The choice of an inspirational object becomes the impulse for creating three works that reveal an artistic process.  My object is the fried egg.

The exhibition Through the Artist's Eye asks the following questions of participating artists:
  1. What do you see that others do not?
  2. How do you experience it?
  3. How does it manifest itself as you create your art?

I began a study of the fried egg last summer and decided to continue this exploration for the exhibition using principles of analogical play.   


Question 1 is particularly difficult to answer since I don't know what or how others see.  I use as many senses as possible when creating art. 

Before painting a fried egg, I must fry it.  For me seeing is in large part experiential, I paint from the inside out.


Frying an egg involves getting the temperature of the pan just right so both the white and yolk are cooked to perfection (no rubber egg will penetrate my parted lips). I hear a lovely crackling sound as it connects with the surface of the pan while a discernibly healthful aroma infuses the air.  Some might add salt and pepper to their eggs, not me!  I love mine fried "au naturel". A gem to behold, it's shiny, colourful, almost too beautiful to eat.


It's an egg...from a chicken.

I think about all the types of eggs that exist in the world including those that were once inside my own body. Associations abound but there is little time to wallow in fanciful thoughts.  I have to eat this sucker before it gets cold!  The yolk runs as I pierce it with my fork or perforate it with piece of warm toast. My mouth waters as it gently slips down my esophagus.  

What does it remind me of?  When two eggs are on a plate, the yolks look like eyes. They stare at me emptily.  Using my "eye pad", (sorry...bad pun), I place photos of my breakfast atop a picture of my face. The ensuing image in turn, becomes my 2015 Happy New Year's card. 

This playful thought process inspires my second painting.  I block out the eggs and sketch the face in caran d'ache. I discover that I really like painting fried eggs.  Those little specks of white are particularly delightful as they create the illusion of light reflection.  

I don't really want a toothy grin in this painting and paint juicy red lips.

I photograph my companion with a towel wrapped around his neck to analyze the folds. Elements start coming together. 

I add hair to the top of the head, develop the background and transform the towel into a blue garment. I add stripes to create texture.

I flesh out the lips.  

Shadows are adjusted and more pattern is added to the background.  Additional refinements are needed but I put the painting aside to begin the next work.

The idea of having egg on one's body carries through into the following piece. I plan on painting the iPad sketch of the Woman on a fried egg blanket.  I develop the face but decide to postpone this interpretation.

Instead I paint out the face and leave a multitude of fried eggs on the background.  I ask myself another question: "what if egg shapes were to cover the entire body, like a disease, perhaps "Egg Pox"?  I rummage through my model drawings and find a gesture pose that reflects my state of mind and I block it in on my egg filled canvas.

I add eggshells.

Egg shapes and multiple curves reproduce.  The figure is covered and surrounded with fried wonders of every size.  I consider turning the figure into a bird hybrid but after painting a couple of feathers, I axe the idea.

Refinements ensue, he now wears a black fedora and holds an oversized egg at his knees.

The work is riddled with incongruities but my brush is now possessed by the Demon of Inconsistencies.

My figure appears contemplative, guilty, tormented, his skin is transparent in parts and one can perceive a suggestion of bones.

Voilà!...the birth of a masked bandit obsessed with fried egg thievery (conceived of a runaway mind).

Final works!

The Facial

The Bandit