When I first moved to Grand Marais nearly 30 years ago, two natural features fascinated me. Devil’s Kettle and the Witch Tree. We have many rivers and many trees here in the boreal forest, but these two oddities are unique.

I had been painting old growth white pines for a long time, then one day I saw a branch that looked like a fish. I thought I’d try it out. I painted a fish into that branch that hung with its mouth open. There’s a beautiful stand of trees a little way up the Gunflint Trail that I have painted over and over. I’ve gotten to know those individual trees quite well, and when I approach them on the road, they greet me like friends.

As an individual tree, the Witch Tree is even more unique and recognizable. She’s not so tall or easy to find, but is a symbol of survival against the odds. Perseverance in adverse conditions. Sacred to many. Mysterious and inspiring, clinging to rock, she is unlikely. Unlike the fish who come and go, swimming in her shadow, she is steadfast.

I am just one of many artists to interpret this amazing and beautiful cedar.

I’m looking forward to hanging paintings at Coho Cafe in Tofte on April 15. Almost 30 years ago, Chef Judi Barsness asked me to show my paintings in that venue. Now we’ve come full circle. She was the one who contacted me about this current show.

Always supportive, Judi displayed my work at her restaurant in Grand Marais for many years as well.

Thank you to everyone who came out to my house on April 1!

My friend Anne once told me not to feel bad about painting the same subject over and over. She said if you paint it once, one person can have it. If you paint it many times, many people can have one, and that’s how you can become a household name.

Sometimes I feel like I’m doing the same painting again, but that is not true. They evolve subconsciously. I wouldn’t be able to do the same painting twice if I tried.

These fish in trees paintings are hanging in many homes now, and that’s a good feeling.

I was feeling stressed after work this morning. I was so wound up I couldn’t just go to bed. So I went into my studio and painted for an hour or so. It relaxed me and gave me some clarity, or at least calmed my mind enough to go to bed.

Working the night shift takes a toll, even though I love my job. As I said in an interview once, my jobs are things I do, but art is who I am.

Detail

Detail

Detail

Jargogle, 2016

These small wood blocks were painted by my father, Dr. Frank Young, and will be on display at my art reception on April 1st.

What role does the artist have in society?

To me, it’s like that old adage, “Think globally, act locally.”

As an artist, I want to reach the whole world with my message, but I have to create personal expressions right where I am. From my own “local” mind.

And what is your message?

It’s pretty simple really… that you matter. That what you feel and what you have to say, is valid and important.

Society seems dead set on making us feel bad about ourselves.

Almost anyone who has ever heard me speak in public, has heard my soapbox. That you are unique in all the universe. No one else has your particular viewpoint and experiences. Being you is all the credential you need to be a true artist, whatever form your art may take.

So going back to your first question, I think a good role for me as an artist in society, is to instill a sense of self confidence in others.

People will criticize you. So take constructive value from that critique and ignore the rest. Find the gift in it and continue to shine rather than feeling bad about yourself or quitting.

The really important things in life are invisible.

What is an artistic outlook on life?

I think an artistic outlook is seeing the meaning or significance in something. We have the power to interpret what we see. Our bodies collect information through our senses, and our brain then has the ability to metabolize that information into spiritual meaning.

Every word in this sentence is just a string of letters, or symbols. Our brains understand the meaning because we’ve learned the language they are written in.

In the same way, our brains or spirits can extrapolate spiritual meaning from the beauty or pain of the world. As artists, we can highlight and share what we see and how it makes us feel or think.

I think that’s an artistic outlook.

What memorable responses have you had to your work?

As nice as it is to hear someone say “I love that,” it is also valuable to hear negative comments.

Someone once told me “I reject your thinking” because he didn’t like the order in which I layered paint into a landscape.

It really made me stop and think, and only strengthened my instinct to capture light at the end rather than paint the furthest away objects first.

Criticism offers us another, objective viewpoint. I think the comment made me a stronger, more focused and intentional artist.

Is the artistic life lonely? What do you do to counteract it?

I think life is lonely. I don’t think art makes it so.

Art, for me, is social and interactive. Sometimes friends come over to watch me paint in my studio. We play music, talk, laugh. Sometimes I go to other artists’ studios to paint with them. Not necessarily to collaborate, but to commiserate. Sometimes I paint in front of a gathering of people, doing a painting demonstration and talking about my life and my art.

But mostly I paint alone in my studio. That is not sad or lonely. It’s regenerative. I often say that painting is like a meditation for me. But even those paintings most often end up on a wall and become interactive.

For me, it takes work not to be lonely. Art is one way I connect with people. It is also a way for me to connect with myself. Is the artistic life lonely for some people?

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve been given?

Long after his death, I found a handwritten note from my grandfather which said “Don’t imitate your teacher. Don’t let your teacher make you imitate him. Be yourself.” http://artsculture.newsandmediarepublic.org/