every time i go back to figuration there is continuously a strong pull towards folklore and allegory. it really gives me the chance to get away from the sensitivity of my abstract work and focus on building an entire world. i’m obsessed with this sense of epicness and storytelling throughout my most recent paintings and it’s something i want to expand on even further. these long, intense 12 hour sessions give me satisfaction that i can’t get with smaller, faster pieces. it’s not always the prettiest or most decorative work, but it’s work that means the most to me as an artist.
East of Eden
72x50in.
Oil on Canvas
a part of the process i don’t talk about nearly enough is construction of the canvas. it is where every one of my paintings are started and is just as important as what gets painted on it. it’s taught me a lot about discipline and having an equal degree of craftsmanship and artistry. when i started making bigger work, i had no other option but to build from scratch. i made a lot of errors at first, but over time it’s become methodical and in some ways spiritual. because of the commitment to building, i automatically become attached to the canvas therefore affecting the outcome of the work. it’s something of a warm up to what eventually will go on there. i’ve mentioned before that i have a tendency to act with urgency, but that feeling really begins with physically making the work and looking at a blank canvas for a couple of days. there’s a certain tension that lives in that “in between moment” of blankness and the idea, and that tension is further amplified by having something on the line— i.e. time and labor. i enjoy sitting in that moment and really letting the pressure rise before making the first mark. constructing is what it means to be in dialogue with the work before it’s even an object.
The biggest challenge I face as an artist is deciding which lane to stay in. Some days I am so inspired by the light outside my window and other days I am inspired by things that I have never seen before. The Big Hunt was created from the latter. In my journey with paint, I have bounced between pure abstraction and the figure so much that I feel I need to land somewhere in between. I love my landscapes and fields of color, but I’m also guilty of loving a good nightmare. I love how freeing a giant canvas of color can make me feel, but I also love creating a world that can only come from me. I’m learning that my work as whole right now is about all of these themes and how they need to coexist with each other. That’s what The Big Hunt is really about: finding a place where two things can exist at the same time. A moment that is perpetually in motion, collapsing in on itself.
The Big Hunt
24x36in.
Oil on Canvas
as i’m becoming more interested in physical location with paint, i’ve also naturally been going back to the camera. i’ve said for a long time that it’s essential for any artist to go back and evaluate what they have already done. in doing that you might notice patterns in your work and how you choose to operate specific moments. these times of reflection are invaluable and will greatly influence how you think about your work and what you want to do next. i’ve spent a lot of time away from the camera the past year— at least publicly. in that time i’ve become obsessed with the freedom that paint allows me and have taken little time to give context to my entire decade of work as a whole. painting has become an extension of what the camera could already provide and as i continue to go deeper into my painting practice, my relationship to the still image is inevitably cycling back around.
across my time in different visual mediums there has always been an underlying sense of urgency. if there is no sense of urgency in the moment, then it will inevitably run away never again to be witnessed. this ingrained, default mode from the camera has certainly carried over to my painting work. i have noticed that my paintings don’t like to sit around untouched for too long and i attribute that to my time editing on the computer, or developing film directly after the shoot. once an idea lands, it’s very hard to step away from as the moment is too alive and too fresh to let go.
i have works that have taken over 100 hours to make (A Night in the Forest) and while there is satisfaction in that slow, meticulous process, i will always be married to the instant where everything can be beautifully held together. the fear of the moment passing before i’ve had time is terrifying and i believe it is the unifying thread throughout all of my work. the paintings that i can start and finish in one intense 12 hour burst give me greater satisfaction than one that takes me months. this is, in a sense, a “capture” of a physical place, emotional state, etc. it’s a revelation that emphasizes i’m no more a photographer than i am a painter.
all of this— only to find out i’m still in the darkroom.
a different type of work than what I’ve been doing and researching lately. sometimes I really enjoy being more cathartic with color and gesture on the canvas. there are many days when i crave letting loose and it makes the work really come to life. i started out painting purely abstract and can remember the feeling of the freedom that comes with it. this piece really brings me back to that place where all i want to focus on is color, sensation, and the physicality of making marks.
Available for purchase
Past Lives in Red
40x30in.
Oil on Canvas
Just in time for April 1st! Making this piece was literally a breath of fresh air. I started alla prima at a park near my house and then as the evening crept in I took it back and did some final tweaks. Working on location provided me enough time to get the necessary light for the painting, but when not being immersed it creates the opportunity to really expand the landscape from how the painting already feels. A lot of elements in the painting were not physically there and I added even more of this when I wasn’t on location— such as the fence. There something I love about making the landscape completely my own. Working in this environment brings me back to my roots as a photographer and physically being at the location, looking at the light, and getting a semi-immediate result. Having the easel puts me back in that moment while allowing me even more freedom to improvise and bring it to life in a completely different way. I’m finding that my paintings are in constant dialogue with my eye as a photographer. This style of work allows for a similar immediacy to the photograph— but accuracy here isn’t as important as what standing there felt like. What it looked like at 1pm and 5pm are two totally different feelings, as well as imagining that feeling away from the location.
Tuesday in the Park
18x24in.
Oil on Canvas
been a second since i’ve been in front of the cam— it’s okay i’m still alive. been hard at work getting the next series ready and getting the new spot organized. making progress but got some ways to go still. the plants make it🪴🪴
A recreation of Monet’s waterlilies at the Orangerie in France. Before we moved into the new spot, I knew I wanted a panorama view above the bed. It had to scream beauty and represent a bedroom well, so what option other than Monet? I’ve also been on a huge Chopin kick the past month so naturally I made this while listening to his renowned 21 Nocturnes. While the light in the center of the painting could represent various times of day, I feel it’s deep ultramarine signals the final light of day and the beginning of a full moon night. A stream glistening, pouring over slowly with chirping crickets and lush vegetation— the dissolve from sight to sound.
This painting features deep french ultramarine and cobalts along with vibrant emerald and viridian hues meant to present a calming, natural type of environment. Thick impasto give the work a sculptural quality and it’s palette mimics what the Impressionists used (excluding the long gone Lead White and Vermillion from Cinnabar). The work focuses on Monet’s technique from his later years and works mixing representation and abstraction together. Because of this, the work really shines from a distance. What appears as one thing from 10ft back, is actually something else when you’re only 2 ft back.
Coincidentally, for the film folks here, this painting is 84x36 which is the equivalent aspect ratio to ultra wide viewing (21:9), giving it a unique cinematic quality.
Waterlily No. 5: Nocturne
84x36in.
Oil on Canvas
2026
just got moved into the new spot with @racheldavs and loving the new living room setup with Flowers for Barb as the big anchor piece. still have a lot of work to do and plants to hang but this entrance is already too stunning to not share
one last chance to get some of my artwork at a great price. everything on my website is half off through sunday as i get ready to move. didn’t think i would ever say it but i have too much work for the new space i’m moving into and this was the best way to get some of it out. now is a great chance for people who’ve been interested to finally have something in their home or workspace. i’m very excited to get back to work in the new spot. website is at the link in the bio (peytondollar.co) or if you have any questions please dm me.
*frames are not included*
some install shots from yesterday’s yoga and wellness event with @ruakco at Prima in South Gulch. love seeing the big work in huge spaces like this as well as with with other artists’ work. super thankful for the team at Ruak for giving the work an opportunity to be shown!
more shots coming soon
Works Shown
Smitty
84x72in
Acrylic on Canvas
Let’s Save Tony Orlando’s House
30x40in.
Oil on Canvas
Waterlily No. 3
30x40in.
Oil on Canvas
Available for purchase at the link in bio*
