The Art of Adventure

One of the things that I like about myself is that I like to learn. Sometimes that is book learning; sometimes that trying a new food; and yes sometimes that means learning a new skill. I have had mixed results. Golf for example.. what I learned was the golf is frustrating and welll... I dont like to be frustrated. But recently I was introduced to Oil Painting. First on a trip to Key West where I was given an opportunity to apply paint to a large mural project... and then late last year when a friend offered to put me on the right path. Wow! is the only response I can muster that even comes close to doing this feeling justice. I really want you to understand... Ive gotten positive comments on the paintings that Ive created... but thats not what brings the "Wow!" ... That feeling is illicited from the sheer thrill of choosing a subject; snapping a hundred photos; mixing colors and then putting paint on canvas. The process combined with the end result gives me an amazing warm feeling inside. Ive tried hard to share that feeling in this post. Feel free to let me know how Ive done. Enjoy Dave ************************************************************************************* “Van Gogh”, “Monet”, “Renoir”, “Honaker”. I like the way that sounds, but let’s be clear, I’m not comparing myself to these great impressionist artists. I can however now fully understand the thrill they must have felt from putting bold strokes of paint onto canvas. Last October I was speaking with local artist and close personal friend Cheryl Bosch (also known as Ceebs) when she offered to guide me in the ways of Oil Painting. Oil paint was my idea, because I have been inspired by local artists like Michael Dean and Ed King and I wanted to make bold strokes of paint. Cheryl has a unique perspective. Structures, people, animals and landscapes all captured first by photograph and then created on canvas with a style and palette that is all her own. On the day that I went to her studio to paint she was working on a large portrait of a confident, well heeled gentleman with bold dreadlocks. The detail in subtle shades of light reflecting off of his skin and the way that she had captured his eyes make you ‘feel’ the person in the painting. In contrast, I chose a simple picture of red and green chili peppers to paint. It was perfect for my beginning skill level, yet there was enough detail in the picture that I had chosen to work from that I would have to work with the paint to show colors and textures. I thought it would be easy, it was not. Though there is an emphasis on being ‘creative’ there is quite a bit of process involved. I began mixing paint colors trying to match as closely as possible the colors from my original. I was surprised to find that these peppers were not just red and green. There were shades of those but also yellows, whites and browns that my eyes had previously taken for granted. I had to look at things differently in order to truly ‘see’ all of the detail. “Fat over lean” Cheryl would say guiding me with the fact that I needed to create the images first and then accentuate them as each layer of paint would dry. She was an excellent teacher. It was a thrill loading up my brush to create each nuance of light or of a barely seen shadow. Deciding the right mixture of colors, the right brush, the right spot and then making the stroke was somehow emotional and thrilling. At times I would get timid with the paint I didn’t want to mess up what was somehow becoming true “art”. I had to encourage myself to just let go and let it be what it was going to be. When it was done I stood back to see what I had accomplished and was amazed. The shapes I had painted actually looked like peppers. It looked like the original only better. The colors popped off of the canvas. I really didn’t know that I could create like that. I was sure it was beginners luck (and Cheryl’s expert tutelage). Fast forward to March 2009. I got a call from another local artist Mirinda Reynolds stating that Liberty Town was having a juried show “Feast For the Eyes” and she thought my Peppers would be a nice addition. I was concerned about my creation being judged. Once you write a column or sing a song or paint a painting, it’s out there like a piece of you on display to the world. And I had no confidence in my abilities. Yet, two days after submitting it, I got the call. My peppers were accepted into the show!! My painting would hang in the gallery for a month with the art of many talented local artists. I have done eight or nine paintings since the peppers. Surprisingly each one has brought that thrill and subsequent amazement. I’m hooked let’s add “Painting” to the list of adventures. ************************************* Click on the pictures above to see more of my artwork.

Attitude is Everything

Hi.. Ive got to tell you .. Attitude, especially a bad one has plagued me my entire life. When I say that out loud most people who hear it act surprised. I should just say that what happens in my brain is very different from what shows on the outside. Why is this important? Well, Ive found that a Bad attitude actually dictates the outcome of whatever it is that your trying to accomplish. In my life, I dont start yardwork, cause it will be too hard, or I talk myself out of a hard workout because I will hurt tomorrow. And as you may guess, very often yardwork doesnt get done and I dont achieve my fitness goals. Lets vow together to focus on whats in front of us and let our attitude reflect that moment in time rather than our perception of what might happen or what has happened in the past. I think we will all be better for the effort. Enjoy this months post Dave ********* I am under no illusions about my running abilities. I was first “recruited” to run in High school. My brother, driven by some unknown force could run the mile in sub 5 minute time. So by virtue of blood, I must be able to run fast too!? Not true. I never actually came in last in our track meets but I frequently shook hands with the last place participant, in a celebration that was more like a kinship of survival rather than sportsmanship. These days, my normal 2 times per week run is 3 miles at a slow pace. …. I have opted for comfort over speed. I was invited to join the local runners group for a run. They meet at 8 am, every Saturday morning at Hyperion. Upon my arrival groups began forming. I had to decide where I fit. There were the fast guys, who despite the low 30’s temperature were in shorts and tee shirts. I guess they didn’t expect to be outside long enough to get cold. This was not my group… There were the folks who expected to go longer distances keeping them running for a couple hours. They had water dispensers strapped around their waists in what looked like superhero utility belts. Again, not my group… Then there were those I like to think of as the normal people. Those going moderate distances at what I consider a moderate pace. I saddled in here. George (of backpacking fame) who invited me, decided to hang back and run with me. Everyone takes off at the same time, but very shortly after, the different groups start taking shape. It was a great spring day, it was cold, but the birds were chirping and the flowers and trees were starting to bloom. The group was laughing and having a good time. Attitude check: good. The course meanders through old town, down Princess Anne; under the tracks back up Caroline; Past old mill park; and then onto the canal path. Beautiful! From there onto varying routes based on the distance you would like to run. We were going 4 miles and I was happy with this decision. I first hit trouble 30 minutes into the run. I was fighting it, but my resolve was weakening and my pace had slowed. We were running along one of the most beautiful spots on the river, but I wasn’t seeing it that way. No longer was it a great spring day, I was cold, and I was breathing heavily. Flowers? Hah! I couldn’t see ‘em. Attitude check: Uh oh! The canal path, which I could just make out through the haze of my negativity, is a beautiful paved trail running right down the middle of Fredericksburg. My legs felt fine, and although labored, my breathing was normal. My brain, however, not knowing where we were going and how far it really was could only focus on the negative. I began telling myself that I wasn’t going to complete the whole distance. I kept running. Attitude: B-A-D This section of the run seemed to take forevvvverrrr. More negative thoughts came as I plodded joylessly passed the dog park. There was a collie barking out obscenities. If I had more energy, I would have barked back at him. Attitude: OMG! Then, rounding the corner at William Street, I finally knew where I was. A weight lifted. I straightened up my posture, my stride increased. Then, as Hyperion came into view, I felt even better. The aches began to fade and angels sang. Attitude: Phew! In what he certainly felt was a good joke, George had led me onto the 5 mile loop (5.5 miles actually), not 4 like we had discussed. Attitude: surprisingly grateful. To his credit, I did finish further, and faster than I would have on my own… and then there was my first cup of coffee after.