Q&A with Artist

Are you one of those people who grew up wanting to be an artist?

Are you kidding me? I ran from art classes in school. My mother used to tell everyone that I was the kid “without an artistic bone in her body.” You must understand that my parents were children of the depression and, for them, art was a dalliance. They wanted me to become a lawyer, pursue money -- not art. Painting pretty pictures or writing were indulgences for rich kids.   

                                                  
Then, what brought you to painting?
 
It was a circuitous path that landed me here. I always loved art, visited museums, poured over art books. But I knew better than to try my hand at painting. I didn’t have the right bones, and that was all there was to it. While I toyed with the idea of law school, I had a successful career in the insurance business. By the time I was 35, I had developed a serious hobby in photography, was showing my work, winning awards, and getting my pictures published. I wanted to put the words with the pictures. I returned to college and took journalism classes, and, subsequently, was hired by the local newspaper as a feature writer. I freelanced for magazines and newspapers, for politicians and corporations. I worked as a garden designer. When I went through an extended period of care giving, I yearned for another creative outlet. One day, I signed up for a painting class. I was hooked. 

 
What is it that drives you to paint?

I’ve enjoyed every stop along my pathway. But, for me, the passion is painting. The joy of telling my stories on canvas. It’s as simple as that. Which reminds me of a quote by Edward Hopper: “If I could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.” 

 
What artists have influenced you?
 
J.M.W. Turner and Richard Diebenkorn. The last time I went to Washington, D.C., I had a mystical experience with Diebenkorn at the Phillips Collection. I sat on a wooden bench in a room on the second floor, staring at three of his large figurative works. Stared and stared. I made several trips around the corner to study the painting he loved by Matisse. Studio, Quai St. Michel. I walked to lunch and returned, unable to resist another visit with Diebenkorn. A guard interrupted my trance to say he’d never seen anyone look for so long at the same work. I could look at the man’s work forever. And, of course, I love the wildly gestural work of Cy Twombly.