An Army of Hope on the Move

 Apple season; roadside stands selling the best apple cider, fields of gold and artists looking for those hidden places to capture on canvas. Autumn is closing in, inspiring artists to get out of their messy dusty studios to create prose with color and brushes. Fingerless gloves, worn hats, paint spattered pants and smocks - an army of hope is on the move. Art exhibitions are in the making. 

I remember in art school, everyone who'd planned weekend trips to farmland returning on Mondays with paintings of red barns, white houses and bright yellow maple trees, all painted from a distance. Three, maybe four, weekends the autumn colors would inspire then it was back to nudes and costume models,  a few still-life paintings of Indian corn and pumpkins would get frames for those winter time art exhibitions.

This is how it was and still is for many because this is what artists do. A few will see more when out there hunting for those award-winning paintings. I remember my first trip out painting on the spot. I chose the Aurora Round House, not because I wanted to be different, but because I had no car and no way of getting to my relatives farms. Even if I did get manage to get out to one of their farms I'd have been put to work. So I carried my paints a few blocks to the railroad yards and did a painting of the interior of the round house. 

Monday at school all I got were puzzled looks. One of the teachers recognized the fact I was familiar with my subject - which I was, it was where my dad worked so I was quite familiar with the round house. It's important to know your subject. Even a red barn from a distant can be more interesting in a painting when you are familiar with the workings of a farm. Uncle Melvin's red barn was in need of fresh paint and and new framework around the doors from all the cows scratching their backend on those doorways. When I did make it to his farm I did a painting of my cousin's rabbit hutch. Every time I got to one of my uncles farms I found things more interesting to paint than just the barns themselves. As a kid I loved exploring the barns, watching the cows from above and the barn owls feeding mice to their young. It's why I understood Andrew Wyeth's paintings. 

Stealing Grapes

          The other day I heard a want-to-be artist say "I took his course and learned not a thing." I couldn't help but ask what was it he expected from his teacher. "I want to be an artist and I want him to teach me what to do." was his answer.
          You can be taught how to mix colors, how to use a brush, what papers work best, what colors Sargent used, how your favorite artist approached a canvas. None of these will make you an artist, they will teach you how to make a painting, even make one that looks like a Zorn. To make an artist you have to have life's experience, and be willing to share it with others. You also need to recognize that you have a voice of your own. 
          Took me a while to find my own voice, takes most artists a while to find their own voice. I can name three artists who taught me how to paint and how to put a picture together. Being an artist took a lot more than that. My brother Francis taught me how to see the world with a pure heart. Being mentally handicap he saw the good in everyone - where I preferred to kick the crap out of the bad kids or get the crap kicked out of me trying to correct their ways. 
          Trick-or-Treating, they made us sing for our treat. Another experience that adds to my art was stealing grapes... which was not acceptable and that act gave me time to think and draw instead of play. Mom liked us kids to think after we did things like stealing grapes. Having a crush on a girl who thought I had coodies was just more color to add to my palette. Having a neighbor scream from her window "Jack hung himself"; knowing a boy who drown himself because being gay wasn't accepted when I was a kid. These are things that stay with you. 
         I really believe all life's experiences flavor our art. The more we look inward the clearer we see the world around us. Francis's smile is there for me when things look dark. I like to think of my art as his smile. I believe an artist learns the basics from other artists, and then sets about finding his or her voice.