Dreams

I was a boy in Western Pennsylvania.  We lived in the woods; literally.  I could see no other dwelling from my house.  Thoreau would have been jealous.  I reached my house via a cinder road through the woods and fields.  There were flaming maple trees in Autumn, nose freezing mornings in Winter, Spring times wet and green and green and green, and long Summers full of freedom and joy.

I left that Pennsylvania home and became a Chicago boy and then a Los Angeles boy.  I had large failures and small successes.  I became a husband, a father, and then just a father, and then a husband once again.  I watched Apollo 11 paint the mural of human history with a new color, knowing that my fingerprints were somewhere in that paint.  I knew the fear of the perpetually unemployed, I learned how to do back breaking work and do it well.  I watched my engineers hands become hard and used to lifting heavy objects.  I flew airplanes and drove trucks.  I made friends and lost them.  I fell in love, then out.  I fell in love again.  I became a smoker and a heavy drinker.  I broke the bondage of both.  Somehow I escaped the call of drugs.  I witnessed the Watts riots, I missed Vietnam and I did not “Serve My Country”.  I am sorry for that.  I watched summer open air concerts at Ravinia, the Greek Theatre, the Hollywood Bowl, and the Park on South Whidbey.  I showed my daughter and my new wife the beauty of Ballet.  I learned to cook.  I was taught how to care and love truly by a little black terrier named Waldo.

My art career was nothing more than a dream.  Often criticized for being a dreamer, that dream stayed alive, leading to a Bachelor’s of Fine Art from California State University: Sacramento, where I studied under William Allen and Carlos Villa and others.

I lost faith and became once again something else but the dream remained and now it is time, even when there is so little time, to live the dream.

Once I was something else.  Now I am a painter.  Once I was young, now I am old but I’m going to paint anyway.  Pigments, white spaces, nature – How could I not paint?

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