From the time I started elementary school, my teachers recognized that I was creative. I have those early report cards. They wanted me to focus on other areas of study, but I only wanted to do art. This tells me that I wasn’t making art to please anyone else. I did it because I loved it, and I’ve never stopped. I think this is a key to expanding ones creative mind and abilities.

I really wanted my drawings and paintings to look like objects in the physical world. That is not my goal anymore, though there is a place for it. It took me a long time to discover my artistic voice. I realized that paint colors don’t have to match the world around me, and objects in my paintings don’t have to obey the rules that govern tangible objects or beings. Having said that, I want my symbolism to be in there. Not necessarily easy, but present, and satisfying to me.

The opinions of other people are important because I am a communicator. Not all critiques are helpful.  Not everyone will understand my intent. I am often intentionally cryptic, and not all of my attempts are successful.

I was criticized by the faculty in art school for spelling everything out, and leaving nothing for the viewer to discover or interpret. I think the pendulum has swung to the other side now. They were right. I couldn’t see it then. I couldn’t understand that my approach was like those “other areas of study” and abstract art was like me as an unencumbered and passionate first grade artist.

I try to keep other people’s opinions out of my creative practice and make art that is authentically mine. When someone later connects with it or comments on it, the personal satisfaction is that much greater.

No one is grading me. There is no assignment. I didn’t decide to take this path. I just did what I loved to do. Inspiration didn’t come in a flash. No lightbulb appeared over my head. I just lived each day. I used my senses to navigate and understand the world around me. I found things I enjoyed, and things to avoid. Each one of these things made me the person that I am, with my own strengths and challenges. One of the things I enjoyed very much was creating art.

I didn’t discover my talent. It came naturally, and then I worked at it. I still practice it. I’m still surprised, and still learning to let go.

What creative individuals do I admire? All of them.

145 bottles of champagne were found in the wreckage in the Åland archipelago off the coast of Finland, and after 170 years, it was determined to be the oldest drinkable champagne in the world.

A member of Veuve Clicquot’s winemaking team described the champagne as “a toasted, zesty nose with hints of coffee, and a very agreeable taste with accents of flowers and lime-tree. (from wikipedia)

Now that I’m retired, my days are far less structured.  I stay up later, and I sleep in later.  I paint whenever I feel like it.  I recently bought a kiln, so I’m ready to get my ceramics studio up and running.

My son and I have taken jobs as Aquatic Invasive Species Technicians with the county, so our excursions to lakes and rivers now have a purpose beyond just our enjoyment of them. 

I love to see Raymond working, because this is a dream job for him. It is giving him valuable experience to put on his resume, and he is learning a lot about our native ecosystem and our impact on it. 

Everything I see and experience trickles into me and can later influence what I express through my art.

I need to guard against creating in order to result in a product. That may sound counterintuitive. The act of painting will produce a painted surface. This doesn’t surprise me.  I love to end up with something that I can display or sell.  I just want to keep that playfulness and discovery in the process. So I play.

Lately, I fill sheet after sheet of paper with marks and pigment, with no expectation. I’m just there, watching the lines and colors spill out onto the paper. They flow down my arm and out of my hand in layers, sometimes obliterating what was there, sometimes showcasing it. 

I see the brushstrokes, but I don’t attach to them.  Later on, I spend time with them, and their story is revealed. 

I see my story. The stories I have lived. The stories I have documented. I can’t explain it other than that my hand paints.

My son Raymond and I are working as Aquatic Invasive Species Technicians through the County. It makes me happy to see him working at a meaningful job that he loves. I made this short video while we took a water sample on Ward Lake this morning.

The biggest obstacle I have had to overcome in my creative activities has been believing in myself. This has been my biggest obstacle in life across the board. Throughout high school, I won the award for outstanding art.  I could draw because nobody had told me I couldn’t. I just picked up a pen and went at it. You can call this confidence, but it was easy.  It was fun. There was nothing at stake. I didn’t think about the process of drawing. I just thought of the story I was trying to tell. I scribbled it down and gave it away. On a good day, that is how I approach art now.  I just grab a paintbrush and a color.  I have nothing to lose. I don’t need to agonize over a composition.  I don’t need to explain, because I am painting for myself and I understand. I can be kind to myself. I can surprise myself with happy little accidents.  They aren’t really accidents at all. The accident I most often make is underestimating any future viewer. It is in assuming they won’t derive the same joy I feel when I see it. If they don’t feel joy, it doesn’t matter. Their response won’t diminish mine. I’m an award winning artist because I just did that thing that I did for fun. 

3-D glasses are such a bizarre concept to me.  The whole world is three dimensional. Everything around us is already 3-D!  Even this little painting. The paper alone has thickness. Depth. It’s made of interconnected fibers. Each pigment I applied also has form. The paint has texture. The pencils leave something behind on the surface. The charcoal stick gets smaller when I use it, because it is leaving visible matter behind.