douglas brent smith

  Do The Math -- pencil sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 20 October, 1999.  Is it odd that I don't usually draw in pencil? There is so much more opportunity to make changes in pencil, both additions and subtractions. Somehow, though, ink has usually been my choice. I think it might have something to do with contrast. For this rendering I increased the contrast in the file and saturation to bring the drawing out more. I also did what I could to minimize the notebook lines, even covering over the holes and cropping beyond the wire binding.  I'm not sure what my head was thinking at the time -- we were shopping for a car to replace the Chevy Cavalier that "drowned" in a storm. 

  The Mysteries of Love -- painting by Douglas Brent Smith, acrylic, 14 x 18, painted at 2065 Pennington Road, Ewing Township, NJ, not dated.

  The Towers of Vettunder - painting by Douglas Brent Smith, acrylic. This one feels like another cover to a science fiction novel. In the 70's I might have tried to write that book. Maybe it's not too late. 

  The Insecure Plumber -- painting by Douglas Brent Smith, acrylic, 16 x 20, December 1976. As I photo these paintings the change in the light delights me. So much depends on how you look at things, how long you look at things, in what light, in what mood...it brings art even more alive. I didn't say it was good art, just delightful art. Only you can decide if it's good (to you). I have not painted like this in years. Perhaps someday I will again.

One More Cosmic Landscape -- painting by Douglas Brent Smith, acrylic, 12 x 16, December 1973. Here are two previous views of the same painting, photos that are at an angle. Discards, sure, but also interesting:   One More Cosmic Landscape -- painting by Douglas Brent Smith, acrylic, 12 x 16, December 1973. Here's a cropped photo of the same painting. I couldn't figure out how to rotate it but I like seeing it at this angle. 

  With Every Available Device -- painting by Douglas Brent Smith, December 1976. This is another of the series of acrylic paintings that I did in Oak Lawn, IL, living with Mom and Jack for a brief few months. My favorite art movement is surrealism, and this one clearly emulates the work of the surrealists, in particular Yves Tanguy .  When I moved from Colorado to Newtown in 2016 I threw away a number of my paintings, many from this period of time. I did not like them enough to keep them, I guess although I feel some regret at heaving them, one can't save everything and I live in an apartment that's about 600 square feet. No real storage room. This one survived the cut.  

 87th Place Oak Lawn, Ilinois -- painting by Douglas Brent Smith, 1977. I lived with my mother for a brief time in 1977. My girlfriend at the time, Annie, wanted to escape herself to Florida (haven't seen her since) and so she plotted with my mom for me to move to Oak Lawn. The first gift my mom gave me there was a blue T-shirt that said "Wellinthehellis Oak Lawn, IL?".  Jack, Mom's husband, was mostly on the road working but when he was home he'd often give mom a hard time so she wanted me there to calm things down. Jack and I got along great but he was an alcoholic and would hit mom -- but not when I was there, which was why I was there.  After I returned to New Jersey Mom would eventually have Jack arrested and Jack straightened up. He stopped drinking. He became safe and loving. They had some happy years together. This painting is a self-portrait. I was blessed with lots of time so I painted. Gosh, how I loved painting. I used acrylics because they dried fast....

  This could be a first draft. It's a doodle becoming something. We might need to stare at it for awhile to determine what it wants to become. It could be done. It could be changing. I scanned this present state since once it is changed (if it is changed) the original will stop existing.  "Do you like it?" "I think so. Enough not to destroy it." "Fair enough." Jump Close - sketch by douglas brent smith, March, 2026 Not done yet... I played with this a bit more. Let's call this one "Jump Closer" (3 April 2026) and watch it change. When I was a child I remember a feature in the Sunday newspaper funnies -- it was either in the Philadelphia Bulletin or the Philadelphia Inquirer. If it was in the Bulletin, I read the whole paper at home because we subscribed. If it was in the Inquirer, I read it at Grandmom and Grandpop Smith's house. We went there every Sunday, without fail, after church and after our early dinner.  I treasured those Sund...

  Still Going Up? -- mixed media, collage by douglas brent smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress. NOTES: Usually, I crop the spiral binding out of the picture. This time I decided to leave it in and show the whole page. It provides some idea of what each of the journals from this period are like. Big pages and many of them. The clip art that makes guest appearances is primitive, sure, but maybe a little charming, too?

  Going Up? collage, mixed media by douglas brent smith, from Journal #33, Life In Progress, 1998

  Drive Dougie Drive - mixed media, collage by douglas brent smith, 1998

  the horse got free in a galloping hurry needed something to read and a tall cup of milk I did post this earlier under the title "Who Let the Horse In." Here it is again.  Horse Named Hannah -- sketch by douglas brent smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

if you want to hear the truth    ask a child    before an institution     pinches their constitution     blurring all intuition     leaving the squared off     from the perfectly rounded whole     if you want to stay honest     raise a child     listen like a student     trust as a friend     follow with enthusiasm     the perfectly rounded sound     of truth     if you want to grow     learn from a child      -- doug smith 4/21/1988.  

  What color would you say that rose is? My default is red, but it could be many other colors. Perhaps orange. Even yellow is possible. What color do you see? "But I don't see any color, Doug -- it's in black and white." "Is it? Is it really?" "Why did you keep using that clip art you created of the circle arrow?" "Must have liked it." "I wouldn't call this a collage, would you?" "Nah, just mixed media. Fun, though." "Maybe." Competitive Reflex - mixed media sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life in Progress

  Can you hear it? Bass, guitar, drums? Or could it be Bass clarinet, flute, and tambourine? Maybe accordion, piano, and trumpet? The band is on the rise, the music is in your head, and the music is exquisite. Band on the Rise - sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

  it was a fortune in facts tested against emotions processes swirling we sat by the fire mumbling vague traces of truisms we did not believe there was a time when a fact was a fact where is that now? Contrary Facts - collage, mixed media sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, from Journal #33, Life In Progress, 1998

  Man with Three Hands - mixed media collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

  An unusual feature of this collage is that it is assembled in landscape mode instead of portrait. It feels more informal than usual for me, also.  Lift and Separate - collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

  It's a wonderful sensation  to ride a horse I was so small the horse so large calm, under control, yet understanding that I was not under control we were equal partners on the horse's terms and when the barn came up it was time to go home so galloping we did Who Let the Horse In? - sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress.

  Kiss Me Goodnight -- sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress. This first version is a "cleaned-up" and censored scan. The original (but still censored) scan is below, with the notebook paper lines visible. Which one is better? I don't know.  I think maybe the original (still censored) scan. Let's just get bold enough and not censor it. I'd tabled a matching piece of paper in the upper right hand corner. Now, in the scan below, I have restored the sketch to its original form, including the bit of journal writing in the upper right hand corner. 

  We didn't have a garage, our neighbors, the Amy's did. Reverend Amy and his family lived next door. That is me sitting on the Chevy, wearing a Davy Crocket hat. I was a big Davy Crocket fan and had the theme song on a yellow 45 rpm record, which of course I sang to vigorously. What's your earliest memory from childhood? No Brain No Anxiety -- collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

  Whatever floats your boat matters. Send yourself on a journey unique to your character, special for your strengths, resilient to your challenges.  My dad once made a canoe. He carved it out of a single piece of wood. He told me that it floated, the way a canoe should, but it leaned to one side. I never got in that canoe but I did see it. It's a gift to be able to make things out of wood, even if the first time you try it comes out a little wabi sabi. Terra Cotta - collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

  People are distracted if you assemble an engine while you are making your presentation. Also, if you take photos of light posts and give them fancy names (like Howard Smith), or share tea with the ladies while the rest of the group stares in disbelief, feeling left out, feeling out of place. Is that the presentation that you intended? It wasn't easy to assemble a room filled with geniuses. Now what do you do? Bad Presentation Habits - collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

 One of a series of mostly black and white mixed media/collage pieces with a photo-copy base.  Here's the poem that is on the facing page in the journal: we're not perfect but we are trying trying to get along to talk to touch to see each other's                           point of view we're not perfect but we have a history that is wrapped in strands of perfect moments                         perfect steps                                             perfect strings of perfect love. 23 April 1998 Platform Flyer - mixed media sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress.

  "What kind of family is that?" "A family of crows perhaps. Or a family of artists in their own crow colony." "I do not think so." "Perhaps a family platform, off to a rocky start, dancing in the sun." "In the winter?" "And in the snow." "Oh." "How did family time go?" "Not so well." Family Time - sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress

  i follow the speed limit in my car but emotionally it's usually all going too fast getting where I'm heading just on time. How Fast Are You Going? collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997, from Journal #32, Secret Change Agent.

  find the light interview its meaning squeeze out your reaction one tear at a time touch the light the heat of the morning wondering why we were ever so young Just Another Squeeze Until The Light Is Interviewed - collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997, from Journal #32, p. 283, Secret Change Agent.

What is your closest thing to an inner sanctum, a place where you can hide away and be completely yourself? Imagine a text book in living creatively. Here's a page from that book, and like any great textbook, has a little insert for detail. Where is that detail? Somewhere in the rest of the picture. Detail: Inner Sanctum - mixed media sketch by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997, from Journal #32, Secret Change Agent.

  The actual collage is much sharper than this. The distortion comes from scanning a water-warped journal on the glass plate. Several of my journals sustained water damage during the Louisville, CO fire on Elm street in 2008. I did try to dry them out, with some mixed success, by spreading them out in the stead Colorado sunshine, on a trampoline that survived the fire. Forest Discovery - collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997, from Journal #32, Secret Change Agent.

Wrestle with this if you will. Honesty isn't always truthful, and truth isn't always honest -- combining the two is a delicate art seldom mastered. -- doug smith

It doesn't cost anything to be kind and the payoff is immeasurable. I haven't always made the kindest choice, but I'm trying now. How about you? -- doug smith  

  Cats delight me, as they seem to do this nice lady on the sofa. I assume she's nice because she's smiling. Does the whole room vibe 1990's? It was a great time to be alive, a great time to be working, a great time to be co-raising a family. What No Chips? Collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997, from Journal #32, Secret Change Agent

The purest art comes from those who avoid the smoothed out perfect ruts. -- Harry X. Tudas 

  When my brother Dave and I were quite young we both wanted to be spies. "The Man From Uncle" was a popular TV show and we never missed it. James Bond was also all the rage. We liked the gadgets, the exotic travels, the fast cars, all of the action. We didn't turn out to be spies of course (or did we?). Dave does his spying from heaven, and I decided long ago that spying was out of the question because torture could be involved. Also, art and education are more fun. Constructing Contemplation - collage by douglas brent smith, 19 October 1997, from Journal #32, Secret Change Agent

  A business call that takes too long. A meeting that's rambling. Waiting for the copy machine. There must have been times when an odd doodle showed up and grew into something collecting, something expressing. Here's an idea -- the next time you reach for your device to idly scroll, instead pick up a pen and some paper and doodle. It does not need to be anything at all. Doodle. Poke it. Prod it. Dress it up in your favorite doll house.  You will not have wasted your time. Think Tank Leakage - collage/mixed media/sketch by douglas brent smith, 1997.  From Journal #32, Secret Change Agent

  Even when I created this collage the source photo, the basis of the scene, is an old photo of a Child's Play performance. That's a distorted Victor Podagrosi in the left corner. I drew the halo because Victor had died about a year earlier than when I made this piece.  It's a fever dream to mash-up some original sketches with an actual CP performance. My world blended so well with that company.  Do you have a group of people you blend with just exactly right? I could feel that from the start with Victor and June and everyone who entered the company contributed to that superb blend.  Scene Change #42, collage, mixed media by doug smith, from Journal #32, Secret Change Agent

  If you were around in 1997, what do you remember most from that time? I mostly remember my little family, dedicated work, and occasional dances with the artist inside me. Like this doodle drawing.  I added the hat to the little man pointing, just today, because he oddly resembled someone in the news who I'd rather not feature.  The people I knew best in 1997 are still precious to me. Keep your loved ones close. One Great Shining Moment - sketch by douglas brent smith, 1997. From Journal #32, Secret Change Agent. 

  Even when we're lost there is a pattern, discoverable, discernible, mysterious. Are we being led thru that pattern, or are we creating that pattern? How can we know where we're supposed to go if we are supposed to go anywhere. Maybe it's all just happening and we are not responsible for twists, turns, and new lessons to learn. Amazed - mixed media collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1998, from Journal #33, Life In Progress.

  "Must be January." "Yep." "That's when you work on and think about collages the most." "Correct." "Good times." "Indeed." I look out the window. Snow. Not Chicago level snow, but still snow. Colder than usual. Later than usual. If life is a collage, the picture is still forming. It will be there even when we're not looking. Even when we're not there." Awkward Climb -- collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997

  Invite The Whole Crowd - collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997

  "We dance everywhere," she said, "even supermarkets." "Especially supermarkets." "When the music is right." "And here we are." Dance, my friend, please do dance. dance often dance always dance, dance across the ages - sketch by Douglas Brent Smith.

These days we have less time to think about things but more things we need to think about. Think. -- doug smith 

  As I write this, the mini-van has become less of a thing, much less popular than they were in 1997 and before. I've owned a Dodge Grand Caravan (nice but expensive to repair and it needed many repairs) and smaller cars ever since.  There are places where mini-vans still prevail, such as Lakewood, NJ where many families have many children. The biggest lack in a min-vans is the lack of all-wheel drive. Mine often got stuck in snow going uphill coming home from Fort Washington, PA.  This red one is dominating this planet, a long way from home. Van Planet - collage by Douglas Brent Smith, 1997

 "You've got to have a healthy respect for danger," she said, "there are no guardrails." "Indeed. Still, I'd feel better in a smaller car." "Going up was easier than going down. We could wear out our brakes if we're not careful." "Oh, do please be careful." "Hold onto your hat." "Fasten your seatbelt." "Turn on the radio." Sliding for the Sake of Extremes