My father was a remarkable artist, better than he ever gave himself credit for. I learned this as a boy when I found out he hand painted a phoenix on the hood of his friend’s truck. That, in itself, isn’t all that impressive, the awe-inspiring part was HOW he painted it. He used both hands to simultaneously paint each side of the firebird… at the same time! I didn’t believe it until his friend told me he watched my dad paint the entire thing. I asked my dad why he did it that way and he said it was the only way he could get the proper proportions and balance to the picture. All he did was look down the center of the hood and paint both sets of wings with each hand, never taking his eyes off that center point.
Over time he stopped drawing. He did help with my more art-based homework assignments and only occasionally would pick up a pencil for fun. But once I showed the prospect of being able to draw, he pushed me harder than anyone to do it - partly out of regret he didn’t pursue his gift – and out of the potential he saw in me. This kind of “living through your children” didn’t upset me as I enjoyed being able to create something from nothing and was elated to have this time spent with my dad. He always told me that I was better than he ever was and that if I had a passion to be creative, to never let it go. Now, I’m not sure I was better than he was. His tools were a pencil and paintbrush and my tools are a computer and mouse – which allow me to cheat in certain areas. But what I have is the same eye for perspective, attention for small details, and the ability to view objects a bit differently by inspecting all angles.
I was blessed a second time in my life by marrying another gifted artist. She has been by my side and an inspiration in her own way. While my talent on the computer may be a bit better than hers, it’s her mind, her creativity and her honest critiques that help keep me focused and offer a different perspective in my everyday learning curve. In doing what we do as a team, it isn’t too far off to declare that she is the brains of the paring and I’m the muscle. A role we both work perfectly together.
But now is where the story really takes flight (a slight reference to the phoenix mentioned earlier). My boys are showing a propensity for drawing. Their excitement to sit down and draw/color anything is infectious. I encourage them in the way my father encouraged me. And I want to push them to be creative but not direct them to do so. Whether being creative is something they want to pursue or not, I want them to find a love of something and go after it wholeheartedly. The byproduct of their enthusiasm is inspiring me again to find that love in what I do. To look at things differently, find that unique angle, explore an unexplored approach to visually solving a problem. And to find the giddiness and utter joy in doing so. I would love for the day to come; however, where I could carry on the family tradition and tell them, “you’re better than your old man ever was.”