Life’s Like That
A week doesn’t go by that my wife isn’t asked “how is Jim doing?”. She gives them the short answer, how I cope with illness and hope to be an artist, but what I would like everyone to know is all of this.
I struggled with various lung ailments my whole life: Iosynophilic pneumonia in my twenties, chronic bronchitis since my teens and lung cancer in 2010. The chemotherapy was successful. I am cured. Not surprising to anyone I now have the symptoms of Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD). My forty year career as a successful financial adviser in banking, municipal government or for individuals was shortened. Despite this I try to lead a very busy life. Notice I didn’t say normal. Prematurely, the cancer kick started my full time art career. I happily had this career planned because I followed my own advice to try and develop what you are going to do in your retirement before you retire. And so, even before I retired, I had already painted hundreds of works. The transition to artist was not difficult. The reality of chronic illness is difficult.
My love for and education in art has always been an integral part of my life. In grade eight I painted a reasonable facsimile of a Tom Thomson landscape. International travels always included visits to galleries. Art and biography books purchased in the 70’s are still on my current reading list along with current art magazines. Courses taken way back in the day at Three Schools in Toronto and in University and workshops with various accomplished artists are still significant influences. So now, when I talk to people, I talk about art. I say that I am an artist. It is a comfortable place to be and explains the chronically paint-splattered clothes.
Being a planner comes naturally for me. Thinking ahead realistically was an important part of my professional training. Plan and persevere to have a good life and retirement! Getting to that good place is another story. Many other pressing career and family responsibilities stopped my early endeavours to create art. Then there were several false starts before I was able to paint on a consistent basis. Decreasing health, something I had not planned, necessitated me to cope with this unexpected reality and yet actually accompanied increasing art creation.
I seldom procrastinate. I say “JUST DO IT” a lot to myself these days. Experimentation with abstraction is the most important part of my work. I am at an interesting point where I am trying to understand what I am doing. For instance, I have gone from the familiar to the unfamiliar, from my roots in landscape painting to the study of visual music and analysis of the human spirit. More and more I paint human experiences. I confess that I had no idea where this art making would take me (so much for planning every detail) and certainly had no idea of how I would get there, wherever “there” is. This is an advantage in my opinion as I try to paint what no one else has. When I write about myself, say for an exhibit, I sometimes liken myself to a jazz musician who improvises.
Recently, I completed a painting called Life’s Like That. It was the most satisfying painting I had done to that point. I was so excited. The painting is full of unpredictable shapes and because of this the eye travels around the painting in random patterns. There are lots of black and white dots which may cause the viewer to think of dice or a game of chance. One visitor to the open studio of a few weeks ago said the painting reminded her of the game Snakes and Ladders. Life is a bit like that game, isn’t it? I am now in a period of painting the human experience, and what life feels like to me. This requires awareness, careful observation and intentional choices of colour, lines and forms. I do hope the painting is published along with this article.
I am doing the things I wanted to do in my thirties now, in my sixties, because I can. With several solo and group shows, and a studio/gallery near downtown in a former bicycle shop I am very motivated to take my art seriously. I even have a website. Giving back to my community has become important as I donate several paintings a year to charitable causes. I’m pleased that silent auction sales raised over $40,000 in the past ten years. Who knew? My plan to be an old painter sitting at an easel in the back of a cluttered shop with a small gallery space at the front is now a reality.
I could go on and on about the freedom to create being the ultimate experience. I notice that paragraph after paragraph here has been all about “the art” and “living my dream”. Little is mentioned about ill health, restrictions, bad days or depression. These too come and go. I may not be physically able to climb stairs, but I can still lift a paint brush. My focus is directed to my passion.
Now, if my wife is asked, she can hand them a copy of this. An old sick man and a painter is not a 50 – 50 split. I am, close to 100%, an artist.