John R Powers once wrote in his book The Unoriginal Sinner and the Ice Cream God that “Life is a lousy
spectator sport.” Whether you are 5, 25, 50 or 75, the difference between
living and existing is the belief that the actions we take today will affect
the outcome of tomorrow for ourselves and others. And to take it upon ourselves
to do something about it. Each of us has to listen, and sometimes struggle, long
enough to realize that we indeed have a hidden dream that necessitates taking action
regardless of the potential for unsettling consequences. We know that once the
ticket is purchased and the seatbelt cinched firmly across our lap, the
amusement park ride that is life unfolds in ways unimaginable.
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| Cicada Watercolor and Pencil, 18 x 24 |
Many years ago, I remember when I had a dream; that my work as
an artist could make a difference in some way. As I was changing careers after
working in a field for which I had gone to college and struggled to enter and
then had practiced for more than five years, I was a bit uncertain about making
a change after so much commitment. A sign, if there was really such a thing,
came one afternoon in the form of a cicada that alighted on a window screen in
our newlywed apartment long enough for me to take pictures, study it and then
let it go. This moment in time was captured in the illustration at right-the first
portfolio piece for a studio that I started and ran for over 19 years. It
resulted in work for a variety of companies and institutions, some of which still
can be found on the internet today almost two decades after their creation. But
the dream had since faded, the business closed a while ago due to a number of issues
none of which had sealed its fate but in concert brought it to an end.
_______________________
I had returned home from the trip to Michigan and mourned the loss of the
previous week; the closeness with family, friends and the new people I had met
and the general concept of returning to “reality.” But the sadness was quickly replaced
with the realization that something big had also just happened. I just wasn’t
sure what it was so I kept thinking about this internal process taking place,
distilling, churning, clearing and while the last of the expanding crystal spread
outwards, reaching to just below the skin.
I kept thinking about the carpenter that spent seven months
restoring a historic structure on the grounds of the resort, the care taken to
rebuild it and shore it up for future generations. The cook that drives many hours round trip once a week to again be a member of the “family” of resort workers which she has been a part of for many years. Or the guest that studied
philosophy decades ago, a passion she shared with her husband over the course
of their long lifetime together. All framed by the beautiful faces that shared
these stories with me. Maybe I was meant to have stayed the full week to experience the
pain in the beginning while those I met and interviewed empowered me to realize
. . . a dream.
Portraiture and storytelling. Capturing the essence of those around me and their stories.
It was
there, all along, simply waiting for the crystalline moment to open up the path
to my next artistic endeavor. I had been practicing it, toying with it, but
never really giving it serious consideration. Since returning home, I’ve
completed no fewer than five sketches or paintings, met with a
mentor/instructor that I’ve worked with for a number of years and mapped out
the next four to five months of effort. In the coming months, I’ll share where
I am at on the path. On the one hand I am thrilled to have this direction but
on the other I’m terrified because I know what a long road I have ahead; art
doesn’t bow to any specific time frame. I guess we’ll just have to see what
happens next - I hope that you’ll join me on this trip.
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| The Cook Pastel on Paper - In Studio Study |
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| The Carpenter Pastel on Paper - In Studio Study |
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