Tall Grass - Part 2, The Gathering

It seems like a lifetime ago when I took a bearing and set sail on my career as a painter, pushing aside my "regular" job (or getting fired to put it bluntly) to focus on my "real" job. As with any extended voyage, there have been many times of uncertainty, fear, and yes... even triumph. Though fear and uncertainty still patrol these waters, they don't seem to board my ship as often as they used to. Triumph, on the other hand, seems to regularly fill my sails with victories both large and small.

There is a great deal of solitude in what I do, both in the studio and the field. In my little creative vacuum, there's very little opportunity for personal interaction with other artists. That lack of creative feedback is often amplified when I'm mired in a project that seems to be draining all my energy without much sign of progress. It can be a nasty cycle of depression and self-doubt when things aren't going well.

 

This year's crew of usual suspects: Cindy House, James Coe, Jim Bortz, Sue Adair, Stephen Quinn, Michael DiGiorgio, Sean Murtha, Barry Van Dusen, Lucia deLeiris

So I was both honored and excited when renowned New England painter, Jim Coe, invited me to attend the "Gathering." Not really knowing what to expect, I cleared my calendar for the proposed dates. I couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity and the 7-hour drive to the Catskills was a small price to pay. From the beginning I knew I'd likely be the first to arrive and the last to leave.

Break time!

I've written before about the energy surrounding a group of likeminded people. It's both exhilarating and exhausting. As it turned out, this was basically a show and tell session for artists... and pretty damned high level artists at that! This included thoughtful critiques and helpful advice... all of which I took to heart.

The entire time I was there, I kept thinking back to a conversation I'd had with Paul Rhymer more than a year ago when he told me, "You've been walking in some tall grass, my friend!" There is however, danger in that tall grass. There is a rush of pure joy that comes from being included with such accomplished artists, each with their own specialties and areas of expertise. Along with the inspiration of talking to and getting advice from such a proficient group, there is a humbling sense of admiration and an almost paralyzing fear of inadequacy. It's easy to take a look at Barry's sketch books and wonder what the hell I'm doing! Tall grass indeed.

I expected to come away with a need to pause and reassess my plotted course, but seem to have instead caught a wave and good wind for my sail. I'm sure my course will shift... as it should... but the direction is "forward"... even if the destination is unkown.

 

 

Tall Grass

I planned this blog post to be about the Waterfowl Festival in Easton, and while it was an exhilarating experience, some things happened during and since that I need to talk about.
As the show opened, the Festival’s featured artist Don Rambadt stopped by my display to chat. Don’s knowledge of art and the skill with which he plies his trade are truly remarkable. I respect his opinion and when he had such nice things to say about my work, he nearly left me speechless.
The two days following the Festival were spent with sculptor Paul Rhymer. It was the first occasion where I’ve spent much time with Paul and it turned out to be one of those experiences that changed the way I look at the world. When Paul originally invited me to spend a couple of days with him, our plan was to simply do some duck hunting. It sounded like fun and, truth be told, I really wanted to take the opportunity to pick Paul’s brain about his art. As it turned out, the duck hunting was less than stellar, but still a lot of fun… and Paul is like a brother I never knew. We spent a considerable amount of time driving from one place to the next and it gave us a chance to talk about a lot of things… from art and business to life in general. We discussed the Birds In Art exhibit we had both attended in September and Paul quizzed me about the plein air painting workshop held after the opening weekend. I told him how much I learned in those four days, but the best part of the entire experience was the privilege of spending time with James Coe and Larry Barth each evening.
The second morning of our hunt, celebrated sculptor Walter Matia joined us in the marsh looking for wood ducks. We never fired a shot, but after breakfast Walter invited us to drop by his studio that afternoon. So we did. What a treat! I’ve admired Walter and his work for years and it was an extraordinary experience to peruse his studio and talk with him about art. I tried my best to keep my mouth shut and just listen to every word.
By the end of that day, I’d watched Paul pour several bronze castings and spent several hours helping with a huge monument sculpture of a big horn sheep that will be unveiled in Tulsa in February 2012. That evening, exhausted and happy, I sat with Paul and his wife Carolyn having pizza and drinking beer. Paul smiled at me and said, “Jim Coe, Larry Barth, Don Rambadt, and Walter Matia… you’ve been walking in some tall grass lately.”
Tall grass indeed my friend. Tall grass indeed J