This is a series of short posts that will piece together how I ended up in the visual arts. I don’t recall an Ah-Ha situation where I knew from a particular moment that I wanted to be an artist. It just sort of crept up on me. It has now been over 35 years since I pursued art as, at first, a serious avocation then a profession. Along the way I have been very fortunate having experienced many facets of the visual art world. During that time I have also made attempts to leave that world only to be pulled back in somehow. You can read the first post in this series here.
In high school I became interested in the humanities, particularly classic literature, poetry and, to a lesser degree, the theater. It is probably worth saying that as a child I dabbled in the performing arts by participating in school and community plays, glee club and such. But it didn’t stick with me. I took art in high school but did not like the teacher who seemed sort of tipsy a lot of the time so I dropped the class.
My oldest sister was a newspaper reporter and received press passes to cover a large event at the Philadelphia Museum of Art; I believe it was the opening or maybe reopening of the American Wing. It was a very big deal and I was in awe of the sheer spectacular-ness of the event which seemed very lavish to me as a 15 or 16 year old. I can’t say I remember any of the art because it was only the grandeur that I remembered.
As a teenager, I remember sitting in my room drawing with great absorption and concentration. Two drawings stand out in my mind: one was a copy of the front of a David Bowie album I had. I can’t remember the name of it but his face was sort of tilted down and you could see a lightening bolt or something like that painted on his face. I did the drawing in color pencils. The other drawing was of a philodendron plant I had in my room with trailing lemony green leaves. It may have been the first thing I drew from life.
Sorry – still no images but later posts will have plenty!