One of my favorite Van Gogh paintings.
Van Gogh Boots
Tag: Painting
Drawing for Ceramic Pitcher
Recent Totem Paintings
My Crowded Fireplace Mantle
Sculptures, pottery, paintings, and drawings on my living room fireplace mantle.
Left to Right:
Sculptural Teapot Woman blog.danielharrismusic.com/recent-ceramic-piece/
Flagon blog.danielharrismusic.com/fully-fired-flagon/
Sculptural Teapot Sculptural Teapot blog.danielharrismusic.com/porcelain-teapot/
Three Masted Bark flic.kr/p/2ey7Xnq
Flight flic.kr/p/RTMzi2
The Cry flic.kr/p/2hRqBVb
Solitude flic.kr/p/2g9gyS4
Dragon flic.kr/p/2g9K89c
Last Man Standing flic.kr/p/2fFvbAJ
Achilles flic.kr/p/258pnxi
Gryphon Teapot flic.kr/p/2n6mbr4
The Cry Bronze blog.danielharrismusic.com/the-cry/
Against the Wall
Flagon Paint Schema (not posted)
Swimming Dragon Paint Schema flic.kr/p/2kAoqea
Swimming Dragon flic.kr/p/2nAzf6u
Gryphon Porcelain Teapot
High-fire porcelain teapot. Original design, hand-built, and painted with a dimpled surface texture.
Mask as Self Portrait
Porcelain painted self-portrait mask. All hand made, designed and painted by D.R. Harris
Acrylic Paintings
Night Book
Artist’s Note
The Night Book is a folio of mixed-media paintings: pencil, ink, watercolor, Aquarelle pencil & acrylic. The paintings began as pencil, later ink, drawings made in my bedside Moleskine and Stillman & Birn sketchbooks while in that zone between wakefulness and sleep, A world devoid of reason but rich in images: half-formed, unrelated, surreal, erotic, even terrifying. A critic likened my phantasmagoric paintings to graphic poetry. Inspiration for the Night Book project came from Goya’s Los Caprichos (1799), and from François Desprez’s (1655) and Gustave Doré’s (1854) illustrations for Rabelais’s Pantagruel (1655), in my novel, The Nude Pianist (Fictionaut, 2016), a few of these paintings appear as the work of Francesco Martinelli.
All these drawings are protected by International Copyright. Click on the paintings to enlarge.
Three Acrylic Abstracts
15 Years Ago: September 11, 2001, 10:30 a.m. Varick Street
Fifteen years ago, my wife and I watched planes fly into the World Trade Center from our Park Slope, Brooklyn apartment. We spent most of the day assisting refugees from lower Manhattan trudging past our building. The image of people fleeing the collapsing North Tower remained in my head.