I get asked all the time what are my paintings "of"?  Well heck, I don't know.  I don't like labels, but the closest handle you could put on my work is probably "abstract expressionism" (whatever that is), and it still wouldn't be quite right either (sort of like the art?).  I just start painting, and let something respond in me to the line, shape, color, and such; guided by what training, knowledge, and experience I have.

Sometimes I think of myself painting a process, like electricity or some microscopic biological process, rather than an object.  I like painting abstractly for several reasons.  For one, I don't see the point in painting something that you already know what it's going to look like (at least in some sort of general way if it's representative in any manner).  I love the development; the unfolding of the work as you go along, that can (and often does) take you to places you would not have thought to go to (or indeed, even knew existed) by working at "representing" something.

For another, working in a purely abstract manner allows you to more fully explore the work without the restrictions of representation.  You are free to try anything ... any shape, color, whatever you can think of ... because you don't know what you're painting anyway.  I guess I appreciate the duality of it.  The intellectualism of the "abstract" part, and the feeling and basic emotionalism of the "expressionism" part.

In some ways, my paintings are like those Rorschach tests that the psycho-babble folks are fond of. They reveal more about yourself than any content inherent in them.

A note on titles.  I hate titles.  Titles may be good for cataloging and identification, but they are also extremely limiting. They immediately start steering the mind as to "what" the painting depicts and how it should be experienced.  I only give these things titles because, as you know, when you have a file on a computer, you have to give it some kind of a distinctive name.  I name them early in the process (need a name by the first save to disk), and they can and do often change dramatically from the first efforts.  So don't put too much (read any) emphasis on a painting's title.  It generally signifies nothing.  The experience is visual, not textual.

Therese is working on her text.  (I'll post it as soon as I get it ;-)

The art has been produced on a variety of machines and with a wide range of software. We've been learning to produce computer generated art since about 1981 on a computer you've never heard of, a Sinclair ZX80, with 1K of memory (that's right folks, a whopping 1K of RAM!)

Producing graphics on your computer pushes the limits of your machine more than anything (with the possible exception of cutting edge games).  You can use as much hardware muscle as you can afford, all the time; and the software continually demands more and more both from the hardware and from you.

I finally decided it was time to build my own computer, as I was not satisfied with any commercial off-the-shelf units available, and figured I could do as well as any of the build-it-for-you guys.   If you have any interest, check out the computer I built, the Superalien (named for the killer all-aluminum case) page for pics and info. (You'll have to use your browsers "Back" button to return to the Rancho Mondo website, as I made this an independent page in order to serve other purposes.)

About all I'll mention here is the maxim: You can never have too much memory.  Working on big hi-resolution graphics, using big bloated software, means you will use every bit of RAM your machine has.  Your machine might do the job, but I guarantee you, more memory will help it do it faster.  Also, don't even attempt to do computer graphics with a mouse.  That's like trying to draw with a rock.  You really need to use a graphics tablet, and a pressure-sensitive one is best.  And oh yeah, you'll probably go blind trying to do graphics on anything smaller than a 17" monitor.  You need the room for the image you're working on, and the myriad of palettes that most paint programs keep open.

We use a wide variety of software to produce our art.  You can not have too many graphics programs.  Even if they purport to do the same thing (say, apply a blur or some other filter), they will use different algorithms and methods to achieve the result.  And this can sometimes mean noticeable differences in the output.

We mostly use paint programs (and their plug-ins) because we consider ourselves digital painters and appreciate the output from these programs more than the drawing programs.   I consider the drawing programs better for certain types of illustration, although I'll concede that art can be produced from just about any tool, in the right hands.