Two days ago on a warm sunny morning my wife Ann and I were strolling down Canyon Road here in Santa Fe. There was a stone and concrete wall on our left and I noticed a beautiful antique hand carved door at a break in the wall. "Ann", I chirped, "did you see this beautiful old door?" As we stood there admiring the door Ann informed me that not only did it not go anywhere but that it didn't even open! Now, my friends know that I can create a metaphor at the speed of light based on damn near anything that occurs in my life. This "door thing" was an opportunity I couldn't resist. A beautiful door that didn't go anywhere and had no hinges. Over a late morning coffee I shared my door metaphor with Ann at a little French restaurant.
Beginning at the age of 23 as a student at the Abbott School of Art in Washington in June 1953 and continuing for the next fifty seven years nearly every painting I created was a "door" to some tangible reward. First there were the paintings done for a grade in order to earn first a Bachelors and then a Masters degree in Fine Art. Next were the hundreds of paintings I did for the market place. They were created to feed my family, pay the rent and put gas in the second hand cars I drove. After hearing the old bromide, "Those who can't do, teach", I began a life long task of disproving that questionable piece of wisdom in order to show my colleagues and students that one could indeed teach and create very credible art while doing so. So, I painted to make money, I painted to win awards and grades and I painted to prove to myself and the world that I had the requisite skills to call myself an artist as well as a teacher. Those were the doors. They opened and they went somewhere.
All of those doors have very nearly disappeared. If I don't sell another painting Ann and I will not go hungry. There are no grades to earn nor do my hundreds of students and colleagues doubt my abilities as an artist. The opinions of those I haven't convinced don't matter to me anymore. At the age of 79 all I have is the beautiful door that doesn't open or go anywhere. What I do with that door has little or nothing to do with past motivations or goals. Now there is just the door...the beautiful door.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Good Boy! Joe, remarkable friend and artist, this was a great metaphor story! Thanks and do you have a photo (or painting) of the antique door on Canyon Rd? I'd love to see it.
ReplyDeleteDoors!
ReplyDeleteI'm not as old as you, but I know about doors and where they lead. My doors came in all shapes and sizes and each one led to some really amazing passages. I won't talk about the dark passages, because I always managed to find my way through to another door, taking me to a better place. I was and am, a curious gal and this has made it impossible for me to walk by a door and not open it, whether there's a surprise waiting for me or not? Lately a lot of doors have been locked and boarded up but I see them creaking open ever so slowly but I'm going to charge through them as soon as there's room for me. My age hasn't helped and I'm not as strong as I use to be, but these young whipper-snappers need to see there's life in these old bones yet. They could learn a thing or two from the Silver Foxes or is it Silver Coyotes now that you live in Santa Fe?
i loved this posting, Joe. A beautiful door to nowhere. Now, there's a Zen description if I ever heard one. More, more! Give us more insights like this.
ReplyDelete