undiscoveredartist

I feel I must mention a former painting instructor of mine in college. He was this ordinary guy, an abstract artist. I remember him pouring paint on giant canvasses spread out on the floor. He taught us the chemical side of oil painting. What mixes would dry faster, be more luminous, etc. I remember him looking at my small selection of brushes and eyeing the detail brush I was using and saying, “That’s not a brush!”

There was another young lady in the class, and she had a huge brush which had cost her $30. He showed it to me. “Now, that’s a brush!”

He also told me, “If you want a picture, take a photograph.” I know he was right, but to this day, I still love my detail. I wonder today how he is. I recall he liked the Talking Heads. He also told us stories about how he went to New York to become a famous artist and ended up spending his fortune. Perhaps it is not the quest for fame that is the point. Maybe it is the lesson we learn. Even now, in my thirties, recognition is elusive. I know I am not the only one.