The Adventure, Part 1, The First Long Haul

For my own reasons, I've decided to write more about my experiences.  I've been enjoying it greatly, and as a few peers have persistently told me, others might enjoy it as well.  I'll give it a shot, but don't get your hopes up.  For the first rambling, as promised, I'll focus on my westward adventure.

6/29/2016

I am home.  In the past month or so, I went on a bit of a road trip.  I had been planning the trip for a while, however, I made it a point to not make any concrete plans.  The general idea was to drive to the west coast and paint my way back home.  I’m happy to say I survived and didn’t get myself into too much trouble.  I could go on and on about the trip, or as I like to call it, my adventure…but I’ve decided to keep most of it to myself.  For those of you who are interested, I’ll give a somewhat lengthy, mildly entertaining overview. 

I drove 10,282 miles in 25 days…this means I have a raw elbow from my console, new calluses from holding the steering wheel, a sore heel, and a case of sciatica that will probably linger for several more days.  My car is worse for wear, as I had expected…many quarts of oil were added, a new battery was purchased, and several roadside stops were made to ensure I could keep driving on.  It’s safe to say that I spent more time in the driver’s seat than anywhere else.  I drove for 15+ hours on several occasions, slept in the driver’s seat at picnic areas and parking lots, and ate many meals while cruising down the highway.  Funny enough, as much as I tired of driving, I ended up finding a lot of comfort being in my car.  It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I’m pretty confident I could live in my car.  If it wasn’t for a deep connection to my community and a great love for my wife and students, I’d probably give the whole “modern nomad” thing a shot…at least for a little while. 

I ate a lot of beef jerky, trail mix, and chicken sandwiches.  I went through several cases of water, Gatorades, canned iced teas, and local brews.  And thanks to my food friend Larry, many Stroh’s…but that’s a whole different story.  I ate tacos on the beach, ice cream in the mountains, and a couple steak dinners with good friends and former students.  I was offered a free meal at Monterrey, presumably because of my rough appearance, and got caught in a “pay it forward” chain at an In-N-Out Burger.  I forgot to eat a lot while driving, but I usually compensated by having a good, sit-down meal at the most “local restaurant” establishment I could find. 

Highway 40 was a great route westward and where the adventure really started.  There was plenty of route 66 nostalgia and roadside attractions to enjoy when I needed to stretch my legs.  My first long break was in Amarillo, Texas, where I stopped for dinner at The Big Texan (no I didn’t try the 72 oz. steak challenge), watched an amazing sunset over an enormous wind farm, slept for a few hours, and then watched the sun come up over Cadillac Ranch…quintessential American road-trip stuff.  I then pushed on, stopped briefly in Santa Fe and Albuquerque, and then traveled through the desert to my first destination, The Petrified Forest.  I spent several hours wandering through the park trying to understand the “wood petrification process”, went on my first hike of the trip, and admired the Painted Desert at several dramatic vistas.  I decided to paint and set up my easel just as the wind started really picking up.  I found out really fast that painting in the desert is no small task, and ended up giving up on the painting.  Instead, I did a small oil sketch from the driver’s seat, mostly for the sake of capturing the subtle pastel colors that I’m unfamiliar with.  I found myself captivated with the desert.  I don’t know that I would like living there, but I definitely found it interesting and enjoyed passing through (my experiences in the desert later in the trip would have me feeling differently).  After leaving the park, I drove through a lot of open land, saw real cowboys herding cattle, waved to a man sitting in a lawn chair in the middle of the desert, and moved on to Arizona’s meteor crater.  I saw the crater…there’s not much more to say than that.  By nightfall, I had made it to the south rim of the Grand Canyon.  

Brittany

I'm glad I can spend so much time with my wife, Brittany.  Since returning from my "adventure", I've been somewhat unproductive.  I haven't been painting much.  I have, however, been reading a lot, working on some music projects, organizing studio stuff, and catching up on variety of activities that I hope contribute to my painting when I get back behind the easel.  But most importantly, I've been making plenty of time to relax with my wife.  We like to swim, cook, go on hikes, plan vacations, and take evening drives to any of the local ice cream establishments.  I'm a lucky guy.  I'm also a stubborn mule, which is testament to just how important she is...probably the only person strong enough to put up with me.  With all of the crazy stuff going on in the world right now, I like to think about how I love my wife, my friends, my family, and my students.  Remember how to love, forget how to hate.

"Brittany"

oil on canvas

24" x 30"

Another from IHA

Because I didn't paint or write anything of worth today, I'm posting old news.  Here's another painting from the Indiana Heritage Arts Exhibit.  You can still see this one at the Brown County Art Gallery in Nashville, Indiana.  The subject is of personal importance, as this is a part of Bloomfield that I frequented as a youngster.  South Seminary was "the other side of town" (a whopping mile and a half or so from my house), but a quick bike ride would deliver me to this little intersection of city streets and railroad.  There was a bicycle shop around the corner, where I would often stop to pick up tubes for my busted tires.  A few of my squirrely friends lived nearby and would always come out for a game of wiffle ball or "ding dong ditch".  The tracks served as a shortcut when running for the school's cross country team...not a particularly fast one, but we convinced ourselves it was worth the risk.  And that blue glow in the center...that's the soda machine in front of what used to be Joe's Pizza.  Joe's was a common meeting place after basketball games and staple of a young Bloomfieldian's diet.  And see that utility pole on the right?  I remember being stuck on this little street, waiting for a train to pass as my buddies and I were covering the town with concert fliers for our band's upcoming gig.  We played regularly at the teen center up the street.  I must've stuck ten posters on that pole before hopping back in the car and cruising on down the road.  I even remember the album that was blaring from my stereo that afternoon..."Full Circle" by Pennywise.  Good times.

"South Seminary"

oil on canvas

22" x 28" 

My return to Indiana, luck, and other things...

I have returned...

For the 3 or 4 of you out there who probably didn't notice, I've been posting even less than usual.  As promised, I'm back from my adventure.  Adventure is probably too much of a word to describe what I actually did, but I'm going to keep that ball rolling.  I basically just went on a massive road trip.  I drove 10,282 miles through Illinois, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, California, Utah, Colorado, and Kansas.  I painted quite a bit, did a lot of hiking, met up with some great friends, and saw as much of the country as I could in a month's time.  While the trip was conceived as a plein air painting tour of sorts, it quickly turned into something more sacred for me.  And if anything competes with the sensation of being all alone, days away from anything you know, searching for things you've never experienced, it's the satisfaction of reminiscing about it all from a place you can call home.  I'll post a vague synopsis of the trip in over the next week or so, but let me tell you, I'm glad to be back in Indiana.

Speaking of Indiana...while I was gone, I missed the 92nd Annual Indiana Heritage Exhibition.  It's always a great display of Indiana talent and I hated to miss the opening.  The good news...three of my paintings were accepted and one received the "Silver Award".  Unfortunately, a big part of "being an artist" today seems to be tooting your own horn when appropriate.  As much as I may toot, I really hate it.  But...it helps knowing that it's all just a matter of luck anyway.  Here's"to gambling...and adventure.

"Sheep"

oil on canvas

30" x 30"

brb

I'm off to find adventure.  I'll return with a lot to share with you...hopefully.  brb

A good sandwich

I'll  keep this short.  Today, I spent a solid 10 minutes composing a playlist of my favorite albums (a small selection, that is).  Totally worth it...made my day 10x more enjoyable.  Zuma, Harvest, Basement Tapes, Highway 61 Revisited, Bringing It All Back Home, All Things Must Pass, Dock of the Bay, Pink Moon, The Band, For Everyman, Exile on Main St.,Sticky Fingers, Ain't That Good News, Loaded, and Mind Games...it was a late 60's, early 70's type of day.  Also, I made a good painting.  And then...I made a really bad painting.  I had a good sandwich and then decided I like the bad painting more than the good painting.  Tomorrow, I will deliver a lot of good and bad paintings to a lot of different places in hopes that a few people will like both the good and the bad.  I'm looking forward to stopping at Chick-fil-A above all else.  Oh, and I got a new backpack...it was a good day.

Changing Gears

So, tomorrow is the last day of school.  Typically, I'd be ecstatic.  Typically, I'd make sure I had a solid weak of "downtime" before jumping into the summer swing of things.  But atypically, this year, I've got some big travel plans that will make my first days of summer anything but lazy.  I'm excited to get busy painting new landscapes.  No plein air events, no juried shows, no obligations of any kind...just painting my way across the country because I can.  I'll probably post more about this before the car is loaded.  Or maybe I won't.  Either way, I've got to get myself back into a furious painting mode.  Where's my big hat? 

Yeah, I'm a high school art teacher.  No, I don't teach in order to support my "painting hobby".  Yeah, it's a lot of work.  No, I'm not too happy about a lot of things in our state's public school system.  Yeah, it's a rewarding profession.  No, I'm not going to teach forever.  Yeah, I love my students.  No, I won't make you a poster for your fundraiser because you "can't even draw a straight line" and it's "no big deal for the art teacher".  Yeah, I teach a discipline-based curriculum that focuses on art production, art history, aesthetics, and art criticism.  No, my students don't get an A for effort.  Yeah, many of my students are better artists than I was at that age.  No, most students won't pursue an arts-related career.  Yeah, I still think art is important.  No, I'm not entirely sure that I'm teaching for my students as much as I'm teaching for myself.  Yeah, I love my students.

I don't really know how to express all of my feelings about teaching.  While I assumed that I'd be stepping away from the profession around this point in my life to pursue my "art" "full-time", I also never figured I'd be considered a "professional artist" at this point in my life.  Six years ago, I had given up on finding a teaching position and started pursuing a career painting pictures...so go figure.  Right now, it works...so I'm going to keep the ball rolling.  I truly believe that teaching art makes me a better artist in some shape (2D) or form (3D).  I also believe that I'm in a unique position to share my knowledge of art to young people in my hometown, in the same classroom I studied art as a young person, as a practicing artist and lifelong member of this community.  It's a good gig.

You know, when I first started teaching, I had convinced myself that my sole job was to pass on my knowledge of art and ensure that my students left my classroom with a better understanding of art as culture, communication, expression, and knowledge.  I still feel a massive obligation to give my students something they can't get anywhere else.  But now, with 5 years of teaching under my belt, I understand that my obligations are beyond transferring art knowledge.  I'm "the art teacher"...and as some of you may know, being the art teacher means more than just teaching art. 

I've developed some great relationships with my students.  In fact, more often than not, I feel that I'm interacting with my peers, not "just my students".  And while I could attribute some of that to an inadvertent "cool factor" due to age proximity and my slightly wacky personality, I like to hope that it's because my students trust me....not just as a teacher, but as a friend.  Don't get me wrong, I can be an absolute pain in the neck if sketchbook assignments aren't turned in on time.  But, I think most of my students understand that I'm dedicated to their education because I'm passionate about art and I'm invested in their growth as well-rounded and educated artists in this wild world we live in.  Teaching art is not solely "my job". 

I'm going to miss some of my seniors and will, no doubt, have a hard time telling them to "keep in touch" at Saturday's graduation ceremony.  In fact, I'm going to miss the rest of my students over the summer break, too.  Inevitably, I'll lose touch with many of them.  But, for what it's worth to any of you reading this, I'm so glad I can call my students my friends.  And while I can find too many ways of verbalizing how teaching is so important to me, I'm certain that these cherished friendships are at the root of every explanation.  I love my students. 

Here's to the Class of  2016 and all of my great friends that I have had the pleasure of teaching.  Way to go folks!  Art or die!