Flashback Friday

This was something I did a long time ago.  By a long time ago I mean more accurately 25 years ago.  Looking at it now, I can attest that I was never a gifted painter, just a weekend warrior type - self taught with remarkably little talent.  I wonder what would have happened had I taken art in school;  if Dr. LaMore never had that mandatory class that swept me off my feet?   What do artists end up doing?   Starving?  

Twenty-five years ago I was probably as happy as I thought I could be:  secure job that I loved, married 7 years with 2 new kids that were neat as all get-out.   Home ownership, projects, lots of time off, wanting an old car, relative peace and few personal or emotional headaches.  But that was then. 

I kind of went through a phase when I was working on portraiture, but then decided I wasn't good enough so I gave it up and moved on.  For all of you who may have a portrait I did, please feel free to go down into the basement or up to the attic, grab the monstrosity and destroy it.  Just to emphasize my dramatic artistic career careen I followed up portraiture with doing houses.  I was much better painting a porch than a face, so at that point I stopped trying and never went back.  I actually sold a painting of a lady's house in Oneida.  It was my first ever commission work, and my last.  All the other ones have been gifts.  

But the story of this painting is somewhat interesting.  Originally it had myself, the present Mrs. Blythe and Mackenzie, based on a photo.   The large dark area is the spot where the present Mrs. Blythe was and as you can see isn't.   Yep, just painted right over.  That's the easy part - grab a brush, mix some nondescript background color and wipe away your mistakes.  If only life was as easy.  Also, the kid was originally Mackenzie but Brendan rightly told me that I had already done a couple paintings of her, so I transplanted him where she was.   It is a lot like posing a picture - some are willing, others less so.  Tall in the back, short in the front.  

I always liked that we were wearing Met's shirts; I still am a fan (with considerably less gusto) and so is Brendan, although since being down here and seeing what a real good baseball organization can be, he is torn.  But then, we were buds, brothers in the bond, as it were.  

What would be interesting is to re-do this painting now and see what is different, what improves and what doesn't.  There are two ways I could do it:  same painting, same time period.  Or, get Brendan and I to pose together.  That sounds kind of neat, but then again, there was a reason I moved on to houses.  What skills have I improved on - what will never look good?  How would I render flesh today?  Winkles in the shirts? Or would I start and see the hopelessness of it, and that would be the end of it, another bit of canvas in the landfill?

How things change.   A twenty-five year span does not guarantee improvement in artistic skills or in life.  Today some of the joy of existing seems to be gone.  Christmas, a time I especially loved, seems more of a chore than a euphoria.  Bedlam sucks, as does Florida, and I'd race up to Northlandia but my Norah is here.   Kenzie and Brendan can do quite nicely without me, but Norah, well, she needs me, and I her.   Remember that slap Cher gave Cage in Moonstruck with the comment, "Snap out of it!"  Well, I need to snap out of it.  

So, will 2015 be a year of change?  What does it take for meaningful change?   Planning, commitment and purposeful action.  Just like painting a picture.  This time of year trumpets the bugle charge, I best keep working on those improvements, because its hard to tell where I'll be in another twenty five years.