closer to who i am.


ART and FEAR. i love this book.

It's an old one, but it never stops inspiring. Art and Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking, written almost ten years ago by two guys who are teachers and working artists. In the introduction the first words are, "This is a book about making art, Ordinary art," and finishes with, "It is about finding your own work." Well I was sold from the first moment I read this. This book sits by my bedside. I have picked it up more times than I can count, and it has never failed to remind me that those of us who make art, are on similar paths of ups and downs, starting and stopping, clarity and confusion. This is not a self-help book as it may sound. This isn't therapy. It is practical, real-life observations on the artmaking process, why it gets made and why it does not. If you are human, and you make anything, this one belongs on your bookshelf.


In the upcoming spring issue of butterflies and anvils, I write an article about repeating symbols in our work, and how they can inform us if we are paying attention. Once again this year I took part in the On Deck Art Auction to raise money for the Montana Skate Park Association. And lo and behold, some familiar symbols emerged on the new deck, titled circle haiku. Thanks to Andy Kemmis for the photograph of my deck this year. Good luck and thanks for the opportunity to be a part of a great event!

Art Auction. May 21st.
Art Opening. May 6th.
The Brink Gallery.


'don't leave my hyperheart alone'...the national.


sneak peek. butterflies and anvils featured artist 
tom condon. hear his inspiring story and check out his beautiful work. spring issue release mid-May. winter issues still available. click on red Magcloud button below to check it out! 

thanks for the support from all the current readers! 
so much more to come!

talking with you.
about the state of the world.
and where we fit in.
crunching leaves...

moving through. simply.

airplane graveyard.
you stand among the ruins.
delicate and hopeful and young. busted up fuselage. your dress so fitted and pressed.
motionless. burned out wings.
not knowing if the remains are yours.
injured girl.
rusting yellow metal in heaps. lush green grass grows around you. as the bright country sun lights up your hair.
sun flare obscures your face and shoulder.
but you remain.
a giant among the battered pieces.
of this airplane graveyard.
and your world.

once we were best friends. without even knowing.
it's your turn to turn off the light.

once we were alike. without even knowing.
watching thunderstorms on the patio.

once we were confidantes. without even knowing.
we didn’t know what secrets were.

once we were happy. without even knowing.
that goodness meant we were together.

. you whispered. i heard it. i am sure.

grow. i whispered back. on the breeze that blew between us.

grow. i feel it. but i sit here in defiance.

grow. you know it. and you thrust out your shoots, without intention.

grow. i want it. but i am swimming in the thickest sea.

grow. you must. so you reach through the power lines for your sky.

grow. i can. but these tendrils hold me to this merciless earth.

grow. you will. and i’ll look for shelter below you.

grow. i will. but first let me rest my body against you.

grow. you have. and i cannot imagine this world without you.

grow. i am trying. but i cannot keep up with you.

grow. you show me. let me learn from your strength.

grow. i whispered. did i hear it? i am sure.