I didn’t want to be an artist because I didn’t want to go mad. But then Salvador Dali, who often acted mad, said, “The difference between a mad man and my self is that I am not mad.”
Of course, a mad man would say that. Poor Van Gogh was certifiable. But then I read that Rubens was quite sane. He had an art factory and hired craftsmen to do the flowers, the landscapes, the animals-whatever their specialty was. Peter Paul worked 9:00-5:00 and churned out those commissions from his art assembly line.
So I didn’t become an artist. I became a non-profit Director and an adjunct professor of horticulture. Now here I am, retired and painting again. Since I’ve been barred from roaming in the neighborhood woods to get subject matter, I’ve been painting from memory. This week I was inspired by an old burned pot.
“Potscape” either is inspired or insane; I can’t figure out which. I don’t think I’m a genius, but I may have gone mad after all.
My paintings are for sale, very reasonably HERE.