallery.