"Of course he's beneath us, he's an actor!"*

These paintings are small, about 5" X 7" each, meant as sketches 

for a project to show the Ohio River and boats that 

cruised her currents, as well as of scenes and events. 

I made them a couple years ago, along with some drawings,

 adaptations of navigation charts to give the viewer a sense of 

the place, and an idea of where the scene was located.

When the first steamboat journeyed the river just over 

200 years ago on its way to New Orleans, it paddled through 

primeval forests, where flocks of birds, among them 

the now-extinct Passenger Pigeon and Carolina

Paroquette, were so thick they counted in the millions.

During migration, the flocks blackened the 

sky for days. Hunters did not have to aim their 

guns at the birds, but just fired into the air 

for them to fall to the ground, more dead birds

than they could eat. 

The Ohio River got its name from the Native American 

phrase meaning "beautiful river." It would be an odyssey 

to attempt to explore and to effectively portray 

its beauty. One worth doing, if I can find a way. 

*A line from one of my favorite movies, My Favorite Year, 

starring Peter O'Toole. I laugh and laugh every time

I see it. What has it got to do with the little paintings?

Nuthin', other than for the fact that so many people 
do not understand why I want to tell this story.

(But of course I'm beneath them, I'm an artist.) 
Those who bother to listen think 

it's a great story, and are enthralled.