Creativity

 

I have decided to simplify this quilt into just the photo of my dad with his army truck. My dad was a complex man. He had a difficult up bringing, his parents divorced when he was 7. He never saw his father again. He had a step dad but it was not a close family and he moved out his senior year in  high school. He never wanted to talk about his youth, he regretted not being able to go to college but he made a good career working in business. His specialty was taking run down factories and making them profitable for the owners. He had high principles and I think they were instilled in me. My dad could look at a problem and come up with a solution, that's the part of art making I like best. Getting a solution to the problem you presented to yourself. The thrill of the hunt.

That being said, he did not want me to be an artist. No art school but college was ok. I went to college as a liberal art major and took all the art classes I could sneak in. Hated taking math and science. I finally dropped out after 2 years, got a job and put myself through art school. My dad said no one would hire me (I was too fat!) Uh, yeah, I did get hired and worked in graphic design doing key lining for many years, this was before the computer age. Ancient I am. When computers came in I was all for it. It gave graphic designers complete control of the process.

I worked for a man with an associate degree in accounting who ended up owning an art production company tied in with his father's typesetting company. He evolved it into an ad agency or what he thought was an ad agency. He was an all knowing type. Told us to never tell him he was wrong. (Ok, if you want to be stupid, it's your choice, smart ass.) He also gave us performance reviews and told every single one of us that we were not creative!!!! Yeah, he did, even the stat camera operator was not creative. Not that he knew what creativity was or rewarded it.

Every time I get in a show, win an award or sell a piece I think of him and say to myself. Yeah, not creative.