Believe Me

#Believe Me

oil on canvas

16" x 48"

Holiday

Yesterday's paintings are unavailable...you snooze you lose, I suppose.  Thanks for following along and thanks for buying.  

I plan to go back and write a thing or two about each of the paintings...something I didn't have time to do yesterday.  Nothing to scroll down for, but worth noting.  

Did you know that today is Culinarians Day, Health and Happiness with Hypnosis Day, International Red Shoe Day, National Carousel Day, National Hot Fudge Sundae Day, National Wine and Cheese Day, and National Thread the Needle Day?  There are only so many days in the year, I guess...and so many people that need an excuse to wear their red shoes.  Here's to wine, hot fudge, and carousels everyday of the year...or whatever else you might be depriving yourself of.  

#20

"Another Day Done"
oil on canvas
6" x 8"

As hard as I've tried, I can never come close to reproducing the light and color of the sun as it sets.  I'll probably never get it, but I'll probably never stop trying.  It's sickening, really.

#19

"Summer Sun"

oil on canvas

9" x 12"

I've painted this scene several times.  I never really nail it, but I always learn something about color while staring directly at the sun.  

#18

"Last Light at the Border"

oil on canvas

12" x 12"

I have a neighbor that likes to keep his grass cut shorter than mine.  Our only interactions occur while mowing the lawn at the same time...it's one of those half-wave head nod sort of things.  

#17

"Dying Apple Tree"

oil on canvas

9" x 9"

A couple of the apple trees are dead on one side, but cranking out apples on the other.  I can't help but thinking I should be doing something more with the apples to increase their will to live. 

#16

"Gibson"

oil on canvas 

8" x 8"

Gibson is my assistant.  He's got a silver beard and a knack for swimming.  He hates thunderstorms and loves ice cream cones without ice cream.  He's the boss around here.  

#15

"Apples"

oil on canvas

9" x 12"

I'll go out on a limb and say this is my favorite of the day.  My grandmother would have me pick the apples and put them in a big red bucket.  She'd make applesauce with them every so often, but for the most part, these wormy little things just fed the deer.  They still feed the deer.  When I'm not watching the cars drive by, I'm usually watching apples fall from the trees and roll down the hill...I'm a wildman. 

#14

"Companions"

oil on canvas

8" x 8"

I love this one for all sorts of reasons.  Every so often, a big storm will blow all of the chairs into the pool.  When I was a teenager, I worked as a lifeguard at the public swimming pool.  They had the same type of chairs.  After every big storm, I'd have to dive to the bottom of the diving well to recover twenty plastic adirondacks.  Ahhh...I can smell sunburn just thinking about it. 

#13

"Overhead"

oil on canvas

6" x 12"

Things get hotter, clouds get taller. 

#12

"Turn Turn"

oil on canvas

8" x 10"

Sometimes the clouds look like they're stuck, moving impossibly slow.  Then you try to paint them and realize they're moving a bazillion miles per hour.  

#11

"Spigot"

oil on canvas

6" x 8"

This old thing has pumped well over a million gallons during my lifetime.  It's the perfect shade of rust. 

#10

"Nana's Roses"

oil on canvas

8" x 10"

These roses were planted for my grandmother to enjoy while sitting at the kitchen table.  My wife and I enjoy them now. 

#9

"Rocker"

oil on canvas

12" x 12"

From my front stoop.  We like to sit in the evening...watch the cars go by and wave to strangers. 

#8

"Gates and Such"

oil on canvas

6" x 12"

These are the types of things I look for when a subject isn't making itself obvious.  This is not a beautiful thing to look at in person, but for whatever reason, all of those angles and colors look just right on canvas.  

#7

"Across the Way"

oil on canvas

8" x 8"

If this isn't Indiana, I don't know what is.  I really like this little painting, especially that curved shadow. 

#6

"George's Bird Dog"

oil on canvas

9" x 12"

I could probably write a book about this one.  This was my grandfather's concrete bird dog...you saw him earlier next to the garage.  I can remember my grandfather calling the statue "Pete".  Pete was also the name of his favorite dog throughout my youth.  I met Pete as a puppy.  I'd never been around a dog before and ran from it when we were introduced.  I fell and the little dog bit my ear.  Pete was my favorite of the hunting dogs.  It was the last dog my grandfather brought home.  This concrete version had his tale broken off a couple of times.  My grandfather paid me a few bucks to paint him every few years.  In an ironic twist, I do the same now, sort of.

#5

"For the Birds"

oil on canvas

6" x 8"

These Martin houses are in my neighbor's backyard.  I never see birds coming or going from the houses, but I know they're there.  After I finish mowing the lawn, the little birds put on a show, diving for bugs exposed in the short grass.  

#4

"Approach"

oil on canvas

12" x 12"

I keep my lawnmower in this garage.  The small building visible behind and to the right of the garage was once used for my grandfather's hunting dogs...it's falling in on itself now.  The bright yellow, that's a hose.  And that dog like shape next to, that's a concrete dog...I had it placed there to remind me of my younger days, watching my grandfather run the dogs in the back lot prior to feeding them.  

#3

"Wendy's Hibiscus" 

oil on canvas

8" x 8"

I could've stood in my neighbor's yard to paint this, but I wanted to try and capture it from a distance.  At fifty feet away, simplifying a subject becomes much easier.  I don't paint flowers much, but when I do, I like this approach...flat and abstract. 

#2

"Driveway Tree"

oil on canvas

8" x 10"

This is one of my favorites of the day.  I like the simplicity and color, but I'm really partial to the composition.  It's not a landscape, it's a painting of a tree. 

#1

"Just West"

oil on canvas

9" x 12"

This place is just west of my home, visible from my driveway.  I typically avoid painting barns like this, as it's easy to paint nothing but red barns here in Indiana, but I can't pass this one up.  I've painted this scene a few different ways a half dozen times.  A few years ago, someone drove a pickup truck through the big one on the left.  The driver ended up being okay, thank goodness, but I like to imagine the truck was left inside.  

Buck Twenty Five

So here's the deal...

A friend of mine asked me if I'd do a "Christmas in July".  I was unsure of what he meant at first, but I've got it figured out.  He swears he was joking, but I know better.  Give the people what they want!  So, for those of you who love to pounce on paintings in December, I'll let you in on a secret...Monday, July 24th is Christmas...sort of.  Here's how it works...

On Monday, I'll be painting in my yard, from sunup until sundown.  I'll fetch the mail, eat a sandwich, and maybe even fall asleep in the grass for a bit, but I plan on cranking out some serious summer fun on canvas.  I've always loved the idea of painting for an entire day without having to break down my easel, schlep around a backpack full of paint, or worry about my car getting towed.  Most of all, I want to paint in bare feet under my favorite shade tree.  It's going to be a great day.  I want to share a little bit of it.  Feliz Navidad!

I'll post each painting on this blog, as it comes off the easel, numbered and titled.  Each painting will be between 6" x 8" and 11" x 14".  Each painting will be available for purchase from the time it's posted until midnight on Monday.  Each painting costs $125 + tax/shipping, unframed.  To purchase, just send an email to wyattlegrand@gmail.com, including the number of the painting you're calling dibs on in the subject box.  First-come, first-served.  I'll update each post as the paintings sell.  You'll receive an email confirmation with details about finalizing your purchase.  Easy. 

I'll be disappointed if I don't cover twenty canvases.  That's two paintings for each of the ten people that I think follow this silly thing.  Share with your friends...or don't.  I start painting as the sun starts coming up...Monday.  

Rose-Hulman

I currently have thirty-eight paintings on display in Moench Hall of Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology in Terre Haute, Indiana.  The group of work I selected is a smorgasbord of subjects from the past three years.  The show looks great (thanks Christy) and will be up through December.  There will be a reception on Thursday, December 7th, if you're into that sort of thing.  I hope to see you there, but if you stop in sometime sooner, treat yourself to a walk through the halls and library.  Rose-Hulman has a great collection of artwork and a beautiful campus to enjoy.

Here's my two cents on the show, for what it's worth...

7/19/17
         This group of work features sentimental subjects that have become increasingly prevalent in my paintings; my wife, my grandparents, my home, and my travels.  My wife, our beloved pets, and I live in the house my grandparents built in Bloomfield, Indiana.   
         My grandparents died within a few months of one another.  My grandmother was a school teacher for most of her life.  My grandfather was an affable, but stubborn mule of a man.  They fell in love when they were young and grew old together.  As their health faded and they were forced to seek treatment in different facilities, it became obvious they struggled living without one another.  My grandfather had Alzheimer’s and forgot most things, except how much he missed my grandmother.  
          In recent years, I’ve been able to travel a great deal.  While the search for excitement and new subjects is a thrill, being away from home has had a lasting impact on my views of life here in Indiana.  As I learned with my grandparents in their final years, I continue to discover through my own travels that defining what you love is often dependent upon finding what you can’t live without.  As much as I enjoy adventure, I love returning home.
          I do not believe a painting can be measured as an artwork based solely on how well it’s painted and regardless of what is painted.  A great painting about nothing is just decoration.  At the risk of being overly sentimental, I continue to find the greatest inspiration in searching for art in the people, places, and events closest to me.  

Twenty Four Seven

"South of Town, 2am"

oil on canvas

12" x 24"

I have a show up at the Shawnee Theatre in Bloomfield, Indiana.  If you want to go see a good performance and walk past a few paintings on your way in and out, stop in this weekend.  The show features local scenes, including the one above...as you leave the parking lot, look to your left. 

#Believe Me

#Believe Me

oil on canvas

16" x 48"

I don't tweet.  But if I did, I know what I'd do with this painting.  Help yourself.

Still Afloat

"Makahmaid"

oil on canvas

12" x 12"

This is a treaty boat on the Makah Reservation in Neah Bay, the Olympic Peninsula, Washington.  The boats docked at Neah Bay look like they could sink at any moment, but evidently, they're all still being used for fishing.  The "Makahmaid" is the oldest, and among the only surviving, fishing boats given to the Makah tribe in the 1850's in exchange for almost all of their land.  So, if you visit the northwestern-most place in the lower 48, keep your eye out for the friendly fisherman in the floating trash can who's milking the most out of a 160-year-old rotten deal.  Per usual, I think there might be some type of irony at play that I've yet to make sense of.

See that shadow on the back of the boat?  That's this painting, my upper torso, and my big head with a wide brimmed hat.  How about that...

Sometimes I Sometimes

For anyone out there that might actually like to hear me talk about painting...

Here's what two hours on a Saturday afternoon looks like.  I painted these pictures while passing the time between dips in the swimming pool.  They aren't much, but these are the types of paintings I love doing...I'm sentimental some of the time.  I'm also pretty sporadic in my productivity.  There are times when I really enjoy coming home and working with some type of regularity.  Those times come in between longer stints of relative laxness.  I've got some shows coming up, which means I'll be painting more than usual, and I'm looking forward to it.  I'm also looking forward to not painting for a while after the pictures are delivered.  What will I do?  Practice my free throws and ball handling, most likely. 

Sometime in the next few weeks, few months, or few years, I'll be updating my website a bit.  That means some of the paintings featured online will be replaced with newer work.  I'm not a salesman, but some of you might be interested in perusing www.legrandartstudio.com for some pictures, as they'll be more difficult to track down after they leave the website.  Find something you like, get in touch via wyattlegrand@gmail.com, and I'll get back to you with some fine prices.  

You know, a $50 shirt at Banana Republic is probably worth every bit of that $50.  While it's displayed on the mannequin in the window, $50 is a bargain, because you know if you don't buy it, someone else will.  Nothing's worse that seeing somebody in the super trendy shirt that should've been yours.  Usually, all the shirts in the window sell out.  Now, if for some odd reason, one of the window shirts doesn't sell, you'll probably find it a couple weeks later with a 25% off tag on a hanger behind something trendier.  And what if nobody happens to stumble across that incredible deal?  Well, a week later, you can most likely walk to the very back of the store and find the shirt mixed in with dozens of other post-mannequin worn masterpieces with a bright orange $15 sticker on the sleeve.  And every once in a while, because of some fluke in the taste of the shirt-wearing majority, a truly incredible shirt will slip through the consumer cracks and find itself at the Banana Republic Outlet.  Like a needle in a stack of dirty laundry, your new favorite shirt is waiting for you, just a few weeks after it's reveal as the hippest of hip...all you have to do is search a little and visit the fitting room.  When all is said and done, you buy a $50 shirt for ten bucks.  Banana Republic won't tell your friends you got a steal of a deal.  Your friends will be envious of your fashion sensibility.  You win.  And if your tastes in collared, button-downs changes, or your gut grows faster than the color fades, you can always sell it to Plato's Closet for a five dollar bill.

Artists don't bargain.  Artwork is worth whatever an artist says it's worth.  The value of a piece of art, well, that's determined by something else entirely, isn't it?  Luckily for me, I just paint pictures and let painted picture collectors figure everything out for me.  The back of the store is at www.legrandartstudio.com.  Please, scan your items at wyattlegrand@gmail.com.  Eat your heart out, Eric Rhoads.

FYI

I didn't write this, but thought I should share it.  I love a good salad and this really hit home for me.  At first, I didn't want to take him seriously, but I checked his Twitter and he really does have a lot of followers.  


People,

Yesterday, I consumed a cobb salad at my favorite local restaurant.  The salad was alright...just okay, really.  It was not a great salad.  The lady at the counter promised me it was a great salad.  We have been wronged, people. 

I don't like their cobb salads at all, actually...never did.  Their food is disgusting, unpalatable, disgusting and frankly, not fit for human consumption.  In fact, my dog eats better food.  They're very ugly people, really.  Believe me, I could prepare a better meal for you.  My cobb salad would be so much better, it would get so much better reviews, you wouldn't believe it.  Believe me, I'm a smart guy, and the salads at this restaurant have awful reviews.  It's a pity, really.  All of their food comes from China actually...I know it.  And I hate that.  I love Chinese people.  The real problem here, people, is the woman that served me my salad.  The people at this restaurant really should look into getting some makeup or something.  Believe me....I didn't even eat the salad because this woman was so ugly.  A disgusting beast.  But really, I love women and I'm so good to them.  I've got great respect for them and you know what?  They like me.  Why wouldn't they like me?  I'm a great guy, actually.  You know, we should board-up that restaurant so they can't serve us their food anymore.  We can make our own salads anyway, people.  I'm planning on building the most bestest, incredible, biggest phenomenal cobb salad restaurant you've ever seen.  Believe me...it's going to be the best.  And when you eat my salad you'll be able to tell your loved ones that they can sleep comfortably, because I was right.  Believe me, I'm not a dumb guy, and I absolutely cherish all women and I think they're great, but that salad was horrible.  Did you know the Chinese created global warming to make manufacturing in the U.S. unable to compete?  You really should try my salad, it's far better than anything else you've had, believe me.  And you know what, people, some people think I'm really smart.  But you know what?  Guess what?  Some people think I'm really, really, really smart.  

I went ahead and tweeted a video of me at the batting cages as a young man.  I had my people edit it.  My people are the best people out there.  They replaced the baseballs with cobb salads from this disgusting restaurant.  Every time the machine throws a ball, I hit the salad and it goes everywhere.  I hit at least 100 salads.  Believe me, I know how to play baseball.  I used to be the best baseball player I know.  I am sure that everyone will love my video because of how disgusting those salads were and how good I hit them.  It will get way more hits on Twitter.  I have more followers on Twitter than Beyonce.  Believe me, I'm really popular on Twitter.  

- @Richard P. Fumple

30 Days in a Van

So, I didn't actually quit painting, or golfing.  I've never been golfing.  I'd like to go golfing, but I have no idea how that works.  I can mini-putt with the best of them though...

I spent the last month on a roadtrip with a friend of mine.  It was a "seat of the pants" experience that will go down in history as one of the wildest adventures two picture painters from Indiana ever lived through.  I might be exaggerating, but I promise, not by much.  We fought off wild animals, sampled the finest gas station cuisine, exchanged gifts with ex-serial killers, barely escaped incarceration at customs, and drove a broken van 12,000 miles with no air conditioning.  We traveled through 11 states, 2 provinces, and 1 territory in search of subject matter.  We painted well over 100 pictures of mountains, glaciers, waterfalls, waves, forests, old boats, old cars, trashcans, campsites, statues, and volcanic activity.  Holy moly, it was a trip.  

I could go on and on, but I won't.  I'll let the stories come about as they may...I'll keep the rest for myself.  But if you're curious, here's an abbreviated list of the places we traveled to and through...

Badlands National Park, Black Hills National Forest, Mount Rushmore, The Crazy Horse Monument, Thunder Basin National Grassland, Boysen State Park, Shoshone National Forest, Jackson Hole, Grand Teton National Park, Yellowstone National Park, Custer Gallatin National Forest, Flathead National Forest, Blackfeet Indiana Reservation, Glacier National Park, Bow Valley Provincial Park, Banff National Park, Lake Louise, Jasper National Park, Columbia Icefields, BC Highway 37 and the Alaskan Highway, The Yukon, Johnson's Crossing, Kuane National Park, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Chugach State Park and National Forest, Homer, Denali National Park, Anchorage, Hell's Gate, Port Angeles, Olympic National Park, Neah Bay and the Makah Indian Reservation, Ruby Beach, Mt. Ranier National Park, Yakama Indian Reservation, Big Hat State Park, Sprague, C'oeur d'Alene and Lolo National Forests, the Lucky Friday Silver Mine, and a bunch of stuff in between. 

If you make it to the end of the road in Homer, Alaska, look for our dollar bill at the Salty Dawg.  

Par

That's it.  I'm done.  I've swung my last nine iron.  I quit.  
Don't tell anyone.

Where are my brushes?  I'm going painting.