On January 10th, I went with a friend to the opening reception of “Artville” at the Stutz Art Gallery. Impressed and excited, I felt, once again, that I should sit down at my antique drawing board and draw.
I am not one who looks at another’s work and thinks, “I can do that.” I try not to be dismissive of people’s artistic expressions. My mother told me that an early teacher of mine, based on my young drawings, thought that I might grow up to be an artist. I did draw and paint a lot, and was an artist and writer on my high school’s newspaper. Upon graduation, I attended the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, where I met one of my artistic heroes. A. S. “Sam” Milai, was an editorial cartoonist for The Pittsburgh Courier. Milai’s cartooning work was influential to my own drawing style. (Side note: I knew that my first father-in-law — and his father — had been employed as pressmen at the Courier; it would be many years before I learned that they came to Pittsburgh from S. Keystone in Indianapolis.) Milai worked for the Courier for 33 years and illustrated a column called “Facts About The Negro,” which became a series of booklets. I grew up admiring his style and was awed to find him as my instructor,
My art school portfolio got me a job as a window designer at Gimbel’s Department Store but wanderlust carried me and my bride to Los Angeles, California, to seek my fortune on the streets of gold. The major artistic players — including Disney — rejected me, but a small health food manufacturer hired me to design labels. Laid off from that job, I spent the next ten years at a job that I did well, but did not like: small loan office manager. An artist I had met in LA helped me to express my creativity, though. He taught me silkscreen printing and (pre-recycling days) we would scavenge good paper from print shops and print cards that I designed.
I got back to art when I quit the lending job and enrolled at Indiana University Southeast, where I illustrated the cover of a literary mag and designed flyers for the campus activities board. I did layout and paste-up for a printer, and then began climbing away from “the board.” I was a “creative assistant” to the direct mail manager for Stewart’s Department Store when Associated Dry Goods closed the store and brought me to Indianapolis, where I directed designers and layout artists until L.S. Ayres was closed, sending me to St. Louis. I was the assistant creative director with responsibility for designers and photographers when the advertising department was moved to Arkansas and I was one of 800 people who were sent to the sidelines. I had not drawn a line for a long time, and I do not think I have drawn anything for years.
The friend who invited me to the “Artville” reception has a full and complex life, with duties that include being the creative director of this paper. She still finds time to paint posters for the Irvington Halloween Festival and draw portraits of her grandchildren for her holiday card. She shames me with her creative drive, and when Paula Nicewanger, whom I met at L.S. Ayres, takes me to art openings, it helps me to remember that I can draw.
And I will.