“Are You Self Taught?”

I was asked the question the other day, “Are you ‘self taught’ or did you get training somewhere?” I’m actually asked that question a fair amount, so I figured I’d answer here: Yes and Yes. That’s my answer. Just as a rule of thumb, I think it’s a very good thing to get trained in a craft or skill by someone who knows that craft or skill better than you. That’s probably true of most things. The concept of being mentored, trained, even parented…that’s generally just how things work best in my opinion.

For artists though, there seems to be a personality type that wears that “self taught” label like a badge, and I think often times, that’s just because they are arrogant. Sometimes, I think that badge is code for “I figured this all out by myself”, “I don’t need anyone teaching me to do this better”, “I am above input from others”. Maybe. I have to grant the possibility that there really are geniuses out there who need no help or shaping by others. I don’t think there are many people like that though.

What I’m not saying is that if you want to be a professional artist, you should just find an art school and enroll. Not all art schools are created equal. Some schools are excellent, teaching technique and the rules of art. And once you know the rules, over time, you learn how and when to break them. But honestly, some art schools could be compared to a driving school that takes your sixteen year old and sticks them behind the wheel and just says, “okay, drive. There is no ‘right or wrong’ way to drive, just proceed as the spirit leads you.” Imagine the catastrophe.

“No one sees a strong foundation, but the higher you would like to build a structure, the more important a foundation is."

So, learning the rules and techniques are just wise, and can save a lot of time and frustration. “But” you say, “art schools are crazy expensive!” Yep. But there are lots of ways to get the cost down. I won’t take the time here to go down that rabbit hole, but feel free to email me if you’d like input there. The other option would be to find an artist whose work you admire and ask them to mentor you. That’s how they did it “back in the day”. Really, you just need someone to teach you the rules, and then give you input on your work. This takes a good deal of humility, but unless we really think that what we do and create is above critique, that critique is absolutely invaluable. I still get some folks visiting the studio who think it’s their God given assignment to critique my work. And sometimes, I gain something awesome by listening (not all the time, but sometimes).

I went to Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California. That was an awesome experience. What those four years gave me was akin to a foundation. No one sees a strong foundation, but the higher you would like to build a structure, the more important a foundation is. Since college, I’ve invented my own technique. No one taught me that technique. I made it up all by myself, which is very gratifying and it’s awesome when you invent a technique because no one can say you’re doing it wrong. :) Well, sales or lack thereof tell you if you’re doing it right or wrong. I’m constantly playing and experimenting now…”self teaching”. But that’s all based on the foundation of color theory, composition and basic painting/drawing skills I learned in classes.

So, those are some thoughts from me. What are some thoughts from YOU? I’d love to hear what you think (especially if you’re an artist!)

New Art Gallery on the West Coast

Downtown Pleasanton, California

What a weird, unpredictable couple of weeks! I usually do not like unpredictable at all. I like planing my life as best I can. I know that’s impossible sometimes, but still…I try. But I’m so thankful that “unpredictable” isn’t always a scary thing! Let me back up and explain.

A couple weeks ago, the phone rang and I almost didn’t answer it. I totally assumed it was a robocall. Instead, it was a real live, breathing human! It turns out this guy is an artist who'd visited my studio, and in the course of our conversation, he said I should get into a gallery on the west coast; that he sells very well in a few galleries there. I explained that it’s a very difficult thing to find a gallery that fits you well when you live across the country. For example, a local gallery owner friend of mine once told me that she usually gets over a hundred artist requests for gallery representation in her email every week. She just deletes them without even reading them.

So, it turns out this complete stranger said he’d try to hook me up with a gallery he’s rep’d by in Pleasanton, California (in the Bay Area). I mean, who does that? A week later, I got a phone call from the gallery owner who had spent time looking over my website and studying my technique and…he was really interested. After he had a discussion with the gallery manager about what he thought, they sent me a contract for representation. And…I signed it. This is exciting to me for several reasons:

1) I’d love to expand my reach to the west coast.

2) I’d love a tax deductible reason to visit the west coast.

3) I was asked if I could come up with several “vineyard” themed pieces. This TOTALLY excites me. I love the way the rows of grape vines add a geometrical element to a natural landscape. A vineyard is beautiful and peaceful. This theme totally fits what I love to be painting. I can even sell the pieces in my Asheville studio (we have vineyards here too — heck, they’re kind of ubiquitous, you know?)

“…I’d love a tax deductible reason to visit the west coast.”

4) What the gallery has asked for is one large original piece and several prints. So, because of this, I’m going to venture into the world of metal prints. These are a relatively new technique of dye sublimation on a metal surface, creating awesome colors and really emphasizing contrast. I like that, because my paintings are painted on a metal surface. The reason I’ve done very, very few prints before is that compared to an original, the print on paper or canvas is just flat, dead looking. These metal prints glow. I’m excited to try them out and see how it goes. This could open up a lower price point possibility for someone that wants one of my paintings but can’t swing the price of an original.

So, I guess the moral of this story is: When the phone rings, (unless it says “United States” or “Unknown Caller”, answer the phone! You never know who’s on the other end.

"Art from the Heart" vs "Commissioned Art"

There are really so few things that baffle and (to be honest) frustrate me as an artist. I am by nature a very “even keel” type of person, so when something stands out as “irritating”, it’s kind of a big deal for me. See, I regularly come across people that have a very set view of who and what an artist is (even before they meet me). No one likes to be pre-judged and I guess I’m no exception.

See, every now and then, I have people visit my studio and I can tell they like my work. For instance, they may hang out for fifteen to twenty minutes browsing slowly, leave and have lunch, then come back and browse even more slowly. That is usually a pretty good sign someone is genuinely interested in my work. Most of the time, behavior like this eventually results in a sale of one of my paintings or the commissioning of something specific. But every now and then, the couple at this point will look pained. Interested but pained. “Do you have all your work displayed or do you have something else in storage?” they’ll ask. I explain that basically, I don’t have storage. If I need to store paintings, my prices are too high. They smile, and then I explain that if they like something but it’s the wrong size, I can repaint it the right size for them. “No, we’re looking for a painting that is 36 x 48, probably a summer scene but you don’t really have anything that will work for our space”. “Well,” I explain, “if you have a photo you’d like me to use, or if you can give me an idea of something specific that you’d like to see, you can commission a painting based on that idea and size. I don’t charge any more for commissions, and I guarantee your satisfaction with what I paint and I do free shipping as a thank you.”

But then…

“Oh, we would rather just check in whenever we’re back in Asheville and see what you have available. We don’t want to dictate to the artist what they paint. We’d much rather have something that comes from your heart, not ours”.

“…my heart and joy are in every single painting I’ve ever painted.”

You may well think “Oh, that’s so sensitive! What a kind person that is!” Yes, probably. But that drives me crazy. It rattles me because that assumes that the art that comes from my own head will be of higher quality or have “more life and energy” in it than if it comes from the heart of the client. To be clear, the idea behind all the commissions I’ve ever done have come from my clients. But the heart and energy in the piece is from me. I don’t care at all where the idea comes from. I love to paint. May I just be honest? Look, if a client gives me a photo as inspiration for a painting, it saves me all sorts of time hunting down a good photo to use as inspiration for my next piece. No one who has commissioned a painting from me has received a lesser quality painting because it was commissioned by them. Honestly, my heart and joy are in every single painting I’ve ever painted. I simply love painting and I don’t care if that seed idea comes from my own head or from yours. The painting will always come from my heart.

Okay, time for a cup of herbal tea I think. I feel much better now.

More Questions and Answers

A few weeks ago, several of my Facebook followers asked questions about me and my art background. Since then, I’ve been slowly making my way through the answers. Here is the final installment (for now) of answers. But…if something I say here sparks another question, just ask. Thanks!

Did you grow up in Asheville? If not, how did you find it and why did you move there?

I did NOT grow up in Asheville. I tell people around here that I grew up in a town just south of Atlanta (look on a map...Los Angeles is latitudinally just south of Atlanta). I grew up on the west coast. After Joy and I married, we moved to Washington State (the most beautiful place we ever lived) and then crossed the country with our dog and four kids for an adventure...to discover the east coast. Over the next few years, we spent time in Virginia, North Carolina and Florida, but we kept coming back to the mountains of North Carolina for vacation. Several years ago, I got a job with a company that allowed me to work from home, so at that point, "home" could be wherever we wanted it to be, and that was Asheville. We the town because it has such a great vibe and because the people here seemed to celebrate everything outdoorsy. I love that. At that point in time though, I had no idea there was a River Arts District. Once I discovered that, wow...that changed everything.

How did you find your studio?

I was first offered (for free) a six foot wall space in the studio of a friend of mine (Phil DeAngelo). He had told me that if I sold something, I could kick in something for the rent, but if not, the space was gratis. Who does that?? Well, Phil did so I took him up on it and never had to skip a month of rent. A couple years later, I was making about half the $$ from art sales as I was with my "real" job, so I cut down to half time at my job. Within the six months, my art income surpassed the normal annual income of my "real" job, so I quit altogether and never once looked back. A couple years later, the studio Phil and I were sharing was just too crowded, so Phil helped me find my current studio in the Pink Dog Creative building. I love this studio. It's HUGE and it's so nice to be able to spread out and really make it mine. So I've been there for the last six years and am about to sign on for another five.

What kinds of other jobs did you have before you became an artist?

I was an industrial designer fresh out of college, then began a job painting backgrounds for Hanna Barbera cartoons (remember Scooby Doo?). That was an awesome job. But then the company had a fallout with the union and because I was the new guy, I was let go. Then I was a sign designer (which was a sort of nice combination of the design background I got in college and the art background I got at Hanna Barbera). It was a lot of fun really. When we moved to Florida, I became a project manager. At this point, may I interject a helpful suggestion to anyone hiring for a project manager position? Do not ever, ever hire an artist. My brain was designed to focus on one thing hard. Project managers (I found out) focus on several things simultaneously. That is impossible. I was the worst project manager. I felt sorry for my employers. They were kind enough to not lay me off, but I did quit after a couple years of job hell. I think they were probably as happy about my decision as I was. At that point, I went back to sign design because it was easy for me. It was at this point I found a national sign company that would let me work from home. Then I discovered Asheville. For the rest of the story, see the answer to my previous question.

That's it for now. Thanks for your questions! And if you ever have any more, please just let me know. That way, I don't have to wrack my brain regarding what I'll blog about! :)

What does Diversity have to do with honest artwork?

The photo above is my view as I paint. Not bad, right? So this morning, I took a moments break between art projects I was working on and stared out at these trees. And it occurred to me that there are uncountable varieties of foliage just right here in this one scene. They are all broadly the same thing (they are all plants). Most in this photo are more specifically similar in that they are trees (but several varieties). The trees do not make the shorter shrubs look ugly, and the shrubs seem quite comfortable growing alongside the trees without feeling insecure because they’re not as large. Pardon me please, I know I’m anthropomorphizing here, but it really hit me this morning: Diversity when living closely together is really beautiful. That’s at the heart of what makes nature so beautiful as opposed to a man-made garden. Beautiful, natural reality is incredibly diverse, and if what horticulturalists tell us is true, a diverse natural environment will be a healthier environment. If that is the key to real beauty as I suspect, it makes me wonder why we (why I) personally gravitate to people who are just like me. I find my tribe (of my own ethnicity, religion and culture) and then I “otherize” everyone else. Doing that seems so natural to us as human beings. But if there’s a lesson to be learned from nature; if the way nature “does it” applies to us humans too, then I suspect the more we maintain our differences but live our lives immeshed with people who do not look or talk or think like us, the closer results will look like real, natural beauty. But the more we huddle with people that are just like us, the closer we get to what is mundane, boring and even ugly.

“To the extent I mimic in my artwork what I see in front of me here as I paint, to that extent my artwork will be beautiful.”

Imagine a summer hillside panorama — mountains covered with trees. Got it? Okay, now imagine someone hands you a jumbo box of crayons to do a sketch, what color would you grab to depict the trees? Green? Really? Look again. To the left, those trees are in shadow and are almost black. Behind them, the sun is shining bright on something that looks almost yellow. Beside that is a bright green maple tree. As you look farther off in the distance, the more blue green the trees look and in the far off distance, the mountains look light blue gray (although they’re covered with the same green trees that are right in front of you). And everywhere, there are thousands and thousands of wildflowers and uncountable shrubs of various kinds. This is wilderness. And this is what actual, honest real beauty looks like: Awesome diversity of life, living closely together, maintaining their own individuality, all a part of the whole of exquisite beauty.

To the extent I mimic in my artwork what I see in front of me here as I paint, to that extent my artwork will be beautiful. So I notice the intricate differences in shades of color as it moves from left to right across the canvas, and grab different colors of paint to minutely adjust those colors. (As a side note, I never even use the same color blue in a sky — the color of the sky even on a crystal clear day, varies from left to right and top to bottom of what you see. To make my scene look “realistic”, I have to use a variety of colors even to paint something as simple as a blue sky.)

I long to live in a world that is really beautiful. And looking out at nature, I really think God left some clues how to create a society that is really beautiful: Diversity of life, living closely together, maintaining their own individuality, all a part of the whole of exquisite beauty. That sounds so awesome. I can’t make anyone go along with me but if I myself can keep this lesson in front of me for a while and be shaped by it, I think I will be a better, happier (and beautiful??) person.

Questions and Answers

A few weeks ago, I asked my Facebook followers if they had any questions regarding my work as an artist. Wow. Facebook peeps like questions like that. So…here are some questions from y’all and here are my answers:

Do you paint in any other styles besides landscape and an occasional abstract?

Well, no. I don’t paint figures anymore, and no animals. And I don’t paint still life. At this point in my career, I know what sells and I know what I enjoy painting most. Thankfully, it turns out I can make a living painting what I love best (landscapes and abstracts). I enjoy painting so much, but it’s so awesome to actually sell my work to someone that wants to make it a part of their home. What an amazing thing! So I’m always balancing what I love to paint with what I think will sell. Thankfully, they’re usually the same thing.

Do you have periods of artist block as writers often do?

Not really. Painting is so much fun. For me, it’s “life-giving”. That said, I am a huge proponent of taking time to sit and think, sit and feel, sit and pray, sit and do nothing. I am a “navel gazer”. I think that when creatives have a “block”, they need to take that really seriously and take some “down time”. I look at creative expression akin to “exhaling”. If you don’t inhale, you have nothing to exhale. And then you die. I’m not ready for that yet. So I encourage people to be thinking in terms of “soaking in” and “wringing it all out”. I make a living “wringing it all out.” But if I’m not “soaking it in”, I have nothing, and that doesn’t sound like much fun to me.

Is there a specific place you have yet to visit that beckons to you?

Well, funny you should ask.

Daily, I feel the desire to explore more of Italy. COVID has messed with my plans to return there but from the time I left Italy three years ago, I’ve fixated on finding a way to get back and really explore a lot more. I was so taken with the place that I began learning to speak Italian. It’s my hobby, and has become part of my daily routine. And after three years of learning, I’m about as fluent as a three year old! Woo Hoo!

I love Italy for two reasons: the landscape (cool ancient villages perched on hillsides) and the people. I’m an introvert and from what I experienced, I think you’d be hard-pressed finding an introvert in Italy. But rather than irritate me, I find myself fascinated. They’re are such a social people and I really love that. Americans can be so independent and disconnected from each other. It was a beautiful thing to see people interacted like I saw there.

Whenever I visit someplace new, I always come away with ideas for new artwork. I can’t help that. When an artist sees and feels something amazing, they have to express that amazement. We do that with our artwork, and then hopefully sell it!

So…I think I should be able to write the whole trip off on my taxes, right??

And the Next Blog Post is...

I’ve been blogging since 2016, and to me, that’s amazing. I had no idea I had that much to talk about. When I opened up my art studio here in Asheville, I was told in the beginning that blogging was important, so I’ve tried to be consistent but recently I’ve had a had a hard time coming up with an interesting topic. I’m an artist, not a rocket scientist or a biotech engineer, so what I do in my art studio (talking to clients, hanging new paintings in my art gallery, talking with other artists in Asheville’s River Arts District, coming up with new ideas for new creative endeavors), while a lot of fun for me, does not seem like it would be interesting to anyone but myself. Is answering another question about what the “shiny stuff” is on top of my paintings “blog worthy”? I don’t know. But I suspect that just because something is an “everyday” and “normal” task to me as an artist, does not necessarily mean those things are not blog worthy. So…

“…what would YOU like to know?”

So rather than wracking my brain for something that I think might be interesting to a reader, I’m going to just ask the reader what would be interesting to them. I am an artist…an oil painter…I made up a technique I call “Dialuminism”. Dear reader, what else would you like to know? I’ll still come up with topics I would like to explore, but I really do want to regularly be asking gallery and website visitors what THEY would find interesting.

Anyone want to start??

"Mullaghmore": The Story Behind the Painting

“Mullaghmore” (34” x 54”)

A few years ago, Joy and I had the privilege of visiting some dear friends in Ireland. They had moved from the central part of the country to Donegal (on the northern coast). While there, we visited historic villages and castles, forgotten and remote coves, did some amazing hiking on Europes tallest sea cliffs and rented bikes (discovering that riding a bike in the rain can be fun!). This was all in addition to spending some very pleasant hours chatting with our friends.

“I discovered I was just another ignorant American…”

One of the things they wanted to show us were the waves. Not being a surfer, I had no idea Ireland had much in the way of waves. I grew up learning to swim at Malibu and Zuma beaches in southern California, so I thought I had a pretty good standard for measuring what “surf-worthy” waves were. Oh my. I discovered I was just another ignorant American.

The beach we were taken to was called Mullaghmore and aside from the really beautiful setting on the rocky northwest coast of one of my favorite countries in the world, this place had waves. Like MONSTER waves. Like 60’+ waves. I couldn’t believe how powerful the sea was when it decided to seemingly let out all it’s wrath on the rocky coast of Mullaghmore. I also couldn’t believe anyone would want to get out INTO that water (it is really, really cold). The emotions in my head upon seeing the sea that day there included awe and (honestly) fear. These were truly monster waves. So powerful and majestic and raw.

So when Joy and I spent a few days on the coast here in North Carolina a couple weeks ago, I thought of Ireland. Even though the waves at the outer banks were minuscule compared to Mullaghmore, just seeing the power of the sea again made me want to create a painting that encapsulated that power. Asheville isn’t known for it’s waves, being eight hours from the coast, but as I’ve expressed before, sometimes what makes something a good idea worth doing is determined simply by the desire to do it and the fun it creates inside the heart of the creator. This wave, entitled “Mullaghmore” was worth it for me.

A Look Back to "The Dark Year"

Maybe it’s just because this is therapeutic, but I think I need to give a “Year in Review” as far as the strangest and scariest year I can remember: 2020. When it started, I was oblivious to what was to come. We were celebrating the New Year with our kids in Texas, and I was working on a dozen commissioned paintings. 2019 was my best year to date (sales-wise) and I was looking forward to what 2020 would hold for us.

Wow.

In late February, I left Joy in Texas to help take care of our newest grandchild, and I ran back to Asheville to finish up and deliver several of the painting commissions I was working on. But over the couple weeks I was back at my studio in Asheville, as February was giving way to March, the Coronavirus was ramping up and the governor ordered all businesses closed. I still had to work in the studio and was walking in each day, but it was kind of terrifying. The streets were empty and silent. It was like a scene out of “The Walking Dead”. When I got to my studio, I opened the door and wept. I thought this might be the end of my career.

After a couple weeks by myself in an empty, quiet city, I drove back to Texas with a new supply of panels for the next round of commissions. Texas (like everywhere in the world) was still scary, but at least I was not alone there. Our home there is right next door to my daughter and her family and two houses away from my son and his family, so I was painting and playing with grandchildren for the next few months as we waited.

In the mean time, rather than seeing my business shrivel, I was amazed: it was growing. People were ordering commissions from me like they’ve never done before. In 2019 (my best year so far), commissions were about 50% of my total sales), but in 2020, they shot up to about 80%. This amazed me. I figured that when people are worried about the economy completely crashing, who is going to buy artwork? But a client corrected me: “No Steve,” she said. “Especially this year we need artwork. We need to add beauty to our lives especially now.” I’d never actually thought of it that way.

My studio in Asheville really was empty until summer, but then summer was pretty busy. Foot traffic in September seemed “almost normal”. By that point, everyone coming into my studio (from all over the country) seemed fine with the idea of wearing face masks and socially distancing.

By the time the year ended, my sales were right in line with where they’ve been the last several years. 2019 was still the best year so far, but 2020 was not the worst and for that, I’m profoundly grateful.

Because of 2020, I learned that I love to paint at home. I spent the year painting under a couple big maple and hickory trees in my front yard and I found that to be really refreshing. Honestly, I’ve had worse work environments! I’ve also enjoyed the time with my wife and my family. As far as 2021 goes, we’ll see. But the time working from home, without the studio crowds, has given me time to think outside the box and dream and ask myself where I want to be headed and what I want to be doing. I don’t usually have time to ask big questions like that, but in 2020, we all had a lot of down time to think, right?

I’m looking forward to vaccines and truly praying for a return to normalcy in the world; a return to coming close to people again, of shaking hands, of hugging. In the mean time, I will keep dreaming and planning and painting.

Studio Expansion...Hello Northeast!

Joy and I are really excited. We’re expanding! Asheville is awesome and we love being here. There is no better place to sell my artwork than the River Arts District. But Asheville has turned into more than just a home. It’s more like a “home base” now, and the implications of that are pretty huge for Joy and I. Let me explain. 

A couple of years ago, we opened a part time studio in our home in the northern suburbs of Dallas, Texas. That studio has been wonderful. It’s in very close proximity to three of our four kids and nine of our grandchildren. And…Texas has awesome barbecue so it really could be worse, you know? 

This year, we have decided to expand, and open a studio in Pittsburgh, PA, just seven minutes from our oldest daughter and two more grandchildren. We’ve found a row house in the South Side, and has a huge attic space that will be perfect to transform into a cool painting studio. The area of town is awesome. It’s got real character. It’s right across a bridge from downtown, with bike paths, lots of restaurants and hip coffee shops right there. It’ll be a really different experience for Joy and I being right there, creating artwork in the middle of a major city. 

We’ll be renovating the place and using it as an AirBnB when we’re not in town, so…if you’re looking for a super cool place to visit, let us know! We’ll fix you up!

”I guess this means I’ll have to start rooting for the Pirates now, right??”

Between these two remote locations, we’ve got easy access to not only the southeast (where our Asheville home base is) but also the southwest and now the northeast! I’ve got clients all over the country, and this puts me in great proximity to be exploring new local galleries in each general area (it’s much more difficult to find a good gallery if you’re searching from five hundred miles away on the computer). 

So despite the really trying times we’ve gone through the last year (along with everyone else), we have lots of things to be thankful for, and are still dreaming and planning. Because of that, we’re still excited about the future and look forward to creating art (not just selling art) in different parts of the country!

I guess this means I’ll have to start routing for the Pirates now, right??