It took me two years of being a full-time artist to understand how a single painting could span multiple years. Sure, some large-scale works just take time. Others, like in the case of the Metropolitan Museum of Art — I simply looked at it for 18 months and simply determined it was finished. After the jump, the full process as written in 2009.

After reviewing a few possible vantage points, I decided on 82nd and 5th right behind the intersection (to miss as much of the eventually parked traffic as possible.)

Began by feeling out the picture, I want this canvas to be nearly straight-on, complimenting the Guggenheim painting.

There is something that feels so healthy when using a green under drawing, it reminds me of Hawaii.

For some reason, despite the fact this is a completely different building, I can’t shake feeling the Ghostbusters when I am looking at The MET. Riddle me this Batman.

It was important to capture the Francis Bacon banner, to date the painting appropriately.

Like a fleeting moment of good weather this summer, capturing a hot dog stand in one place can be mission impossible.

Without fail, if I am drawing on a canvas with a Sharpie, I will have approximately 2-4 people stop by in one hour. The minute my brush hits the canvas, I will see 10-15 people, minimum. There is some sort of fascination the general public has with the act of painting.

Two constants in this series thus far: street vendors with umbrellas and traffic lights. Also, both pictures are museums.

Wash! For some reason, this canvas was telling me to give it a yellow-orange wash.

In a subtle process shout to my favorite maligned sporting teams, I channeled the Met’s and Islander‘s colors to begin phase two.

Here is where the painting finished after day one. Carrying around a picture at this stage draws 90% stares of disgust/disinterest – I am trying to get down to the psychology of the general public witnessing a painting in steps. Perhaps it is one of those things patrons prefer to postulate when a painting is finished, as opposed to witnessing each step?

If you have ever taken a single art class, you will know the haunting phrase “work the whole canvas at the same time.” This is a strange concept, particularly if you are painting with a small brush – however, a valuable gem I have embraced increasingly over the years. If you obsess over one stroke, you are setting yourself up for artistic disaster.

With the lights and darks generally blocked out, it is starting to make sense. At around this stage, I had a gentleman stop by who had seen me start the canvas the previous day – it’s nice to have repeat visitors noticing the progress.

Still trying to make sense of the overall composition, the level of detail and how it all relates.

Sometimes it is nice to take a break from drawing round two, and add some red. Mmmmm…. red.

Painting is an interesting career. People will walk by, and mid stroke ask you “how much will you be selling this for?” It’s not quite the equivalent of walking into an attorney’s office and asking someone their hourly rate and how much they make for a salary, but there is something about it that I find strange.

And here is where it is for now. I am planning on getting back to business this afternoon, stay tuned for the next update.

Painting steps is the artistic equivalent of filling out TPS reports.

Starting to get the building grounded, the orange-yellow under painting is nearly gone.

At this point, I received a surprise visit from Max, who was busy painting a portrait of some guy he has never met.

Right around this time I realized the moving light was creating multiple shadow angles – so I decided to put some final strokes on the canvas for the day and focus on creating the best sense of light at one time.

The hot dog stand hasn’t been in the same place twice since this piece began. This doesn’t matter of course, since 99.99% of all paintings are capturing moments that never actually existed. If you want to have your ear bruised, ask me more about this concept over a few beers.

Nearly there… I wonder, assuming artists live in purgatory, if Francis Bacon is checking out his retrospective?

Here it is after day three. I am not sure how detailed I am going to get with this puppy – stay tuned for more updates.

And so, my first multi-year painting: from 2009-2011. Distance brings clarity.