So, you're thinking about art as a career?

A client of mine recently told me his high school aged daughter was interested in pursuing art as a career and asked me if they could visit Asheville and have me offer her some words of wisdom and encouragement. I love that. So yes, that meeting is set up for the family to come up the hill to Asheville and I'll try to be as sage-like as possible. 

In thinking about what I would suggest a young artist (ANY young artist) should do as they explore career possibilities, my first suggestion has to be to visit the River Arts District in Asheville. This is a really unique place, in that there are now well over 200 artists all within a square mile, with studios open to the public. I would suggest they spend the day exploring, and make a list of their favorite studios. Then maybe the next day, go back around and ask their favorite artists if they could set up an appointment to ask some questions. I don't know ANY artists here who would have a problem with that. In fact, everyone I know would be more than happy to help and more than honored to be asked. The artists in Asheville are actually selling their art to the public, and since that's the goal (I assume), their input and suggestions would be really invaluable. 

…everyone I know would be more than happy to help and more than honored to be asked.

So, if appointments are made to basically interview the artists, the questions asked are important, so I decided to come up with a suggested list of questions to ask if someone is just beginning to think about creating art as a career. Here is that list:

1) How long have you been an artist?

2) How long have you been selling your work professionally?

3) Did you go to art school? If so, where?

4) For a high schooler interested in pursuing art as a career, would you recommend art school?, if so, how would you find the right one? 

5) Would you mind critiquing my work at some point? (But don't ask that question unless you're really open to hearing criticism.)

6) What are the positive points and negative points about having an "open studio"?

7) How do you price your work?

8) Do you advertise? If so, what seems to have worked well for you and what hasn't? What percent of your budget goes to advertising?

9) How do you manage the business side? 

• Where do you have your art supplies?

• How do you keep track of inventory so you always have what you need?

• How do you keep track of sales tax?

• Do you accept credit cards? What’s involved with that?

10) Do you have your work in galleries? How do you find the right galleries?

11) Where do you get inspiration for your work?

12) What do you do if you get a mental block? 

I'll be forwarding these questions to my clients and their daughter in a couple weeks, but I thought it might be helpful to anyone else who is considering art as a career to spend a blog entry for each question. So, stay tuned. Soon to come...my own answers to all these questions, hoping to help anyone who is interested to make the jump from being an amateur artist to being a full time professional artist. 

"What inspires you as an artist?"

This week, I had the privilege of spending some time with one of my clients up in Pittsburgh, PA. I really enjoy the social part of what I do. The actual creation of artwork is very much a solitary “in my headspace” kind of work, so balancing that intense introvert time with some extrovert social time is a very necessary and wonderful thing. During that time shared, my client Josh asked me a question: “What inspires you as an artist?” I gave my short answer, but I’ve been thinking about that question for the last few days and figured it would help if I wrote down my answer.

When I take the time to really think deeply about what fans creativity in me — what inspires me to create, I keep coming back to one primary thing: When I paint, I basically am attempting to play God. I am trying to create a perfect world, albeit just in my artwork. I know that’s just me. There are so many artists both now and through history who don’t look at their artwork like I do. There are artists like Goya who used their work to shock the viewer as he attempted to use his artwork to display the really horrors of war. He was amazing. But I wouldn’t want a Goya hanging on my living room wall. It would creep me out. Please hear me — I’m not devaluing art that is like that. I can see the value and really do appreciate the fact that because art can “get into the soul of the viewer”, art created to provoke or instruct or shock the viewer is an absolutely valid way to use art. That’s just not me.

When I paint, I basically am attempting to play God.

I am busy trying to Eden. No big deal, right? That sounds really crazy or immensely egotistical but that really is at the heart of what I’m doing. With my artwork, I’m trying to imagine a world where there is always beauty, where this is no war, no death or sickness or sadness, where there are no power-hungry politicians or narcissistic leaders. A world where swords are not beaten into plowshares because swords never existed I the first place. That’s the world I am trying to create with my artwork: the world I’m looking for. When people have looked through my gallery and say, “I love your work. There’s just something really calming about it”, I smile to myself. “Calming about it?,” I want to say. It’s Eden. That place still calls to us. I suspect we’re all trying to create that perfect world, and stumble all over ourselves and everyone else because we’re attempting to create a place that by definition is perfect, and we are not. How do we make a world where there is no selfishness when we are selfish, or a world where there is peace and tranquility when there is war inside our own heads?

The answer to that question deserves a very long book and not a blog post. But if you look back at my artwork posted here on my website, you can see that longing, that reaching out to a world I wish was real, which (maybe???) CAN one day be real? Until it is real, my goal is to live my life as if it were real...To treat people the way I would treat them were we to be living in one of my landscapes so to speak. I’m not very good at that because I’m a very selfish person and hurt people as often as I encourage them. But no matter how old I get and no matter what my life path has led me through to date, I cannot shirk the longing for that place. That place I’ve never seen or fully experienced, but I’ve felt it so very close from time to time. And those brushes with the sublime, with the utterly holy — that is what fuels my creativity. THAT is why I paint what I paint.

Should I buy a completed painting OR commission a painting?

I have had several people over the years ask me a familiar question: “What pieces do you have done right now that are in my budget?” I can appreciate that question, but that really limits what the next step my perspective client takes next. I mean, maybe I happen to have the exact size and subject matter they’re looking for. Maybe, but not usually.

I then present the option of commissioning a piece from me, but about 70% of the time, the person who would be willing to purchase a completed piece from me seems hesitant to commission a painting, which is a shame. The already completed pieces of art on my studio wall are there to show people what I’m capable of creating. If one of those pieces speaks to them, that’s awesome, but primarily, I want those pieces to get people thinking and dreaming.

“When I paint, no matter what I’m painting, I’m in my happy place.”

So is buying a completed painting or a commissioned painting better? Well personally, I like both. But I really like working on commissioned pieces. Here is why:

1. You can match the size to perfectly fit the budget. I charge by the square inch, so the size determines the budget. If something is more than the budget can support, we can just shrink it a bit so that the bottom line total is something you can live with.

2. You can pick this exact subject matter for the piece. I’ve had the privilege of painting scenes I’d never think of painting and trying to sell in my Asheville studio. People have asked me to paint a scene based on their rafting excursion amidst antarctic icebergs, canals of Venice, mountains of New Zealand, and so many other awesome places. This is what makes my job really interesting and challenging!

3. I don’t charge any more for commissions. I charge the same per square inch rate for a commission as I do for a completed piece.

4. You can get creative! I currently have a perspective client that found a sky they like from one photo, the background from another photo, the mid ground from another photo and the foreground from yet another photo. The colors and lighting don’t go together perfectly as is, but I’ll deal with that. That’s my job.

5. I ship anywhere in the lower 48 states free of charge, which saves you paying any sales tax if you live outside North Carolina.

6. I completely guarantee your satisfaction with a commission. If you’re not totally happy with it, I’ll start it all over again, and keep going until you ARE happy with it. I’ve never had to do that before, but I always stress my willingness. I don’t want anyone worrying about purchasing something they end up not liking. I also send a photo near the end of the painting process for my client to take a look at and request tweaks if needed. I’m always happy to tweak a piece upon request, and keep tweaking until they’re totally happy with it.

7. Upon request, I allow people to pay over time at no added interest. When the last payment is received, the painting is shipped.

I love painting. When I paint, no matter what I’m painting, I’m in my happy place. And it continues to be such an amazing honor to be asked by people to paint something specific for THEM. I absolutely love that. So…if you have an idea and if I happen to have just painted something that matches that idea perfectly, awesome. Talk to me about a purchase. But if you have a specific budget or size or subject matter in mind, talk to me about a commission. I would love to work with you on whatever project you dream up! It’s my job to make sure you never regret that decision.

"How do you Price Your Work?"

I remember when I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist and so, like a lot of would-be artists, I went to art school. They taught us about art history, how to create a dynamic composition, color theory and pretty much everything an artist needs to go out and create a masterpiece. “Pretty much everything” is the key phrase here. The one thing they never mentioned was how to price and sell our artwork. I totally understand that you can’t cover EVERYTHING an artist needs to know in an art school but uh…that little detail seems kind of important.

Over the years, I’ve worked with artists that set their prices based on different criteria. I’ve worked with one artist that set a price of $500,000 on some of his pieces. To him, that’s what it was worth. Then he’d tell people not to be intimidated by the price on the tag, that he’d work with them. He’d follow them out of the studio asking “What do YOU want to pay for it?” I am not making this up. I didn’t see him sell many paintings by the way, which is too bad because I thought he was an excellent artist. He just was never told how to price a painting. His prices were completely subjective.

I don’t price my work that way. I was taught in the beginning of my art career to price by the size; by the square inches of the piece. This way, the only subjective point is at the very beginning — where you start. The first piece I finished for sale in my very first studio in Asheville was at $2.25 per square inch, and I was really excited because my paintings started selling. Then they were selling TOO fast. I couldn’t keep up with it so…I raised the prices to $2.50 per square inch and that slowed sales down just enough. A year later, I had to raise prices to $2.75. I’m now at $3.35 and inching toward $3.50.

The important thing to note is that the ONLY time I arbitrarily set my prices was at the very beginning. But even then, I looked around at what other artists were charging for their work so I had SOME idea of the ballpark to be in. Since then, sales entirely set the price. If sales slow, I keep prices steady, and I’m not above lowering the rate. When, over some months, I see that I’m selling faster than I can paint them, I bump everything up slightly. Understand, I am not bumping prices so I can make more money. I’m bumping prices because a professional artist HAS to have paintings on their wall that are for sale. I pay a premium on studio rent, and if I have empty walls, you might think that’s a good thing because I’m selling my work. But empty walls is ultimately disastrous to an artist’s career. New studio visitors will not consider buying a piece of art that is not there. I HAVE to have a studio full of paintings in order to make a living in this profession. And that means I simply let the rate of sales dictate the price.

Pricing this way is also the easiest way to defend my price to someone who questions why the heck I think this or that piece is worth the number I have on the tag. But really, I DON’T “think” that piece is worth anything in particular. My sales are what set the price on the tag. You can argue with me, but you can’t argue with sales.

So if today, I were to complete a painting that has a price of $500,000, the size would be around 25’ x 42’. Dear reader, if you by chance have a wall that is crying out for a 25’ x 42’ painting (and a 500K budget), please contact me today! Short of that, I will keep painting sizes that I can sell. :)

An Artist in Italy (Part 3)

Alberobello, Italy

I’ve mentioned that one of the things I learned from my time in Italy last September was to look for the most popular places (most likely to be overrun with tourists) and NOT go there. For the most part, that was the rule. But…with every rule, you can make exceptions. We just really tried to make those exceptions with some wisdom. Sometimes, that worked. Like…Alberobello.

“…with every rule, you can make exceptions…”

Alberobello is an amazingly weird little town in Puglia (the heel of the boot of Italy). It’s filled with all these little beehive houses called “Trulli”. And let’s please get it right…when speaking of one of these, it’s “a TRULLO” and when you’re speaking of many, THEY are “TRULLI.” So the town is filled with trulli. They’re everywhere. Many of them have been converted to shops. We stayed in an Airbnb about five kilometers outside of town and IT was a trullo. THEY ARE COOL. The artist in me was so excited seeing these odd, old little stone structures.

“Gosh,” you say, “If I were visiting Puglia, I’d want to see Alberobello!”. Yes, you would and you should. You and thousands of other tourists. Thousands. But like I said previously, this was an exception worth making. I knew this awesome little town was super popular with tourists. So we stayed five kilometers away just outside of another little town called “Locorotondo”. IT was amazing…winding, narrow little streets and all the homes inside the ancient city walls were whitewashed. It was beautiful. AND see, here’s the thing…being so close to Alberobello was awesome for Locorotondo because all the international tourists filled Alberobello and left Locorotondo to Italian tourists (and Joy and I). See how this strategy works???

Locorotondo, Italy

So one thing that I learned in Puglia turned out to be really important to file away in the “never forget this” folder in my brain. Here’s the rule: Never, ever eat a melon without first washing it. I had no idea you were supposed to wash a freaking melon before cutting into it but that’s what happened. It was absolutely wonderful — one of the sweetest melons I’ve ever eaten. And…apparently was covered with salmonella. This kind of wrecked the next day, and the next, and the next. I’d read that usually, symptoms resolve themselves for most people after five days. Well, seven days later I was on the verge of going septic. I don’t ever remember feeling this horrible. Thankfully, I got onto a regimen of Cipro and within about twelve hours, I was feeling mostly normal. We went on to visit Pompeii and then had the last two wonderful days in Rome. I loved Rome. What a charming and beautiful city. But, that two day visit to Rome changed the next couple months of my life. See, after two years of being careful to wear masks in crowded public places (you know where this is going now, right?), and since everyone around us in the trains and buses weren’t wearing masks, all signs were that COVID was a thing of the past. YAY! I was lured into blissful complacency. Two days after arriving back home, both Joy and I tested positive for COVID and folks, it was NOT like a bad cold. Now (two months later), I am finally feeling normal.

“Never, ever eat a melon without first washing it.”

So I can’t wait to go back to Italy. I’ll be avoiding the overly touristy areas, washing melons (washing EVERYTHING I EAT), bringing a mask and eating the most amazing pasta anywhere on earth. Io amo l'Italia!

In my next post, I’ll share three of the paintings I’ve completed now, based on photos I took on this trip. I’m sure there are a lot more painting possibilities amongst my photos but they’re a good start.

An Artist in Italy (Part 2)

Pacentro, Italy

I was talking to someone the other day and mentioned I’d just gotten back from visiting Italy, and he then asked me about the crowds. “It’s so touristy!” he said. “I want to go somewhere less crowded”. I get that, but the problem is not that there are too many tourists in Italy. The problem is that all the tourists are looking at the same instagram feeds while planning their itinerary.

One awesome thing I tried when planning my itinerary was how to work around the “Instagram affect”. So I googled “Less visited parts of Italy”. I discovered one of the least visited regions (by American tourists) is the region just east of Rome: the region of Abruzzo. So I checked it out. It looked beautiful — Lots of cool hilltop towns and lots and lots of mountains begging to be hiked and explored. So then I googled “most interesting places to see in Abruzzo”. And that sort of planning made for a wonderful time for us. Planning the itinerary this way, we discovered one of my very favorite towns (perched on a mountainside) called Pacentro. It was a friendly place for tourists, but not overrun by tourists at all. I heard no English conversation at all. If there were visitors, they were mostly Italian.

The problem is not that there are too many tourists. The problem is that the tourists are all looking at the same Instagram feeds while planning their itinerary.

This town is ancient, with narrow, stone streets winding their way up the mountainside to the castle. In the old part of town (where we stayed), there were no cars allowed on the streets (hard to fit a car on a 6’ wide “street”!) Joy and I loved this place. In the morning, we’d open the windows and hear the jovial conversation of neighbors. When we’d come back in the evening, we’d grab something to cook at the local (very small) grocery store and then go back home and cook dinner. But then — in Italy, after dinner there is a ritual: the passeggiata. This is when the whole town walks around and meets their friends at one of the cafe’s for a coffee or a glass of wine. Joy and I walked across town to the small park overlooking a large valley below, and then slowly made our way back home, passing the main piazza filled with people sitting, chatting, and laughing quietly. Understand, this is not a nightly “party”. They’re not at all being loud. They’re just all seemingly enjoying each other. In Pacentro, I heard no TV on at all. As an American, if I were home at 8:00 PM, I’d be watching Netflix. Instead, these people were sitting around the fountain in the piazza, sitting on doorsteps, sitting in outdoor cafe’s — all just spending time with each other. This seemed really beautiful to me. I’m an introvert, but even I could recognize the beauty in this ritual. I loved Pacentro.

So the first and one of the most important lessons on trip planning was this: find the most beautiful of the less visited areas of wherever you’re traveling to. Planning like that scored big time for Joy and I. The last week of our trip, we threw out all this reasoning and lived to regret it big time. More on that next.

An Artist in Italy (Part 1)

This is one of the photos currently becoming a painting! I took it on an amazing hike we took just east of Pacentro, Italy.

Five years ago, I visited Italy, and ever since, I’ve been trying to figure out how and when we could get back there. Italy is not for everyone, but it’s definitely for me. Upon returning from Italy in 2017, I begin learning Italian. I was serious. I began discretely passing on little news articles to Joy about Italian villages offering homes for 1 euro. Joy has become very good at rolling her eyes.

Despite the realization I would never relocate to a hilltop village in Italy, Joy and I were finally able to visit again in early September of this year. Upon arriving in Rome, we headed directly east to Abruzzo, and then south into Puglia. Oh, Italy did it’s work on me, and I’m so glad. I’ll never really be the same.

If you’re still reading this, you might have realized that this blog post has little to do directly with “art”, but my experience there had a lot to do with creativity and life in general, and that all informs the artwork I do. I feel the need to write down my thoughts. So if you’re reading this, be aware this is going to be more of a journal entry than a typical blog post.

So, here we go:

What I learned from Italy, Part 1

First of all, and probably most importantly, Italy completely confronts my tendency to feel like I’m in control of my life. In Italy, Italy controls your life. From the first moments after picking up our rental car and wondering how the heck to get out of the airport (the signage was not AT ALL clear on this), the American in me threatened to bristle and think “well why don’t they have better signage???” (i.e. “why don’t they do things like Americans?”)

Literally, countless times every day, Joy and I were confronted with the fact that life is just really approached differently in Italy than in the United States and that is exactly why I wanted to visit this place again. I can’t tell you how emotionally healthy it felt to just take a deep breathe, sigh, and say (over and over again like a mantra), “I want to do this or that, but…we’ll see.” You’d have to know me to understand that that just is not me. My kids would probably all agree I have a Type A personality (which is why I need to visit places like Italy). See, in Italy, all my plans had to be held very loosely in order to enjoy the place at all. I had every day pretty much all planned out, but Italy dictated that I hold those plans in an open palm, and to be open to practically anything changing those plans. At that point, I was confronted with a choice: I could either really dig in my heals and fight it and wish I’d gone to Germany or England instead, OR give into it and roll with it, letting Italy shape me like I was a lump of clay on a potters wheel and Italy was the potter. I chose the latter and I’m so glad I did.

Italy was absolutely exhausting and absolutely wonderful. I probably almost died there, and unrelated to that, I took home a souvenir that made me more sick than I ever remember being in my life. But I’m ready to go back. I love that place and have lots of stories and reflections I want to share.

Next time.

When Remodeling a Home...

WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

Waiting until AFTER you remodel the space to consider artwork may be a really bad idea!

I paint and I sell my paintings. That’s my job. One of the biggest parts of this process is working with clients who have just remodeled, or are considering remodeling their home. A comment I often hear from people who are knee deep in remodeling is, “We just realized we have all these walls we need artwork for!”

Yep. That’s often part of the remodeling process. When you build more walls, you create…uh…empty wall space. I love that because it keeps me employed but oftentimes, artwork is the very last thing to be considered when working on a remodel. This is sad because by then, the budget is gone and unfortunately, artwork is not free.

The placement of artwork is really important though, and it should be considered early on in the process. I’m not saying you need to have all the artwork pre-selected before starting remodeling. That isn’t wise. What I’m saying is that you should plan on walls where you want to install key pieces of artwork. Pre-plan those areas because it’s easy at that point to install the correct lighting above the where the artwork will go. It’s so much more difficult to retrofit a space after the fact. And why pay thousands of dollars for a statement piece of art and not have it lit correctly? That just doesn’t make sense.

For a really helpful list of things to consider when remodeling a home, check out this link to a Redfin blog post I was asked to be a part of: Redfin’s Living Rome Remodel Tips. Artwork isn’t the only thing to consider, but it’s usually the last thing people consider and at that point, people are kicking themselves because artwork can theme a room, elicit emotions, pull together colors, and basically put a huge exclamation point on a great design.

Artwork is really important. Buy it on a whim. Yes please. But when you’re remodeling, PLAN AHEAD for it. And feel free to talk to me. Give me a sense of your taste, color samples, emotions you want people to feel when entering the space. All that helps. The right artist will collaborate WITH you and create something that is perfect not just for your space, but for your individual personality. That’s the amazing power of art.

How to Handle Failure

I’ve been super busy lately. Hint: I hate being super busy unless I’m super busy painting. I hear you can have too much of a good thing, but that rule of thumb does not apply to my artwork (not so far anyway). I get lost in my artwork. It’s really my very happy place.

Until last Wednesday.

I was working on a series of three pieces that will be hung together (as a triptych). It was a pretty simple scene — mountain ranges and sky. I know how to paint mountain ranges and sky so I figured that this was going to be pretty simple. I began to apply the paint day after day and eventually, the piece entered “the ugly stage”. So far so good. See, every painting I ever have done has gone through that dreaded “ugly stage”. That stage is where most fledgling artists stop and throw their canvas against the wall and shout out some colorful French obscenities. The thing about the ugly stage is that usually, the very next day, the piece rounds the corner and begins to take on some maturity — it starts to look like what you intended it to look like. That is such an awesome thing. That turning point happens within a day or two of entering that ugly stage.

Until last Wednesday.

I could not make this painting idea work. It was boring. It was ugly and I was coming to the realization that the ugly I was seeing was not just a stage. It was really bad. I’ve heard gallery visitors tell their children, “Oh sweetie, just remember…there are NO MISTAKES in art”.

IF ONLY.

I make mistakes. What you do with the mistake is what will sink you or what will propel you as a creative person into a completely different direction. But oh man, it’s so difficult. I hate failure.

I refrained from throwing the canvases across the room, and I don’t know French swear words and I don’t say English swear words so I was really stuck. I felt so discouraged and frustrated. My painting was ugly and boring. And that is not okay. I sat with that realization and had to just admit that I was not perfect and that THAT was okay.

By the time evening came, I was ready to just scrape off what I’d begun painting and start all over again with a different idea. The “ugly stage” bested me. I think my real problem was that I wanted to just knock out something easy — so I painted mountain ranges and sky. I can do that in my sleep. It turns out that laziness and pride is not the friend of creativity. When I do the best work is when I approach a subject with joy, curiosity, respect and reverence and that is definitely not how I approached my failed triptych.

Maybe creativity needs silence to be ignited.

So at 2:30 AM, I woke up. In that very quiet and still time of the night, nothing was in my head at all. My mind was a completely blank canvas (pardon the pun). And quite unbidden, I instantly saw in my head an idea I’d never thought of before. And then I got so excited, I walked up to my attic studio and seriously contemplated starting to scrape off my old composition so I could begin the new idea right then and there. With wisdom not my own, I decided that idea was over the top and that I needed sleep so…several hours later I began to transform this triptych into something completely different than I’ve ever done before. And I’m having so much fun with it, that I’ve started an additional single painting using the same technique I’m using for the triptych!

Why moments of insight can’t come at 2:00 PM rather than 2:00 AM is unknown to me but that’s often how it works. Maybe creativity needs silence to be ignited. Maybe my heart needs stillness to be able to hear the voice of the real Creator. I don’t know. It feels mystical though.

When I’m done with these pieces. I’m so excited and continue to have so much fun doing what I do. And I’m so thankful people are willing to part with their money in exchange for one of my paintings. That is amazing and humbling.

So, more than ever, I am committed never to forget my real task: to approach every subject I paint with joy, curiosity, respect and reverence, even if it means I need to slow down and be quiet in order to make sure that happens.

"What is it like being an artist these days?"

“Le Canal du Midi”

This week, I was talking to some studio visitors and they wanted to know a bit about my background and how I came up with my technique. I’m used to questions like that, but then they asked about what it’s like being an artist today. And I thought that was a really good question. Pre-COVID (remember those days??) that would have been a relatively easy question to answer. Being an artist is fun! I can (and have) done other jobs. This art thing is not a “job”. This is life. Painting for me is “life-giving”and I absolutely love it. Having a studio in Asheville, North Carolina where I can share my artwork with literally thousands of visitors every year is amazing. What an awesome privilege. How many artists around the country would love the chance to create their art within such an awesome community of artists here in Asheville? Pre-COVID, that would basically have been my answer.

Now, two years into the pandemic and feeling fairly hopeful about all that, my answer honestly is more contemplative and sober. These days, with wars and political discord and cultural polarization, I honestly have gone through weeks feeling really superfluous being an artist. I mean honestly, when the economy is tanking and all the headlines are depressing, it’s really easy to feel like what I do is unimportant and not really “necessary” to anyone but me.

But even during the darkest days of COVID and during this economically “uncertain” time, I make sales. I don’t understand, but I am still making sales and breaking my own records. I am confused and absolutely full of thankfulness. My clients are so, so encouraging and especially during the last couple years, I’ve really received that encouragement with a sense of thankfulness and awe. One 2021 client in Oklahoma said “especially now, I need artwork on my walls that makes me feel what your painting makes me feel. They take me somewhere else. Thank you!”

“I am confused and absolutely full of thankfulness…”

This is so encouraging and really humbling. I am feeling now like I need to take every painting, every creative project really seriously. This work I do isn’t just to create something that looks nice on a wall. What I want to do is to affect people. During times of uncertainty, grief, fear, frustration and anger…if I can, I’d like to create something that brings a sense of peace; something that will inspire imagination and curiosity in the viewer. I want to create something that will “take them away” to a peaceful place if only for a few minutes. If ALL of us did that, this world would be an awesome place to call home.

I can’t change the world for everyone. But if everyone changed the world for one person, that would really be something. I try to do that with the only thing I know how to do well…art. What do you enjoy doing? How could you use that to encourage the life of one person this week? You up for that? If so, I’d love to know any details you’d like to share. I think this planet, these people (broken though we are) are really worth investing in. THAT is why I do art now.