the accidental artist
Droughts, monsoons, steady rain like winter in Northern California, all of these metaphors describe the creation of watercolor paintings in the subsequent years by this accidental artist. There are dry times, and there are flood times. But, for the grace of God, there ARE times. This book is a collection of some of my favorite pieces produced in the first ten years of my journey as an artist. I hope you enjoy them.
The Summer of 1996 seems like a lifetime ago. In some ways, it is. Coming off an intense decade of career escalation, fractious relationships and high-flying international carpet bagging, the year culminated with the arrival of an angst-filled, take-no-prisoners, teenage daughter who amplified the chaos of an already manic urban life.
Into this manic mess a little watercolor fell. Determined to survive this latest bout of parenting a possessed teenage daughter emotionally and psychically intact, I purchased essential watercolor supplies and retreated to my corner of the kitchen each evening after the dinner dishes were done. There, in comparative peace, I sketched, dipped, washed, layered, and played with my colors. When a “piece” was finished, I tossed it into a pile and began the next. Before long, I had quite an accumulation of painted papers most of which, in my self-deprecating opinion, were “trash”, but they were my trash. I framed several pieces, much like a parent frames the crayon-colored scribbles of a pre-school child, and hung them in the obscurity of my home.
collections on display
At dinner one evening, a friend educated in art history began ranting favorably about the “great art” hanging on my walls. When I confessed to being the “artist” he was astonished. His reaction engendered just a scrap of self-confidence prompting me to show my work to several close friends whose opinions I respect. To a person, they said “Wow”. Buoyed by their positive and supportive reactions, I came out of the artistic closet and slowly went public with my work.