A review from Art Collectors Magazing:

Artist Focus: Ned Martin / Between Two Worlds

Self-taught artist Ned Martin has been painting since early childhood. He is inspired by the feeling of falling and the ethos of “letting go.” His technique consists of making thousands of small marks of oil paint, then breaking them up by scratching the surface only to add more marks. Although Martin credits contemporary artists Chuck Close and Lucian Freud as major influences, he also keenly recalls the impact his fourth grade teacher had on his path to art.

Martin describes that experience in his blog about why painters paint: I had made a small sculpture from clay and she paused at my desk and just for that one brief moment her voice changed. She spoke as soft and sweet and light as angel and her words warmed me and gave me goose bumps all at the same time. She praised me for something I had done. From that moment on, I craved approval for my art… When everything you touch results in complete disaster, one learns to adapt, one learns to focus. One learns to be a better dancer, to sing like no other or to strive to be the best damn painter possible.”

A Baltimore native now living in Hell’s Kitchen, Martin has shown work in galleries in Baltimore, New York, Toronto, Barcelona and Florence. It is his environment; however, that plays a real influence on the work.

“I live and paint in Midtown Manhattan during the week and live and paint in rural central Pennsylvania during the weekends.” he explains. “I am blissfully stuck in my two worlds: simply cannot live in one without the other. My paintings are a reflection of the dichotomy: very photo-real and calming when viewed from afar, contemporary, abstract, maniacal when examined closely.”

Inspiration moves faster than my brush.

Lost in my 2 worlds: Urban PA and  Rural NYC
CNTRL PA: We enjoyed the warm weather as we sat gathered around the picnic table there under the overhanging branches behind the log cabin. With my back to the woods, I sipped my wine and listened to the polite conversation when Rod abruptly interrupted. "There's a bear," he grunted in his deadpan way.

Susie screamed, jumped up and ran into the house. I turned to look into the woods and marveled at a black bear sitting on his haunches in the small clearing some 30 feet away. He stared back at me then slowly stood and walked amongst the large pine trees and out of site. Rod had been feeding the deer and the 5-gallon feed bucket came bouncing out into the clearing as if the bear was saying ""You forgot to fill this!" We waited. We listened. Nothing more. We did a little searching but the large bear had magically disappeared.

NYC: Two days later we sat with friends at one of our favorite restaurants on 9th Ave. and 43rd street.  Especially nice is their wall of windows that fold out of site so that it feels like a sidewalk cafe. I sat with my back to the windows and enjoyed the jazz pianist. When she finished her song a round of polite applause followed then our gay friend suddenly shrieked, "There's Joan Rivers!" he screamed.

I wanted to jump up and run away! Joan had paused at the window to listen to the live music.
I turned to look but she had ducked out of site