thoughts on art/artists

This is from the Robert Genn twice-weekly newsletter. (www.painterskeys.com)


When I was a kid my folks took me on a road trip. As we approached the town of Hope, B.C., we saw, crawling up the shoulder of a steep hill, an ancient Model T Ford. A skinny, mustachioed man wearing a fedora was sitting up tall behind the wheel. Below him, a sign on the side of the old car read"Toronto or Bust." Toronto was 5500 miles away. As we flew by in our '47 Chev Fleetline I distinctly remember my dad turning to me, winking, and saying, "No hope." My mom laughed.

Dad turned out to be wrong. Two months later we read about the guy in the newspaper. He had driven from Vancouver, B.C., toToronto, Ontario in a 1914 Ford. And then--he drove back!
I've often thought about that fleeting image and the guy behind the wheel. Perhaps it was the seed that became my lifelong love of vintage cars. But it was the look of expectation that was on his face—-it was a look of hope. He was unconventional. He knew not where he would spend the night. He was traveling according to his own code. And he feared not.

We artists are like that guy. We stick our necks out with old fashioned technology and try to make a journey out of it. This journey takes us goodness knows where. But that's the point. Every day we crank up the old machine and head out once more along the shoulder of life. Many of us do not make it toToronto, New York, London, Paris or even Oz. Who is there among us who fully understands where we get our vision or to what end it goes? Who understands fully how what we do can be both agreeable and disagreeable? To folks like us, the main thing is that we are on the road. And what a road