Anonymity…

Tonight I had a student tell me that he wanted to be anonymous. To just paint the rest of his life and be unknown. I said that , except for a few moments in the spotlight, that’s pretty much what I’ve done. It’s hard to talk about the freedom of anonymity without having it sound like sour grapes.

We all want to be rich and famous, right? I don’t know why, but the whole idea really doesn’t appeal to me that much. Really, I don’t much care, as long as I can pay the bills, round up a show here and there once in awhile, keep painting and writing songs, I’m good with that.

For one thing, I can’t imagine coming up with something when I was 24 and keeping with it for the rest of my life. That’s just seems ridiculous and artificial to me. My life changes, and so does my art. To me, my art is a reflection of something inside that I feel and need to express at the moment. It can be just color, a sky, or any number things. I am influenced by other artists work, by art history, or by the things I see around me. It might be a process like welding, or building things with plywood, or trying out some new paint, or brushes.

Of fame and fortune, I’d choose fortune, because in this culture it might mean freedom. But, maybe not. In the end, what does it matter? By being anonymous, today, I can paint a Laguna Beach seascape, tomorrow, a minimalist work, and the next day, write music or do something else. I don’t have to maintain a public persona of fill up my calendar with things that have nothing to do with art or music.

It seems we live in a culture of winners and losers. I prefer being on the sideline going about my business, being who I am. I’m not “runnin’ down a dream…that never would come to me” I’m past the time in my life when I possibly should have, and I’m good with that.