8x10 Acrylic on gesso primed panel
Frame Size: 14"x17"

Story behind the painting:

Wading only knee deep, because waist deep turned out to be a whole lot colder than we had planned without waders, I was just watching my nephew cast along a grass line, not paying much attention to my own lure. He was working a sand pocket on the far side, and I was more entertained watching him fish than actually fishing myself.

Then out of nowhere my rod just about flew out of my hands as my lure was annihilated and my reel started screaming like it was in pain. I looked over at Jacob and hollered, “Dang red bout ripped my rod outta my hands!”

After a solid little fight, we finally got a look at the fish. Its tail was absolutely unreal, bursting with bright, vibrant colors that shimmered and seemed to glow in the sunlight. After a few photos and a solid release, we went back to fishing, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that tail.

Later, back home, I tried to capture that moment the only way I know how, with acrylic paint. And that’s how “Dang Red” was born. 

8x10 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.

Frame Size: 14"x17"

Story behind the painting:

When I used to run guided fishing trips out of Laguna Marina & Storage, those old pelicans were always the first ones to greet us at the docks. They each had their own goofy personalities. Some were bow legged bullies, some patient and kind but every single one of them were convinced they deserved a free handout while we cleaned our catches. Over the years, they became part of the routine, just like salty old coworkers with feathers. But they smelled much better than the real ones.

The other day, my youngest daughter Megan sent me a picture of a pelican she thought was “cute,” from where she works, the exact same marina I used to guide from. She mentioned that it walked with a limp. I just laughed and told her, “That’s not a limp, babe. That’s the pelican pimp walk.”

And just like that, the memory of all those dockside coworkers came rushing back.
I sketched out a concept for the painting, then went and did a bit of “field work”, aka fishing, for more references. While out there I couldn’t help but notice that same old unforgettable “limp” and lovable swagger as they all wondered around the marina docks.  

5x7 Acrylic on gesso primed panel

Frame size: 12.5"x10"

Story behind the painting:

A few days before our trip to Colorado, my nephew Jacob Hofauer and I spent a quiet morning fishing on the Laguna. As we pulled back into Laguna Marina & Storage worn out from our catches, we were met by a familiar sight. But for some reason, it hit me differently that day.

Standing silently by the cleaning table, like a watch stander of the dock, was a great white egret. It didn’t flinch or take flight. It simply watched us. Calm, welcoming and still as if it had been waiting for us. Something about its presence spoke to me. There was a quiet power in that moment that I knew I had to capture.

While on the road to Colorado, I sketched it from my memory of it all and a quick photo I had taken. Yesterday, I finally painted it. The result is “Laguna Watchstander” a tribute to those quiet, beautiful welcome home moments in nature that stay with you long after they’ve passed.

If you’d like to bring this coastal guardian into your home, business, or office and let its calmness and welcoming vibes remind you of the wild stillness that waits just beyond the dock.

8x10 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.
This original acrylic painting captures a moment of inspiration born on the tranquil waters of Georgia. With every brushstroke, it reflects the serenity and wonder of nature as experienced firsthand by the artist.

Perfect for collectors and coastal art lovers alike, this piece brings a sense of calm and connection to the outdoors—an intimate glimpse into the artist’s creative journey.

Acrylic on gesso primed panel

Story behind the painting:

While my wife and I were traveling, my youngest daughter called to ask if she needed to start preparing the house for Beryl, the storm forecasted to hit the Texas coast. I told her to head down to the marina and check on the pelicans.
She sent me a photo of one sitting there without a single worry in the world—calm, still, and exactly where it belonged. I told her that if the pelicans were still there, then she was fine. No panic. No rushing. Everything was going to be okay.
That moment became a reminder to trust the signs around us, to stay grounded when the noise of worry starts to rise, and to remember that peace often shows up quietly. This piece is about faith over fear, stillness in the storm, and knowing that sometimes the best thing we can do is take a breath and let go.

11x14 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.
Frame Size:  23.5"x20"

Story behind the painting:

On August 17, 2025, at approximately 8:35 a.m., I was scouting some high ridges of the Guadalupe National Forest in Colorado, gearing up for the opening of archery season. I’d been following signs of a herd of elk and decided to hang a trail camera on the very top of a mountain ridge where several trees showed fresh antler rubs.

I left the camera there for a week and then hiked back up to see who all had been passing through. When I pulled the card and scrolled to the first photo, I couldn’t help but laugh. Staring straight back at me was a young bull elk, perfectly framed, clearly taking a selfie. It looked exactly like a mugshot, as if he’d just been caught red-handed vandalizing every tree on the ridge.

It took me back to my days as a police detective, reviewing surveillance footage and finding a suspect’s face staring right into the camera. Even though he wasn’t the suspect I was actually after, I was more than happy with the apprehension of this goofy young bull. A BOLO was immediately issued for his father or grandfather, and the hunt continued.
Like a light bulb coming on, I knew right then and there that this entire experience would eventually make its way onto canvas. Now that the season has ended and I’m already dreaming about the next go round, that memory has finally come to life in acrylics.
“BOLO” is born.

Acrylic on gesso primed panel
Frame Size: 14.5"x17.5"

Took a different kind of “shot” this duck season opener—and I couldn’t be happier with how it turned out. Over the past eight months, I’ve learned more about painting than I ever imagined, and this piece pushed me even further. Capturing the movement and reflection of water is one of the toughest challenges for any artist, especially with acrylics, but that’s exactly what makes it so rewarding.

“Wishing for a Widgeon” brings together the stillness of the hunt and the restless beauty of nature—a moment suspended between patience and anticipation. Perfect for any outdoorsman, waterfowl enthusiast, or art collector who appreciates the quiet poetry of the marsh.

8x10 Acrylic on gesso primed panel
Frame Size: 18.5"x15.5"
The other day, my youngest girl, Megan, and I finally got back on the water together for the first time in months since returning home from our travels. When I pulled out the ol fly rod and started to wade in, she looked at me and said, "What's that?"

She didn't waste any time, the moment we stepped into the water, she brought in a trout.

Then another. And another. She asked if I had my regular rod instead of the fly rod, but I was perfectly fine just watching her bring in five trout to every one that I caught.

At one point, I pulled the old "Hey babe, if you cast right over there, you'll catch one" trick. And sure enough, she hooked one.

It was one of those mornings that felt like time stood still, just the two of us, the sound of the water, lots of hook sets followed by trout shaking their heads across the water. And the quiet peaceful joy of being together.

When we got home, I knew I had to try and recreate that moment and capture it the best way I could, with paint.

I named this one: "A Fathers View".

11x14 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.
Frame Size: 25.5"x21"

While sitting up in my tripod during an evening hunt at the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge, I heard the sharp crack of a branch behind me.

Instantly, I knew what was happening. My heart raced as I caught a glimpse of movement, a beautiful mature doe was coming down the trail, calm and unaware, just ten yards away.

When she stepped into the opening, I let the broadhead fly. It was a perfect shot, clean, quick, and true. As I sat quietly giving her time, I looked out across the refuge and thanked God for the moment, for the hunt, the beauty, and the opportunity to witness that amazing sunset burn across the sky during my harvest.

Today, I did my best to capture the memory in acrylic paint. A mix of adrenaline, gratitude, and some golden light. I named this one: "Harvest Sunset"

8x10 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.

Story behind the painting:

As I slipped into the crystal-clear, glass-still water, the only ripples came from my own steps, gently wading out toward the line of rocks and grass ahead. I tied on a small gnat imitation to the end of my 5x tippet, something subtle to start with.
A few casts in, I began stripping the fly slowly across the surface. Curious swirls followed, but no takers. For nearly two hours, it was the same ol scenario: change the fly, strip it slow, spark some interest. But still, no bites. Just a tease.
Then it happened. Out of nowhere, a small, torpedo-shaped rainbow trout rocketed clean out of the water and inhaled a dragonfly mid-air, right in front of me. The light bulb came on.
I quickly swapped to a small blue dragonfly pattern, and that’s when the magic began. Non-stop action. Cast, strike, catch, photo, release. Over and over, again and again, each fish a bright flash of color darting back into the crystal depths.
There’s something completely mesmerizing about watching a vibrant rainbow trout disappear into that kind of water. So pure, so clear, like nature’s own magic trick.
After a few more catches, I called it a day. But the memory of it all stuck with me. So vivid, so bright and wild, I had to try and bring it to life with acrylics. And that’s the moment when “Dragonfly Slayer” was born.

11x14 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.
If you've ever been on a guided fishing trip with me before, or if you fish down south at all, you have definitely seen this on your way down in the morning. I did my best to replicate it by painting a picture of it with acrylic. But it always turns out better in person when you're out on the water.
Definitely learned a lot on this one. 

18x13 Acrylic gesso primed panel

This painting was created for the 2025 Arkansas State Quail and Turkey Stamp Art Competition. It didn’t take home a win, but it still means so much to me. Being born in Arkansas, with family still nestled near the Ouachita Mountains, this piece feels like a small tribute to the place and the people who shaped me. It carries memories, roots, and a little bit of home in every brushstroke.

11x14 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.

Elk season and deer season has slowed down my art production a bit but l have a ton of references from all of it. Here is one I just finished from the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge archery hunt.

8x10 Acrylic on gesso primed panel. 

Frame size 16"x13"

Story behind the painting:

I was able to take my lil tadpole fishing for the first time alone the other day. Just the two of us. With a fishing pole, a few ornery gators, a bunch of turtles, some beautiful birds and a bunch of hungry bass. We worked the edges of the slime filled pond just like that ol tri colored heron did that was looking for its breakfast. All morning long we caught a bunch of bass together. But when I brought up one decent sized bass, so she could see it in her stroller, she said “ooooooh”. She really liked it and it gave me an idea for a painting. I took a picture of the bass before I released it, sketched it out and then did my best to paint it. 

Acrylic 11x14
Frame Size: 25.5"x21"

As the very first piece of 2025, it marks a personal milestone—reflecting on my journey from picking up a brush just a year ago to embracing a new year of creativity and exploration.

Infused with intention and emotion, this artwork is more than a painting—it's a tribute to learning, passion, and the beauty of starting anew. A perfect addition for collectors who appreciate art with a story and heart.

8x10 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.

Just off the east coast of Georgia, looking out into the Atlantic Ocean from Fort Clinch State Park, you'll catch a view like this. Over the tranquil sound of waves crashing onto the beach, you'll hear the laughter of gulls soaring by and if you're lucky, you might spot the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Sea Fox patrolling the coastline, standing watch as a guardian of the silent service.  

11x14 Acrylic on gesso primed panel.

This one is pretty special to me and took lots of time and preparation to do. It was my home away from home for two years of my life right outta high school. The Coast Guard Cutter Mallet. I learned a lot about life on that ol tug and barge. Seems like painting the decks, bulkheads and everything in between back then wasn't quite as fun as painting it now.

20"x9" Driftwood
I caught and released some brown trout on the Rio Grande the other day, but not before performing an unintentional solo dance routine that would’ve made Will Ferrell proud. One second I was wading through a fast-moving current like a seasoned angler, the next I was flailing, spinning, and river-moonwalking over a slick rock that sent me into full “interpretive wilderness ballet” mode. If anyone had been watching, they’d have assumed they were watching the old school scene where Will Ferrell dances with ribbons in the athletics competition.

Once I regained my dignity and balance, I looked down at the culprit rock and noticed a few olive-colored scuds clinging underneath. The light bulb came on. I tied on a simple olive nymph, let it drift low and slow through a deep seam, and sure enough, a chunky brown trout hit it like it had been waiting for it all day. A few more casts a little further up the river provided a few more fish in the exact same way.

On my way back to the Jeep walking the smooth safe bank of a buddies place (making sure I didn’t bust into any more surprise dance moves), I found a piece of old driftwood half-buried in the rocks. Weathered, rough-grained, water-stained, absolutely perfect. I brought it back, cleaned it up a bit and painted one of the trout I caught just as I remembered it: drifting the edge, quiet, and wild.

This piece brings together my whole experience, the stumble, the strike, and the catch of a memory I will cherish forever from the Rio Grande.