I always think
of my art as contrasts. Contrasts of colors, contrasts of visuals,
contrasts of themes. It is one of the things I like most about my
work.
However, at one point in my career, I
stopped and asked myself, "What is the consistency in my
work?" I couldn’t see any. I would paint this, then I would
paint that…whimsical cats one day, Pissaro influenced pastorals the
next then back to abstracts, oh, then on to untied tennis shoes. They
seemed to have no connection; they were just things that I wanted
to paint.
Things that were fun to paint.
In the mid 1980’s, a remarkably kind and
knowledgeable Dallas art consultant, Marie Park, once gave me the
greatest art advice I ever received. "Develop a style," she said
ever so matter-of-factly. I remember thinking, "I have a
style" and I was a little hurt that she didn’t see it.
At the time, I was painting pretty but not very memorable abstracts.
Hell, they were selling quite well, that had to account for
something.
Of course, I took her information as I
do all information and stored it for posterity. Some fifteen years
later, I now know what she meant. And really, thanks to her incredible
advice, I set a goal for which to aim. I now have at long last
developed what one reviewer called "a highly recognizable
style."
But for me, my "style" is not
just the bright colors and simple shapes in most of my works, or the
fact that the objects are heavily outlined in black. Or that my work
is all over-sized. Nor is it that my work is of everyday things.
Diversity. That is the true
representation of my style.
So, I don’t and won’t limit
myself to just "a" style. I don’t enjoy painting Japanese
Ikebana-influenced flowers all the time, so I don’t. Sometimes my
animal paintings get on my own nerves. That’s ok these days because
I can always paint something else. I just don’t take my work or
myself too seriously…and in turn it has allowed me to enjoy, even
love, my work instead of being my own worst critic. A Virgo, don’t
you know.
