In Buffalo, fans of Ron Hawkins have been spoiled over the years. We saw the Lowest of the Low more often than our less fortunate neighbors to the south, and when Hawkins split from that band to form the Rusty Nails, some of the first shows were performed here. Later, when the Low reformed for periodic gigs, Buffalo was tops on the tour list. In fact, the reformed band recorded its live album, “Nothing Short of a Bullet,” during a reunion show at the Tralf.

With the Lowest of the Low once again on extended hiatus, and its various members involved in a wide array of musical projects, Hawkins has hardly been laying, er, low. In fact, he has found a new lease on his artistic life, coupling a fiercely independent “DIY” streak with a prolific outpouring of new songs. Playing most of the instruments himself, Hawkins has been recording these new songs in his basement studio, on equipment that is hardly state of the art, and with a firm belief that making music is its own reward as his guiding principle.

The result is “10 Kinds of Lonely,” a stirring song cycle that incongruously makes the corner of Heartbreak Avenue and Despair Street seem like the kind of place you would like to visit. Concurrently, Hawkins has been honing his skills as a painter, in the process creating canvases of rock music icons, among them Johnny “Rotten” Lydon, Patti Smith, Kurt Cobain and Bob Dylan.

At 8 tonight, Hawkins will host a reception at the Vault Art Gallery (702 Main St.), where 26 of his paintings will be on display. Following the reception, Hawkins will perform a small set, accompanied by cellist Alex McMaster. On Saturday, Hawkins and McMaster move to the Allendale Theater (203 Allen St.), for an 8 p. m. artist reception and a full show at 9 p. m.

“10 Kinds of Lonely” really is striking, and immediately compelling, but it is also stark and intimate. A casual listen might suggest that Hawkins is going through some tough times in his personal life, but as it turns out, that’s not at all the case.

“It’s a strange place to be as a songwriter, because in fact I’m way better then OK,” says Hawkins. “My life is really satisfying — I have a fabulous partner and an amazing 3zye 1/2 r- old daughter, and my work has never been more prolific or fulfilling.

“Still, as I asked another artist friend of mine recently, ‘Why do we have such easy access to sorrow?’ I generally build the stories in my songs from liberal doses of autobiography, hearsay, rumor and imagination, and this album is no different. I guess early on I decided this was [going to be] a country disc, and not too long after, I stumbled on the title ‘10 Kinds of Lonely,’ so I guess that pigeonholed me into a disconsolate place where I had to try and wring some beauty out of sadness.”

Hawkins tracked “Lonely” quickly, playing most of the instruments himself, and capturing the songs while they were still fresh and new to him — a process he didn’t so much pursue as fall into naturally.

“I don’t think I came to this consciously, but that’s how it turned out. The theme I take away from this disc is working with limitations. I recorded it on a really obsolete digital workstation, so I was limited, literally, in the amount of tracks I had at my disposal. And I also played almost all the instruments on the disc — the ones I’m comfortable with, as well as the ones I have no right attempting. So I was limited in what I could do musically, to some degree.

“These songs started to come quickly, and in fact, I got a few ‘gift songs,’ the ones that come fully formed and are done in 20 minutes or so. I really had to overcome my hang-up about working for every note of every song. As I got more comfortable with that idea, the songs came more easily. That was another happy accident that came out of this process.”

There is a long history of rock musicians who, at various points in their career, have followed the “one-man band” route. Paul McCartney, Todd Rundgren, Lenny Kravitz — all have released albums comprised solely of their own performances on various instruments. Often, these records stand out from the rest of that artist’s work, based on a consistency of vision that only working alone can provide.

For Hawkins, becoming a father, delving deeper into the craft of painting and coming to the realization that music-making is its own reward are all intertwined.

“Making any kind of art is about trying to make sense of your life, or building bridges or community, or communicating. Kids are the most vulnerable to these drives, because they haven’t yet developed the tools to navigate them. That’s probably why they’re so free, and that’s probably why artists who are most successful at getting to the core of their art seem the most childlike. And so I guess having a kid around is like having a guru or a professor to teach you to be more free, or more spontaneous.

“That is something that can be applied to both painting and music-making. They’re similar in that there is an element of sculpting something — taking a rough idea and chipping away at it, molding it, scraping things off, covering over and discovering things, and ultimately winding up with a result that, more often than not, is very distant from the original vision. There’s an overarching sense of play and discovery in both as well.

“And I feel both pursuits have ruined me for any other kind of work — I guess they have that in common!”