My Thing With Art

Art takes forever. Unless you're Monet, who could paint 53 haystacks in an afternoon. I'm not Monet. I've never painted anything in a day. Not anything good, anyway.

I will spare you the tearful, emotional and life-changing story of how I got introduced to art. Maybe over a beer one day I'll tell you. For now, let's just say even after singing at 50 funerals per year as a kid, your first funeral of someone you know is still devastating.

My favorite thing I ever painted is 'Blue Cat in a Window' (1999). It's modeled after 'Blue Horse' by Franz Marc, and it took me about a year to complete. The excruciating issue for most painters (or artists in general) is that they are never entirely happy, and they never think their work is finished. In fact, someone else had to tell me 'Blue Cat' was finished, before I agreed to put the sealant on it - meaning the colors would no longer meld if I tried to touch it up. 'Blue Cat' was sponsored by my friend Deb (my medium of choice, oil on canvas, was not affordable for a young college student). I always missed it after I gave it to her (which was part of the bargain). To my surprise, she gave it back to me when I earned my undergraduate degrees, and it hangs in my bedroom to this day (and a copy in my office). She even had it framed, and the specks in the silver pick up some of the blue.

'Lady in a Blue Dress' (2000; yeah...I do just kinda tend to call them what they are), was a hopeful follow-up and yet halfhearted attempt at August Macke's 'Lady in a Green Jacket.' I draw my inspiration from the Blaue Reiter group, which included Marc, Macke and Wassily Kandinski. Their works (at least the earlier paintings) speak of hope, warmth and balance. To me, painting (just like singing) is about emotions. In music, it's typically beauty and joy. In painting, it's a way to express the extremes: sorrow, anger, loneliness, hope, love.

This is a painting of a shed my dad rebuilt (2007). He added the gables, Tudor-style facing and built the door. I made him open this present while we were on the phone one Christmas and he was speechless. Now this is proudly displayed in our kitchen, with a spotlight directly pointed at it. It makes me chuckle every time I see it.

In general, it's hard for me to let my creations go. I have all of them except three: the shed, a painting of Deb's old house and 'Girl with Red Hair' (2000; a gut-wrenching painting of a girl kneeling on the floor in blatant anguish). Gave it to a boy..never got it back. Tried to recreate it..never happened. In part, perhaps, because I never felt that specific emotion again.

Art comes in spurts for me. I'll go for years without a single brush-stroke, but then something will inspire me and I will be restless until I put it down on canvas. In the meantime, I am at least able to afford my own materials. For my most recent work, 'Cardinal' (2010) I even bought some really cool brushes for the detailing.

I have never sold one of my paintings and I don't plan to. I gift them or keep them - it's completely selfish. Strangely therapeutic. To be rid of an intense emotion forever. It's like making music. Priceless.