You Can't Go Home

11x14, acrylic on canvas panel, © 2020

Collection of the Artist

When I was a young person, I would visit a friend on his ranch in Idaho. He lived across the way from his grandfather's house, which this is. I was stricken by the beauty of the place. It seemed placid and cool. There were big cottonwood trees behind the house or to the left which shaded the yard. It had a big front yard in which a band of the Blackfoot Tribe would come and camp. On one occasion we went out to the teepees that were in the front yard, and the women took a piece of paper and drew around my brother's hands and around my feet. In about a week we went back and picked up leather gloves with a beaded gauntlet and moccasins with some beaded decoration. The gloves were well used and are gone, but the moccasins I still have in a shadow box in my studio.

    My brother and I went back to the area on a nostalgia trip and it was sad to see the house now. I realized some things are better to remember how they were and not how they are, because you can't go home and find that nothing has changed.

Here is the shadow box with the moccasins, a tomahawk (made in Japan) that I purchased at the Old Faithful Lodge in Yellowstone Park, an arrow head that my brother found, and a dream catcher made by the woman that put together the box for me. 

8-Mile Fishing Trip

21x25.75 acrylic on silk canvas, © 2019

Collection of the Artist

For several years I've been asked to paint a "family history" picture, and they may be seen as you peruse the Blog. This is the last one that was requested by my wife's sister, who passed shortly after its completion. It is a composite of an old photograph and discussions with my brother-in-law (seen behind his father) near the beaver dams along the 8-mile stream. This was a frequent location for the family to go on a fishing outing.

  As I walked the stream looking for a spot that might serve as an appropriate location, I came upon this area where I could imagine a father and son fishing—water, crystal clear and cold as it came out of the mountains above. The small black and white photo of a similar event was not  as clear or as telling as what I would wish, but I believe that the result of the interpretation of, research of place, and attire helped make it a successful painting.

 

Waiting for the Shepherd

16x20 acrylic on panel, © 2019

Private Collection

On a trip to Idaho we were on some back roads when a pastoral scene struck me. It was sheep grazing with their heads down tending to the moment. I thought of the metaphor of us who are working everyday with our heads down doing the best we can at the moment. The title came to me of waiting for the shepherd to come and take His sheep into the sheep fold for the night.

    A friend saw the painting in an exhibit and said that it reminded him of his grandfather who ran some sheep. He wanted an alteration to make it even more meaningful. So I adjusted the composition to incorporate the head of his grandfather. I drew a picture of his grandfather and made a copy of it and lifted the pigment from the paper, painted the back like you would a cartoon cell, and pasted it on the picture and integrated into the composition. I'll look for a picture of that finished piece, so check back, and I'll see if I can post that also.

Sketch of Grandpa © 2020

Private Collection

Since I addressed some of what went on to obtain the completed work, I thought I would share the drawing that I did for the finished work.

 

Mardean with Izatt Homestead Cabin, Thatcher

8x10 oil on canvas panel, © 2017

Collection of the Artist

One summer day in 1970 I went on an excursion with Mardean Izatt to Charles Izatt's homestead cabin in Thatcher, Idaho. I painted the larger work of the cabin on the spot, but years later I painted this from a photo of Mardean in front of her father's cabin. It was a special time and a moment for both of us. She never saw this painting, but her daughter wanted it for her posterity.

Mardean and the Big White House

5x7 oil on canvas panel © 2017

Collection of the Artist

Mardean Izatt as a two year old in front of the Big White House by the Side of the Road, in Thatcher, Idaho. Wind was blowing her tunic up.

 

Mowing the Yard

16x20 acrylic on canvas, © 2015
 Private Collection

The man is resolved to accomplish a menial task. It is early afternoon, and the day’s work started with milking at 5 a.m. Now there is a moment to relax and let the horses do their job.

    Mowing the yard is a thankless task that must be done. Tired from the day, the man slumps on the mowing machine and lets the cleats of the wheels jostle him as they hit the hard ground and his thoughts turn to family and the supper that awaits at the end of the day. …or he may think of nothing at all, numbed by the forward movement of the mower and the relentless noise of the cutters—just relax and get this job done.

    The man is Charles Izatt; the place is his ranch in Thatcher, Idaho. The connection is that he is my wife's grandfather.

Parley's Pride

18x24 Acrylic on panel, © 2014
Private Collection

There are always firsts. This was a first for horses.  Well, almost a first. I sat by Antonio, a Native American, in third grade. He was great at drawing horses, and I always envied his ability.  Later I entered a "contest" on the "Sheriff Dan Show" and won a sewing machine for my grandmother. But I'll not count those as horses that would compare with this endeavor.  After watching horse pulls for hours, researching horse anatomy, and harnesses, I made the attempt. Dress harnesses are not the run of the mill harness, as they are much fancier and for show.
    I have always admired horses, even before the third grade.  Draft horses are powerful athletes and responsive to the occasion and the teamster. These horses have "performed" and are now pulling the owner, Parley, around the arena which has the purpose of settling them down after the Adrenalin rush of the pull. You can see the power in the arms of the man and can hear the loud speaker host announce the next event.  What a great day for a pull.
    The challenge of the painting was to have the sense of place not take away from the horses and man. They must remain supporting characters in the display—seeing into shadows and feeling the power and desire of the horse and master, so that the spirit of the event is present.

    The meaning of the painting is expressed best here:

From “Why I don’t call myself a ‘Mormon feminist,’” Deseret News, March 26, 2015 

…“Marriage in the temple was another reminder that we can’t receive every celestial blessing on our own. My new vulnerability was ultimately like closing the proverbial umbrella to receive a shower of heavenly blessings that sometimes even drenched and always sustained. 

    “Temple ordinances taught me that my husband needed me, and I needed him, and we both needed the Savior to succeed. Those truths parallel to daily drudgeries as well. When we don’t work as a team and when we don’t turn to God for guidance, our finances are a mess, we are less-than-our best in our careers and our children exploit any semblance of a divide. The opposite has proven to be true—not any easier, but true, nonetheless. 

    “My wise father grew up on a farm in southeastern Idaho where his father trained Clydesdale horses. His favorite parable for marriage is a team of horses that can’t move forward unless they are walking side-by-side and equally yoked. He also frequently counseled me, and many others, that marriage isn’t 50/50, but each must give a 100 percent in order to succeed. 

    “Last Christmas, my dad commissioned a painting of his father holding the reins of his draft horses during a horse-pulling competition at the fairgrounds. Every time I walk past the print my parents gave each of their children, I remember to share the yoke. But I’m also reminded how the Savior holds the reins and gives us gentle reminders when we stray from a progressive path.” —Stacie Duce (Parley's granddaughter) 

Arco Truck

8x10 acrylic on canvas, © 2010 

Collection of the Artist 

Art shows are motivational. In my case the Winter Art Show of Omaha Artists Inc. came up with the small-art format—two adjacent dimensions could not be over 18 inches. Well, we had taken a trip to Arco, ID two years ago, and I took a photo that I used as reference material on a friend's ranch. I decided that it would work into a nice composition, so I painted it and entered it into the show a few days later.

My Youth

16x20, acrylic on canvas, © 2000

Collection of the Artist 

Once in awhile inspiration comes from the dim recesses of the mind. This one came from a time our family went on a fishing trip to Henry's Lake. There were several photographs taken that day. I awoke one morning with the idea that I had to paint this piece. It is very autobiographical as I see myself shielded from the world and its entanglements that surround me. A great piece to bring to life.

Gem Valley Canal at Grace

16x20, acrylic on canvas, © 1990
Collection of the Artist

One fun thing that we did on our annual visits to Grace, Idaho to visit my in-laws was to walk up to the Canal and skip rocks from the wooden bridge that crossed the water. This little falls was over some lava rock within sight of the bridge.

When we went back in 2007, we found that the water had been re-channeled and the small falls no longer exist. I went to the middle where the falls had been and picked up a piece of black lava rock which is now in the rock garden around the fountain in our back yard.

My wife's mother was showing someone a picture of the painting, and the fellow wanted a copy. He had it blown up and hung on his wall. That spot was where he was baptized into the Church as a young person before they had fonts in buildings.

The Fishing Trip

11x14, acrylic on canvas, 1986 

Private Collection

This painting is a historical picture of my parents before they were married—that was taken when they were on a fishing trip in Idaho. It was a fun picture to see and was also one that my father enjoyed immensely.

The Milk Run in Gem Valley

11x14, acrylic on canvas, © 1985
Private Collection

This is a painting from an historical photograph of my wife's mother and her mother, Orpha Izatt, at a neighbor's ranch. It was a favorite of a niece, and she wanted it painted in color. It was a fun piece to paint—all the gray wood. I submitted it to the L. D. S. Church competition. It passed the first jury but did not make it to the final exhibit.

When I painted it, I had finished everything but the face of the woman. My wife was concerned that I would not make it right and spoil the painting. I really just painted my wife's portrait as she looks so similar to her grandmother, and it worked out okay.

Izatt Cabin

24x36, acrylic on canvas, © 1969

Private Collection

It was painted "en plein air" (outside) and finished in the studio. Because of the size of the work and the environmental difficulties, I could not finish it in the field. That day I got a serious sunburn as a result of painting at the elevation and in the bright sun. When I applied the paint, it would dry almost immediately due to the heat and lack of humidity in Idaho. It is a painting of the homestead cabin of Charles Izatt in Gem Valley, Idaho.