I’ve been drawing from about age 3, I believe. Compared with “true” artists, I don’t think I draw as much as I should. In fact, I know I don’t. Part of it is because I have to blow a lot of precious time working. Another part is I have a few interests. I like building things, mountain bike riding, and exercising in our home gym.
Anyway, my main thing is drawing. Building/making things is usually an ongoing activity.
Our (Kurt and Kris, of course ) Dad was very artistic and creative. He, too, was usually building or making something. He was legendary at changing things around in our house — knocking out walls, building different things, etc. My most vivid memories of my childhood are my parents building our cottage during the summer months and dad oil painting on weekends in the winter.
Observing these activities is likely where my creative interest comes from. I have to be creating or building something. If I’m not being creative in some way, I’m out of sorts. Even sketching a simple shape with a bit of shading can scratch my itch. In fact, I found myself just a couple weeks ago sketching some shapes on a stud wall at the construction site I was working at. Had to be done.
As I think about Dad working on his drawings or oil paintings, I wonder if it was like an escape for him. Or a challenge. I never got the chance to ask, as cancer killed him in 1998 at the age of 53. For myself, drawing/illustrating is a challenge and an escape. I suppose it’s also freedom. I can create what I want and escape reality for awhile. I’ve found that putting my artwork on shirts to share with others is a feeling of accomplishment. Creating that artwork is the ultimate escape for me. It’s an adventure that I create!
This paragraph wasn’t going to be part of this post, but I’m going to add it, as something has come up. What has come up is I’m suddenly shedding tears as I write this post about Dad. Be true to yourselves, friends. If you like to dance, do it. If you like to paint, do it. If you like to play hockey, do it. Our Dad was always an artist at heart and he stayed true to that and dedicated to his family to the end. This picture is of him painting a mural on the wall in our kitchen. I believe this picture was taken eight months before he died. In fact, he wasn’t yet diagnosed with cancer at this point, but was unknowingly sick.