I've squinted at the sun since I was a kid.
JD Seated
I first remember painting at six. There were Saturday morning classes at the Civic League in Framingham, Massachusetts. I don’t think I ever begged to go and I’m not sure whether I liked it or not.
My guess is...I must have learned something from the experience.
Oh, and I had coloring books as a kid...all kinds. But I never colored like my friends. I can remember layering color on top of color on top of color...mixing two and three or four shades to make better, brighter greens...richer , more interesting browns. And deep, deep, dark purple shadows.
In sixth grade, my teacher figured I had some kind of artistic ability. There were little drawings on all the papers I turned in. My report covers were spectacular...the content inside, well, I’m not so sure. It was enough for her to send me off to a special Friday afternoon group with the art teacher. I was happy to be there, doing something I liked to do...all the while missing Science class and believe me, I wasn’t really missing Science.
And it was art classes that got me through junior high and high school. I didn’t knock myself out studying (there was that science again), but I read loads of books and filled more than a few sketch pads. I wish I had those pads today. They were filled with pen and ink drawings, copies of movie ads and magazine photographs. One of my dad’s cousins began to feed my hunger for art books. The hunger became an addiction. That library still grows today.
Somehow I made it to college and after two years of education and liberal arts classes I took a class in color theory. All of a sudden I began to understand why I saw the world the way I did. I became fascinated by the ways in which light and color impacts all we see. I took more art classes and began to make the key connections between learning, vision, history, artists, creating, literature, humanities, culture...and life.
Today, most every day, I paint; people, the occasional still life, landscapes--or, a narrative mix of all three. In watercolor, very occasionally oil or pastels, but mainly watercolor...for its puddles, for its light, for its successive approximations of what I see, and for how it allows me to share what I see with others.
My guess is...I must have learned something from the experience.
Oh, and I had coloring books as a kid...all kinds. But I never colored like my friends. I can remember layering color on top of color on top of color...mixing two and three or four shades to make better, brighter greens...richer , more interesting browns. And deep, deep, dark purple shadows.
In sixth grade, my teacher figured I had some kind of artistic ability. There were little drawings on all the papers I turned in. My report covers were spectacular...the content inside, well, I’m not so sure. It was enough for her to send me off to a special Friday afternoon group with the art teacher. I was happy to be there, doing something I liked to do...all the while missing Science class and believe me, I wasn’t really missing Science.
And it was art classes that got me through junior high and high school. I didn’t knock myself out studying (there was that science again), but I read loads of books and filled more than a few sketch pads. I wish I had those pads today. They were filled with pen and ink drawings, copies of movie ads and magazine photographs. One of my dad’s cousins began to feed my hunger for art books. The hunger became an addiction. That library still grows today.
Somehow I made it to college and after two years of education and liberal arts classes I took a class in color theory. All of a sudden I began to understand why I saw the world the way I did. I became fascinated by the ways in which light and color impacts all we see. I took more art classes and began to make the key connections between learning, vision, history, artists, creating, literature, humanities, culture...and life.
Today, most every day, I paint; people, the occasional still life, landscapes--or, a narrative mix of all three. In watercolor, very occasionally oil or pastels, but mainly watercolor...for its puddles, for its light, for its successive approximations of what I see, and for how it allows me to share what I see with others.