“How did you get to where you are now, and How can I get there?” I am often posed this question from young artists. Some days I do look about me and pose the same question. It seems like it was not that long ago that I was listening intently for sheep bells and nestled inside big sagebrushes with comic books. It seems only days ago I felt the hot wind on my back as I stuck my thumb out again in search of something. Yes, I need to revisit that question for myself also.
It has been a journey marked by much obstacles and opportunities. It is a journey of faith and love. Self doubt and hurried cockiness have always been obstacles to avoid. Art and the life of an artist requires an equal amount of humility and earned pride. I have always enjoyed and treasured my intense appreciation of the most profound beauty in my creations and in the lives of people I’ve encountered.
Growing up in a hogan blessed by medicine men, weavers and older siblings scribbling on the earthen floor is definitely a plus. Growing up assisting medicine people recreating healing sand paintings has helped focus my eyes on the Holy Hozho’ (beauty). Growing up walking the land alone with the goats and sheep I trained my senses and grew my own unconventional reality. A great want to reach beyond the holy gestures of the morning offerings and to touch the hand of the creator seemed possible only in an act of drawing on anything that can receive a mark. My drawing implements became a metaphor for my corn pollen.
The Government Boarding School experience gave me a need to survive away from that brutal institution, and I chose to draw myself into the margins of those constant cries of young children. I chose to imagine and compose my own paradise through the sacred act of drawing. Many with little outlets did not survive. This is why I have always known that art save lives. It saved mine.
I discovered comic books and lost myself in the illustrations of masters I still credit, Joe Kubert and Neal Adams to name just two. It was in their spare lines loaded with information that I ached for like an addict would a drug of choice.
I was very fortunate to have grown up without television and I read incessantly. That cleans the slate for something so beautiful in your visions, in your words and ultimately your life: Ho’zho go’ Bi’l, ii’na’ (within a beauty of life), is what I call it.
I find many young artists treating their gifts as a commodity first with a five-year plan, a sure set up for a major disappointment. Allow the muse to take charge and just remain true to your dreams. Setbacks are common and are a great part of our journey. Be ready and willing to embrace constructive criticisms; they are our friends and the only way for us to improve.
Develop a thick skin with soft interior of the heart. Learn to love your work beyond its ability to sell itself. Your honest approval is the only opinion that matters. Don’t allow the confusions of others and the market dictate that. Paint like you don’t need the money or fame and all the other perks will fall in place when art is done from the seat of its truth, the eyes of the heart. I have taken giant leaps of faith to develop my visions further. To find and settle into complacency in your art is an impediment on this journey. Art has a wild and edgy center not to be caged too long. Mimic others only as a learning effort. Being influenced by established artists is one thing, plagiarizing is something else false. I have the art museums on my itinerary for every place I visit, art books in my grasp, vocabulary upon my lips.
I didn’t start out wanting to be an artist. I wanted to be G.I. Joe as a young man; I tried being a cowboy and that bit the dust. I tried being a pianist. That hit a sour note. Art is where I discovered my love; the pillow of my muse. It is hard on personal relationships when you have that most wondrous a lover. I found that out time and again. I speak for myself only. Art and the life is the very spirit of the human condition. We continue to feed into that beauty and calm the raging dragons within and without.
Above all, learn to persevere for “Art in time of no money is better than money in time of no art.” Yee’go n,dad o’ ch,aa‘ (art with passion).
