I will continue to mention that I’ve learned to not overly correct my personal approach. I think in the arts, whether writing, acting or painting, each of us must reveal our subjects as interpreted by our uniqueness—freely flowing personal boldness and intricacies.

It’s what we’ve personally brought to its moment of completion. The lights the shadows, the cool and warm hues, the overall design. Careful foundation, getting those early basic strokes right from the start. And what also counts are those “finishing touches” where there’s very little “correcting.” Like singing a well-known song with a distinct interpretation carrying it through. Listen to Willie Nelson’s “Blue Eyes Crying in The Rain.” The melody is there and, oh yes, Willie is there. Classic. While we’re talking music, I’ll mention a major inspiration: Kate Bush.

Art Style
I’ve been influenced by the masters yet never attempted to paint like any of them. Their styles were obvious and personal: Van Gogh, Rembrandt, Cassatt, Degas, Serov. Bits and pieces of many artists go into our subconscious and come out into our paintings, twisted by our own personal interpretations. Like learning a language and speaking our minds. Understanding a way of life in the early years, with family and friends; then comes the gradual, wondrous strength of individuality.

Surviving in Art
Back in the 1960s, I continued surviving in my art career and of course, needed money just to live (food and rent). A dealer offered me a thousand dollars if I would do 100 pastels for him. Ten dollars apiece. I happily said, “Yes!” He handed me the check, which at that time was a fortune. And over a good number of months, I got him the hundred pastels. At that time, I was doing pastels on velour. Yes, artists can survive.

Drawing for Ourselves
It’s necessary to state that feeling low pops up once in a while, as if it’s a lesson not learned from last time it happened. I’ll describe it from a personal point:

Feeling low after a few days without creating art. Flat. Empty.

Knowing that nothing will bring me out of this doldrum. Nothing!

Okay, so finally taking myself to my studio and setting up to draw.

All set up, and I grab a conte.

I begin to draw.
Then within the first moment of creating something on paper, I’m alive!

I’m flying! I don’t want to stop for anything.

The sadness is gone. “Like it never happened!”

What I’ve described came about periodically over the years. A few days not drawing and my mind empties: what’s going to get me out of this feeling? Always, eventually, my inner mind tells me, “draw.” And when I do, it’s always a 180-degree turn. My inner mind connected and got the outer mind rolling. I continue to thank my inner mind. And I’ll keep passing this message on.

What’s Age?

I’m now decades older than my art instructors were through my years of learning, yet in my mind, they continue being my elder mentors. Like my parents will always be my older, wiser and loving parents.

Our Remarkable Minds

What we have within our minds is powerful beyond words. I recently got together with my graduating class that I had not seen since 1957, and I recognized every face. Also, I’ve been watching films I haven’t seen for over half a century. I remember most scenes plus the heartening music scores. These are mere specks of what treasures are stacked within our minds, ready to be reawakened. Strokes and colors in our artwork today come from subjects now observed and approached with the talents and skills developed in our brain cells over the years. All these cells somehow merging with our lifelong memory vaults. To a great degree, we all have this happening within our brains. Could it be that our minds are limitless in seeing and hearing and intuitively interpreting? Emerging from past, present and perceived future. I say yes.

A Life Lived

Most artists spend a lot of their time alone in their studios. Art can be a singular, self-absorbed world. I’ve always been comfortable sitting or standing in front of the easel with the radio playing music. Maybe a dog or cat asleep in the corner. Over the years, I discovered that I was good company for me. I’ve never bored myself.

Here’s a side issue but nevertheless of some importance. First, my “office” (studio) is a very short distance from my bed. It takes me 20 seconds to get there and settle down at the easel. Who cares if I’m in my underwear? No dress code. My studio is a place of pure euphoria.

A good part of my existence is content in that place I wanted and needed all my life, a very comfortable area where I can joyfully make art. Keeping it relatively tidy is important. A mess can “mess” the mind. Also, art things in their proper place make those things less frustrating to find. Lighting and its angle on the work is extremely important. I also know some artists turn their phones off during studio time.

I like to leave the studio after the day with any major problem resolved in the painting or at least being revived. This is so next day, the work has a positive feel. I say this because early in my career, it took me a while to figure this out and what a major difference it made. Like leaving relatives with a good feeling and excited to see them again! Living in art is living with life.
I’m also devoted being with family and friends; art gatherings and shows. Oh, those times we artists and families traveled together, experiencing everything along with our art. Describing those journeys would fill several very interesting books. They were heartening, high-spirited times way beyond normal description. For a moment here, I have to stop writing.

So pardon me, I’m now setting up the easel. My long-time music friend Beethoven will be joining me. And soon, Bob the cat will saunter into the corner.

Life Will Show Us
When I started personal portraits, they were all done from life. I did them in saloons, restaurants, fairgrounds, door to door sales, and in time, major commissions. This continued for years. Eventually I started to work both from life and using “reference” photographs. When doing celebrities for magazine covers, I would include numerous photos of them to develop the painting.

I don’t think I’d be able to do portraits today, using photos, without having all those past years working mostly from life. Those times gave me an understanding of what and who I was interpreting in the real world. People, animals, various subjects; mixing reality with reference material. It certainly worked for me. Like living a full and spirited life while writing a novel or directing a film.

Individual Minds
I often discuss about a major area of art that I don’t comprehend. There was a time, I thought I did. As years went by, there have been many things in life where I have had some second and third thoughts. Much has to do with this vast universe of art.

There are many famous artists that I don’t “get.” For instance, with many post-impressionists and cubists, I can visually reach into their works but only so far. Certainly, I observe colors laid on, pushing and pulling shapes and forms; I just don’t see beyond that. There are those who are sure they understand this art and obliged to educate many of us who they feel need aesthetic help.

Let’s now leap over to Joaquín Sorolla, a Spanish artist who painted absolutely everything surrounding his life. I understand his art. You’ve heard the expression, “he speaks my language.” Sorolla paints with a unique, genius mastery that I totally admire.

I was born and raised and studied and approached my art in a world that embraces artists such as Sorolla. He is one of the great artists of history, rising to grand levels of originality, with knowledge and love of nature and subjects.

These comparisons are not meant to make one artist more important than another. We each decide where to gravitate. Bless the total freedom of thought in our wide open art communities. This is so important.

Ends with Odds

• In that moment I don’t comprehend, I utilize more of what I’m able to do. A few thoughts in bullet form:

• Because something we see is memorable, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s worthy. 

• So much needs our attention. Awareness should have no limits.

• As an artist, I can be an acquired taste. Even then, I can go down the wrong way.

• What is red? No one can really say. Only see. Yellow? Purple? Blue?

• How hard is it to pick up a sketch pad and pencil? I bought three sketch pads today, pencils and kneaded erasers. And had a smile.

• Art supplies are abundant and are so much better today.

• Artists’ homes: bathrooms, kitchens, family rooms, bedrooms and art studios. When I was starting out, the bathroom was also my “studio.” The mirror was my “easel.” The sink caught the pastel “dust.”

• So many important art books, magazines; inspiring texts and images.

• If you are a human, (or an elephant) you can make a career as an artist. So many of my friends and I are solid proof of this. We all wanted and needed to be artists.

• It’s official, all bullies are total cowards; including arrogant bullies in the art world. Doing their superior, noxious routines. Tiresome. Forgetful.

• Three good points in art: comfortable, confident, challenges.

• I don’t mind being a bore; I no longer go out of my way to try and be interesting. My art speaks to me, with me and for me.

This weekend, try listening to the music of Edward Elgar and Ralph Vaughn Williams. Then let your mind wander into a blissful dreamworld.