I always thought I was different. As a child I never ran around and acted “stupid” or ate bugs or climbed trees or what most people call being a kid. I was quiet, sensitive and I drew pictures. There was no better way to spend the day then to sit at the big kitchen table and let my creativity take over and just draw. Don’t get the wrong idea, I was basically a good kid, but a very shy child. I never had any really good friends and when one would come over to the house to play, I thought the most fun we could have was make a tent in the backyard and read books from the library! Not a great way to host a guest, but I was 8-10 years old.

Now as I get older, I am starting to learn a few things from my youth. All those days drawing and creating were good, but now as I continue to draw and create things I start to contemplate and think what have I done with my life so far? The funny thing about drawing and painting artwork, your mind kind of goes on autopilot and thoughts get stuck in your head and you sometimes cannot shake them. Hopefully by writing this blog, I can shake some of those ideas out of my head.

I know I have tried to combat this with more strenuous physical activity, but it is the wintertime and there are very few choices to do. I could go out in the below degree weather and start up my car to go 4 miles away for a Jazzercise class, where I am the only male in attendance. I have no problem with that most of the time, but side-stepping from the initial concept of this blog, artists have always had times in their lives on how the public will perceive that same artist. Make no mistake I am 100%, full blooded, able-bodied American male who likes and loves women. But if you had no idea who writes this blog, except for the fact that it is written by a single male artist who had cancer and still lives at home because of financial problems and situations and goes to Jazzercise classes and works at the library part-time, what would you think?

My point is that artists are known to suffer from depression. Unlike other professions, an artist is only good if the work he or she produces is accepted by the public. I can paint or draw 10 caricatures an hour, and if one person says, “That does not look like me!”, my whole day was shot. I probably draw at a festival close to 80 drawings in 7 hours and if I get that one comment, I have failed. The other 79 people could love and be infatuated with the caricature I drew, but it is that one that will stick with me. Many artists have had these same situations.

The actual posterboy for artistic depression would be Vincent Van Gogh. He was a typical Dutchman in the 1800’s. He would be similar to my own forefathers that came to this country. But late in life in finally found a purpose. Oh he tried to be a teacher, a banker, a minister, a salesman, a farmer, but nothing seemed to stick. He decided that being an artist actually made him happy, so he painted. He painted what he saw and tried selling the works of art to people, the very same people who would be his models and lift himself out of depression. But his fault was that he painted poor people and sunflowers and scenes of farm fields. Not too many sunflowers are going to bankroll an artist’s work. These people were poor and could not afford these paintings. He continued painting and getting supplies and money from his brother Theo and painted and painted and then he went nuts and killed himself. All because of rejection. Then after he died, his paintings were selling hotter then the horse and buggy!

No one wants to be rejected, either professionally or personally. I think artists are more susceptible to this because we are the harshest of critics. Many times I have to start a painting over to get the “right” way for my thoughts and my vision. I am so afraid of what people may think of me as an artist and as a person that if I goof up or miss a major detail I must be an idiot, a deviant or both. I am neither, just a guy trying to make a living that goofed up.

I guess there is no way around it. I have to deal with these problems myself. I won’t go to the extreme like Van Gogh, and I will just have to accept my own faults as my own. The funny thing about being an artist is that you can be depressed for rejection and the next minute higher then a kite with one compliment of acceptance. Can you handle the roller coaster of falls and rises and feelings of inadequacy? Most people cannot accept those feelings. You can overcome depression with medicine but I do not even want to try that. I get sick from drinking alcohol. No I will do this on my own and I will do my best at trying.

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People ask me all the time. The 20,000 time I answered this question, give or take a few thousand can make a person goofy, gruff or downright uneasy. The question people, who know I am an artist, always ask me is….WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE ARTIST? Huh…That is tough.

I know what you are thinking. Now that is a good question. On certain days everyone feels that they are associated with certain artists and usually his or her nature plays a role in that. To me I have usually only picked two artists that I tend to emulate or try to have a bit of their talent in the work I do. Not to say that I only admire these two artists. Oh No! That is not what I am trying to say. In many ways I would like to try to be one tenth the artist like Gauguin or Van Gogh without the schizophrenia and depression. Hokusai’s talents amaze me yet, although he died almost 500 years ago and he had never made one dime on his “Great Wave” painting although everyone copies it in some form or another. I know of one artist who copies great works of others and he tries not to be a stealing bozo.

Can I limit the whole history of art and artists to just two artists? Probably not.They are both male artists. That is good because I am one too. Nothing against Georgia or Mary or Frida but I guess my work is molded after these male artists. Just for fun, I am not going to give the names out right away, but I will give clues of who they are and why. See if you can guess who they are. Watch carefully and don’t take a nap.

And now some clues, no cheating otherwise I will have to call a cop:

Similarly, both were famous in the 20th century. Both were raised in small towns. Kind of like me. They died of course in the 20th century and I did not so that is a bonus. I am hoping that in the 21st century my art will make a bit of publicity and noise.

Still one was an American, the other was a European. Now we are are getting into the nitty-gritty part. I’ll continue being the quiz master.

One more similarity, both were the only sons in their respective family. Both were married to artistic women.

Their tempers were extreme opposites. One was fiery and boastful and ready for a fight. The other was calm and peaceful and some say even shy. That kind of describes me, the extremes at least. I have been known to let stuff go and to hold a grudge. I guess I should work on that.

Anyway…. Both went to art school, both ticked off their teachers and bosses. I never had that happen to me.

One died at a young age and the other a grand old age. I hope I am leaning toward the later.

One created a style of art that was new and unique and had people scoffing. The other painted images that were “too normal”.

Both artists have works in the Chicago Art Institute. I have seen their works and both artists’ works are amazing. If I ever make a suggestion that should be listened to, here it is: Go to your local library and look at a book of paintings, then go to a museum and see the real thing. You will be awestruck!

Did you give up? The two answers are in this entire article. Just use the first letter of the first word and the last letter of the last word in each paragraph. Start in the beginning. I only used their last names too. This is one way to make you read this blog one more time.

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