In the beginning of my art career, there were things I couldn’t avoid: having food and a place to live. I did art for myself but was also “happy to please buyers.” Most importantly, I was determined not to “work” for a living. At the same time, each art piece slowly helped me. I was always learning, building more confidence and steadily bringing out Harley Brown—who eventually was more confident in doing things for himself.

Yes, we finally evolve into our own actual selves. For many years at the easel, I’ve wanted to make myself fully creative. Every minute while working on my art, my mind is enraptured between me and my subject. No time nor inclination to wonder if others will be excited with the end result. Our hard-earned individuality is a positive part of ourselves. A subject I continually think and write about.

“Lucky” is resting in his private world. We see lost edges with those shadows going into the dark background. A point of interest is just that slight gray for his beak, and our inner mind fills in the rest of the beak. Forming the feathers is part of the design along with his angled body. Two thirds of this piece is dark, giving our friend Lucky extra importance. 

Our Artistic Strength
All the great artists I’ve known had legendary art mentors, and every one of those artist friends emerged with their own artistic approach. We don’t necessarily see, day by day, our artistry as it matures. But each of those days, our minds keep getting us closer to becoming our individual selves, which happens sooner than we think. We get to really know who we are and what we’re doing. In the arts, true strength steadily comes, and in the long run, doesn’t go away.

The more we create, the less we’ll question where we’re going.

We Don’t Age
I often chat with other representational artists—those who work in landscapes, seascapes, still lifes, figures, portraits, you name it. Yes, we’re a happy lot and always will be. Sure, once in a while, there are rough, emotional moments, but mostly inspiring moments—past, present and future. During all our times together and with our art, we don’t age. It’s true!

Take Me, For Instance
In the mirror, shaving and looking at my face, I’m an old goat. But at the easel and traveling the world, I’m 53 years old, and have been for a good number of years. “Easel  Harley” has no birthday. And when asked my age, I simply say, “I feel 53.” The only people who have to know our age are doctors, lawyers and spouses. In the arts, physical age has little to do with mental age.

Being in my “middle year,” on a regular art day, my mind just might be generously moving around into obscure areas, observing, contemplating and creating. As we artists realize, each day rushes by in just a few hours. When our heart beats happily, that says it all.

Letting Our Minds Loose
I have never been bored for one moment of my life. My mind is always working on something “within” or something “sent in.” Whatever I see or think or hear, I interpret it in many ways, often beyond what one could imagine. This includes while laying on a couch and gazing up at the ceiling. Our combined outer and inner minds relish those moments.

“THE RECKONING” An oil painting of a grand individual, reckoning a situation. His expression is relaxed yet determined.  His face, with form and cast shadows, is brought to life with impassioned yet accurate strokes. What he’s wearing is loosely rendered, contrasting with his more detailed features. The painting is mostly warm with slight touches of cool. This man will be making his decision soon. 

A Quick Aside
It’s strange that I recall all of my mentors. Back at that time, they were “seniors” to me by quite a bit. My actual age now makes me much older than they were then. Yet, in my mind, they are still “seniors.” Such wisdom they passed on to many of us. Monumental wisdom that I sincerely pass on to you.

A Wonderfully Bizarre Life
My mind is filled, remembering wild eccentric days in art college and many of the totally unbelievable years after. Unbelievable is true: a film company heard about me from an actor who was fascinated by my life’s story. But when given my books plus many extra details, the studio thought my life was, as they quoted, “too bizarre and no one would believe it.” Those who know my life, agree. Hey, you and I are artists, not accountants!

What Counts in Workshops
In workshops, when major art principles are learned, that class is worthwhile. I used to test my students who might want to go to the office and complain if every single minute wasn’t about art. The first day, mid-morning, I’d take 10 minutes talking about the best pizza. Then back to art class, which I always extended to 9 p.m. The next day I told the class about my pizza plot and said no one complained. (If any did I didn’t want to know who.) The students smilingly understood, and we were inspired in classes filled with deep artistic approaches and techniques surrounded with understanding the sheer bliss of an artist’s life. Incidentally, for supper we often had pizza.

To Do or Not to Do
We artists have a rare career where we can do anything we want with our art. We are free of bosses telling us what to do. I sit in my studio, totally in charge with what’s around me and what I’m about to do. That feeling got into my system near the beginning and has never left. Could it be like royalty?  Well, not quite.

Out of Dark, Into Light
Many of us artists go through moments that are often unexplainable. Strange moments that give me pause, getting my imagination going. For instance, yesterday evening I was driving by some old, lonely houses, lifeless with all the windows dark, no humans near by. It was a sad sight.

Well, I’m soon back at the easel and feel a fresh swoosh of oxygen with my mind chucking such nonsense into the always available mental trash bag. Onward with the freshness of a euphoric life. In many ways, you understand my musings. The sheer positive power of what we can do. Somber darkness to glowing light. And for sure, the light comes through our art and those many things that warmly touch our souls.

Something to remember when such moments come creeping in: at times in art and life, simple things can get rid of the complexities. I’ll leave it at that.

“I SEE YOU” It was a fun challenge getting her features spot on with her head tipped up. No fussing with fingers or hair, giving importance to facial details. Her beautiful eyes are mystically dark and yet we know she is looking at us. You can observe cool touches throughout, on the face and in the background. The strongest color is definitely her red lips. Dark in the background, low on one side, high on the other side. 

 

The Miracle of Eyes
The human face has fascinated me from the day my eyes opened for the first time. You can surely relate. For instance, recognizing faces in the distance or faces you haven’t seen for decades. Faces can be like fingerprints: they’re approximately the same but universally different.

Miracle is the word to describe our eyes and brain cells being able, in nano-seconds, to visually recognize everything circling around us. Sounds impossible but we artists know it’s definitely true.

What About Recognition?
In my mid-teens, I wanted to be noticed. At the same time, I was quiet and all I did was draw and play the piano, with passable school grades. One of my dreams was to play Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in front of a full house at Carnegie Hall. I wanted to be recognized in a monumental way. Years passed by, and I got more confidence with my art by learning and working hard. Finally I knew where I was going. And recognized or not, I’ve continued on for impassioned decades with sublime pleasure. In a way, just like that imagined Carnegie Hall concert.

The Finish
I’ve never actually completed a painting. It always needs a few small touch-ups; that extra fussing can go on and on. Being human, I love the fact that we’re not “perfect,” and we’re unable to bring things to perfection. Machines we are not. (Also, too much fussing can slowly take away some of our very personal, innovative strokes.)

And Then
Putting those final, inspired strokes on a work has me flying with my heart pounding. I do it with all its complications and areas that I bring to life. My feeling is continually up, even with a few biddy problems. It’s finished and I joyfully leave the studio. Like an angel helping me to express myself then guiding me away. Each painting we do is also important in that we’re allowing the world to see us through our art. When we do the work our way, that reveals a part of us. And we don’t mind one bit. —