30 06, 2019

What Owns You?

2019-06-28T13:39:49-05:00

A reddish orange glow filled the sky like a Hudson River School scene — a sunrise so brilliant and so colorful, no one would believe it in a painting. The light streamed in through my window, awakening me far too early, as summer sunrises do. Covers over my head, I managed to fall back to sleep and get a couple more hours. Now, on this old porch, the sun is brilliantly reflecting off the water like a Joseph McGurl painting, shimmering into my eyes directly in front of me.

The tick of the old Sessions clock from the living room fills my ears on this otherwise quiet morning. Birds frolic through the trees and there is complete stillness on the lake, the water barely moving.

The first savory sip of my coffee is flavor-filled and glorious. If you close your eyes and take a sip, it makes a regular, mundane thing seem spectacular.

Purging Paintings

This morning my back is scolding me for abusing it yesterday as I moved stacks and stacks of old paintings out of storage in the boathouse into the old workshop, my new makeshift art studio. Since my mother’s passing and my goal to purge things I no longer need, I realize I’ve been holding on to these paintings for decades. Most I would not show anyone, embarrassed by their simplicity and lack of skill — and fearful that they could make it into the market if something should happen to me. Each proudly holds my signature because when I made them, I was proud of them. Today, as a much more accomplished painter, I see them as lessons and experiments. Yesterday I had them piled up and ready for the trash, when my sister-in-law asked to look through them before I dumped them. She grabbed a couple she liked, which made me realize that they had some value to someone. Now, I’m reconsidering my hoarding, not sure if I should keep them for sentimental reasons, or just photograph them for memory and let them go.

What You Own Owns You

At my recent painting event someone said, “What you own owns you.” My hoard of old paintings, and the boxes of stuff we recently moved, are great examples. Things that have sentimental value, along with things you hate to throw away because you might need them someday — or because you paid a lot for them, even though they’re worthless today.

I’ve not yet unpacked the clothes I moved and have done just fine with a couple of pairs of pants and a couple of shirts for the past two weeks. Why do I need more?

Handcuffs

Some of us own a lot, some own little. But we truly are owned by what we own. I think of a reader, whose name I shouldn’t mention, who a year ago told me they wanted to move but dreaded moving and going through “so much stuff.” And they were handcuffed to their state because selling would mean massive taxation that would impact their retirement. They were owned by what they owned. Months after telling me this, a fire took everything and painfully gave them the freedom they sought.

The Dream They Sell Us

Our media and success gurus talk about making boatloads of money so we can own the houses, the jets, the boats, and all the stuff, but what no one ever talks about is how those things own you. Each has to be maintained, houses have taxes and need new roofs and need to be repaired, as do cars and boats. My friend who owns a jet has millions in annual expenses. Once you get these things, you have to make more money to keep them. They become like addictions that have to be satisfied. 

The Pressure of a Business

The same is true for a business. Some of us follow the dream of building a business, but once we accomplish that dream, those businesses own us. We have the costs of employees, benefits, insurance, rent, taxes, and we have the pressure of making sure those employees can take good care of their families. Suddenly that business owns you and creates that pressure to make sure it continues. With that comes the need to continually grow (sitting still is going backwards) and continually innovate to keep up with the marketplace. And that need to keep things going means we make decisions that we might not make if we did not have that pressure. A business owns you.

We Can’t Get Enough!

The more we get, the more we want, the more we have to keep generating income, and the more we are owned. And the cycle never seems to end. For instance, that home has taxes and maintenance forever and into retirement. If you plan to stay, you have to have set aside enough, including enough for the unexpected and for increases over time. 

Obsessions That Own Us

I used to collect antique radios, and I had over 100 of them. My brother collects books and has thousands. A friend collects, and has hundreds of dolls. Lots of my friends collect paintings. At some point those things we love having around us have to find a new home, either once we’re relocating or downsizing, or once we pass on. When cleaning out my mom’s stuff, I found all kinds of “collections,” and I have no idea if they are valuable or not, but it was left to us to figure out. Now her stuff owns us until it’s resolved.

Where Does Happiness Lie?

I’ve seen surveys about the happiest people on earth, and I’ve met people who live in poverty worse than anything most of us could imagine — yet they are happy. Many of us are happy too, but many can never get enough, or are griping about the chains of ownership … the costs to keep something going.

Are Sacrifices Worth It?

Stages of life impact state of mind. The chains of ownership become heavier with age. And we ultimately have to determine what burdens we’re willing to carry for the things we own. For me, for instance, the burdens of owning a business are worth all the effort because I’m seeing lives changed.

Needing Less 

When I was a young man I wanted stuff. I wanted cool cars, I dreamed of owning big houses … I never got all the stuff I dreamed of (which in hindsight was a blessing). As I got older those things meant less to me. There was a time when I had a Porsche and a BMW and a Volvo, yet today I’m happy with my 16-year-old Honda Element, my favorite car ever. And it does not own me much, where the other cars had payments and cost $1,000 with every visit to the dealership. 

What Are the Tradeoffs?

Today I think twice about what I want to own. What am I willing to put up with? Does the reward exceed the trouble and the cost? Our little cabin on the lake draws the family together and hopefully will keep the kids and their families returning for a lifetime and possibly generations. Though it’s a lot of upkeep because of harsh winters and because it’s over 125 years old, at the moment, it’s worth being owned. If it ever becomes more than we can bear, we won’t let it own us anymore. 

Now, with every purchase, I’m asking myself, will this own me? Will it be worth it? Will it be difficult to get rid of? Do I really want and need it?

What owns you?

What is it that you own that binds you?

What do you have that has become a burden?

What are the strings, the efforts, and the costs associated with the things you think you want?

What do you own that is impacting your happiness?

My number one goal is happiness in life. Everything we do should focus on that, because without it, all the hard parts of life become only a burden.

Since Independence Day is right around the corner (it’s hard to believe tomorrow is July already), it’s time to gain independence from the chains that bind you.

Eric Rhoads

PS: Our family has a habit of thanking service members for their service. We have our independence because of them and those like them who put their lives on the line. At our Publisher’s Invitational I met Matt Borax, a former Special Forces officer who told me about his experiences in the service. He pointed out the impact of PTSD and that after years of training to be on high alert, and then seeing combat, that high alert never goes away for many once they are home. These people are always keyed up and may feel that a bomb or a sniper is right around the next corner. Painting has been the one thing that has changed his life and helped him relax and get away from this curse of PTSD. I told Matt about our PleinAir Force Veterans Squad, where we are training hundreds of former service members in how to paint, something he strongly supports. If you know someone who needs to get a mental break from PTSD or other issues, painting is an excellent outlet. Let me know and I’ll put them in touch with someone who can help in their area. Or they can start with the very basics at my free online lessons at www.paintbynote.com, which starts with the things every painter needs to know first.

PS2: I spent part of last week at the Norman Rockwell Museum on a project I’ll reveal next March. It’s an incredible museum and a must-see if you’re in the Berkshires. 

PS3: I’ve sold out my Ghost Ranch Fall Color Week this fall. I am taking a group of art lovers and collectors on a trip to Provence and the South of France this October. You can learn more about that at finearttrip.com. There are only six slots left.

What Owns You?2019-06-28T13:39:49-05:00
23 06, 2019

Is Perfect Life Balance Possible?

2019-06-21T16:35:43-05:00

Like black lace silhouetted against the bright sun, branches of delicate pine trees fill the view from the old screened-in octagon-shaped porch beside the lake. The shrieking yet soothing sound of loons crying out with melancholy melodies echoes off the faraway banks. I can faintly but clearly hear the voices of fishermen in the distance, yet I can barely make out their boat, suspended in the dense morning fog.

History Continues

Summertime has transported me to my muse … the lake in the vast Adirondack park, with its mountain views, deep forests, and a blanket of quiet. This porch was built in 1896, just 30 years after the Civil War. Over the last 123 years, this porch has shared its old, worn wicker rocking chairs with seven different families and their friends, some of whose descendants still live on this lake. Though the old wooden beadboard walls can’t talk, a treasury of old photos with notes and explanations tells the story of this camp, its owners, its old wooden boats, and buildings lost in fires, moved, reconstructed, and remodeled. The very chair I sit in, along with most of the furnishings, have passed from owner to owner, because they belong here in this boat-access-only camp for rustic summers. Our goal is to preserve this legacy, only adding our touches, which in my case will be paintings that I hope will live on in this house for generations, so my kids can tell their great-grandkids that their father painted those old paintings here on the lake.

Much-Needed Balance

Over 30 years ago, when we first landed on this lake, my father announced that this was one of the few places on earth he could truly relax, with the calm coming almost instantly. It’s been the same for me. Our busy year of kids, school, business, and life takes a long, relaxing pause here in this place. It provides much-needed balance.

A week ago, as my ninth annual Adirondack Publisher’s Invitational paint retreat ended, one of my guests said, “You seem to have achieved perfect balance in your life. Would you write about balance? We all could use a little help.”

The Value of Chaos

Though “perfect” is a goal, balance is the love child of chaos. It takes stress and a crazy life to come to the realization that balance is critical. Like all things, you don’t know what you don’t want until you have it — and don’t want it. For me, balance was nonexistent. Mimicking my workaholic father and his high work ethic, I’d work from sunrise to midnight most days, and did so for years. I’d go decades without a vacation, and I was driven to get more done. Not only was I having a ball, I was making things happen, and it was hugely rewarding. But the intensity, the stress, and the constant level of activity had its downside. I was constantly lacking sleep, resulting in chronic crankiness, and I pushed others to work just as hard, which resulted in their being cranky too. Over time I became a different person, someone I did not love. Some might say an insensitive jerk, always pushing for more.

There was no time for leisure or vacation. My wife begged me to take just three days to celebrate our 10th anniversary, which I resisted but (thankfully) gave in to. We flew on the Concorde, spent two days in England, and came back home. Then it was back to work.

Off to the Hospital I Go

One moment 25 years ago I was sitting at the long conference table in my office, in an intense meeting, and suddenly my face went numb. Then my left arm, then my left side. Not wanting to cause alarm, I excused myself, went to my top desk drawer, pulled out a baby aspirin and took it. (A week earlier my friend Wayne Cornils had told me a baby aspirin had saved his life when he had a heart attack and suggested I should keep it nearby at all times.) I returned to the meeting, finished, then drove myself to the ER. They could not do an MRI for two days, so I drove myself four hours to the Mayo Clinic. Tests were inconclusive, there was no evidence of a stroke — maybe because of the aspirin — and eventually the feeling returned.

I was lucky. I’d had a wakeup call. Balance was calling.

Balance calls when you have chaos in your life. I could have ignored the call and probably would have gone to an early grave.

Vacation Half of the Time?

One day in a meeting with one of the richest men I knew, a billionaire, he told me that he takes 26 weeks a year vacation on his yacht in the Virgin Islands. He convinced me that he was more productive and more successful after he achieved balance. His job was so stressful, he told me, that he was making reactive decisions and not using thinking time. When he started taking more time off, he started becoming more successful. That’s what I needed to hear.

Though I did not have a yacht, or a jet to get to the islands, and I didn’t feel I could take 26 weeks, I could start with two weeks a year and gradually, over time, take a little more. But I’ve since discovered that balance does not come from vacation time, it comes from a balance in your daily life.

Giving Up 18-Hour Days

I had to admit I was a workaholic, and, though I love to work, I knew I had to give myself some other joy. That’s when I took up painting. It’s also when I stopped working 18-hour days. I told myself I had to get eight hours’ sleep a night and had to give time to my family, my friends, and myself.

Once I started painting, I got balance in my life by de-stressing at night when I got home. You can’t paint and be stressed. So I’d paint nights and weekends (and still do). I started going outdoors to paint, and that made me want to travel more.

I did not want to be one of those people who waited till retirement to do all the fun things, so I started building them into my life. I made a list of what I wanted to do, which included a trip a year to Europe for a week or two of painting. But I could not afford to do that, so I created events for my business where I would take others.

Making a Balance Plan

Like all good things in life, balance has to be planned. You start by designing your ideal life because the things that bring you joy also bring you balance. Work brought me joy — but I was doing too much of it. A muscle that is always tensed eventually cramps up, which is why I think we need to use different mental muscles to create variety, to keep life interesting and allow the mental muscles to relax.

Balance is different for you than for me. I can’t sit on a beach to vegetate. I need to be doing something … reading, painting, drawing. Knowing yourself is key.

Too Much of a Good Thing

I also think too much balance can get out of balance. We’re made to work, made to be productive, made to have some stress. Vacation or doing nothing all the time probably isn’t great for balance or self-esteem. Most of my retired friends tell me that you can only play so much golf or tennis.

Are you out of balance?

Ask yourself these questions…

Do you have a smile on your face most of the time?

Are you grumpy or cranky most of the time?

Do you ever wish you were doing something else?

Are you feeling stress more often than not?

Do you wish you had a change of scenery?

As I’ve said before, we all tell ourselves stories, and the story of being out of balance includes “They need me at the office” or “They can’t do without me” or “The business will fall apart if I’m not there” or “I don’t have time or money for balance or vacation” or “Balance is for wimps and losers.”

If you take a vacation and tell yourself you’re not ready to go back to work, maybe you need to find some balance so you can look forward to going back.

I don’t have “perfect” balance. But I work hard at achieving balance, and when I get out of balance, I feel it. Like an alcoholic who easily slips back into alcohol, a workaholic easily slips into working too much. It’s a need to be needed, a feeling like they can’t do without you. But they can.

We can’t go through life like a pinball in a pinball machine, bouncing and reacting. We need a plan. Those with the best plans often live the most enriching lives.

Balance requires a plan.

Eric Rhoads

PS: At my event last week I met many people who were there because they read Sunday Coffee or they listen to my PleinAir Podcast. I’d like to thank them for showing up and trusting that they would have a good time. I think they did, because most signed up for our 10th-anniversary reunion Publisher’s Invitational next June (it’s already 60 percent sold out). Many have also signed up for my Fall Color Week invitational at Ghost Ranch, which sold out this week and now has a waiting list. Thank you.

The greatest next experience I can offer that still has a few seats left is my Fine Art Connoisseur magazine behind-the-scenes art trip. These trips are life-changing for those who love art and want to see things you cannot see as a typical tourist. This year we’re going to the South of France, Provence, Nice, and many other areas, and there is an optional post-trip to Edinburgh, Scotland. And though it’s not a painting trip but a luxury art trip, there are a few artists who squeeze in a little painting, so this year I’m offering a pre-trip for painters to Saint-Paul DeVance in the South of France, a historic place for painters. If you want a lifetime memory and want to join a family of people who love art, check it out.

PPS: Last week I had a major disappointment. I had tried to buy a business out of bankruptcy, and after weeks of planning and effort, I failed. I was seriously disappointed and sad for a couple of days, but I know that when God closes doors, there is a reason. It has not been revealed to me yet and may never be, but in my case balance comes also from prayer and trust that there is a plan and that if I let go and stop trying to control things, perfect balance will come. It was a good lesson for me and a reminder that things don’t always go the way we want them to. But I have to trust that bigger and better things are ahead.

Is Perfect Life Balance Possible?2019-06-21T16:35:43-05:00
16 06, 2019

Seeking Lifetime Moments

2019-06-14T16:13:05-05:00

The lake is still, reflecting like a giant mirror of rich blue cloud-filled morning sky. Cool air meeting the warmth of the water produces a thin layer of fog dangling over the glass, muting the colors of the dark forest greens and converting them to shades of blue gray. Ripples interrupt the stillness as the feet of a raptor swoop down to snatch up a small fish lingering right below the surface. In the distance a purple blue mountain hails from above, calling me to climb her.

View of a Candy Store

Last year, toward the end of summer, I hiked to the top of that mountain with my 50-pound backpack of paint, easel, tripod, painting panels, and an enthusiastic spirit. The view from the top, a giant panorama of lakes, mountains, and sky, give me more choices to paint than a candy store of tempting treats, knowing I could take only one … at least on this trip.

Creativity on Steroids

Here today, the promise of an unscheduled summer ahead, I tell myself I’ll climb it more often, get out and paint more often, and end the summer with a stack of painted memories of this, my favorite place. The Adirondacks captured my spirit decades ago, first as a photographer and then, knowing of its endless beauty, I converted to painting, which allows me to push the limits of my creativity in a way I never could with a camera.

Intentional Slowing

My conversion also slowed my pace. For decades I’d travel to distant lands, iconic scenes, and stunning vistas only to set up, take my shot, and move on to the next trophy. Somehow I felt guilty — why am I not packing a lunch or a backpack and staying here, in this one spot, all day? Why am I not camping here for a few days? The answer always came back that there was so much more to see, and stopping would keep me from seeing it all.

My Own Voice

Painters like me often use photos for reference, which comes in handy when snapping a rare moment you otherwise couldn’t capture even with a sketch pad in hand. And though I do that from time to time, I do so less now that I’ve discovered that time in a place impacts the feeling of my paintings. After all, for me it’s not about making a reference photo or recording the place for posterity, it’s about saying something more about what I see, the impact of my study of the scene, the memory of the place or the experience.

Finding Helpers

Rarely do I sell the small paintings I make on location, because they are my memories and very precious to me. On occasion my gallery will receive a bigger version, painted in the studio from one of the small studies. Each painting is tied to something … the reason I stopped the car in a particular spot or the reason I set up my easel in this place on a hike, and often the paintings hold reminders of children who stopped by alongside their parents, and I let them paint on my canvas to encourage them. Or the friends I was with, painting in the rain in the shelter of a minivan, or the animals that wandered into the scene.

A Big List

There is much to be done this summer. Not only paintings I want to do in the vast landscape, but my son wants to sit for a portrait, something he has denied me for the last 17 years. I also have a painting I want to do of a local Native American acquaintance, who has such an interesting face and such beautiful costumes. And the best Father’s Day gift of all would be time with my kids, as much as possible all summer, whether it’s them doing what I like to do, or me doing what they want to do. One son wants to hike all 46 peaks of the Adirondacks, though I may slow him down if invited.

Drawing in Family

I’ve often quoted RIchard Saul Wurman, who talks about how many summers we each have left, and how we want to make the most of them. This will be my last summer without triplet high school kids — next year at this time they will be in college. It’s hard to know if they’ll spend the rest of their summers with us. We can only hope, and try to provide a place to visit that is a magnet against their distractions of steel.

Ultimate Father’s Day

Narrowing this concept, I have to ask how many more summers, or how much more time, will our kids get with us? Or for those blessed to still have our parents, how many more summers will we get with them? This is more evident than ever since I recently lost my mother, and for me an ideal Father’s Day would be time with my wife, my kids, and my own father. For years I struggled to find the ultimate Father’s Day gift, only to come to the stark realization that the best gift I can give is time with them. It’s becoming more evident, with the prospect of distant colleges, future marriages and children in possibly faraway places, and the birds leaving the nest to start their own nests. I marvel at families who have managed to keep their kids close to home, yet I also want my kids to experience the world and chase the dreams that may take them as far away as Mars.

Looking Beyond Flaws

Today as we honor our fathers, we don’t have to honor their flaws, their mistakes, or our grievances over past conflicts. It’s a day to look the other way, and honor them for the gift of life. For some it may end there, while others honor the gift of sacrifice, of their fathers’ toil to keep food on the table, for the time fathers took nurturing us when they had to find a way in spite of a busy schedule or working multiple jobs. We honor their words, their stories, their wisdom, and their love.

Honor Good Memories

This day is painful for some and meaningless for others, and for you, we honor the good memories and hope that the painful memories don’t cloud the good that came from the time you had.

Here’s to You, Dad

To fathers, I salute you. I never understood what fatherhood meant until I had my own kids. I hope your day is filled with calls, or visits, or at least good memories. It’s not the day to dredge up the bad, or if it is, remember that the most powerful word in the dictionary is forgiveness.

Eric Rhoads

PS: My dad is 93, in great shape physically and mentally, socially active, working 15-hour days, and he loves life. I consider myself blessed to have a dad who has tried to be there for me and my brothers. If he could not be there in person, he was on the phone. Sometimes he would drag us to business meetings or to work conventions — we often didn’t want to go, and though we thought he was teaching us future lessons to apply to our own lives (and he was), I now know he was grabbing moments and creating memories.

One of my most powerful memories was a visit with my dad to New York when I was 14, to a convention or something. When we had a free Saturday, he asked what I wanted to do, and I wanted to visit a New York radio station. He made it happen. Throughout his life, he made sacrifices we could not understand as kids, but the fruit of those sacrifices was used to build memories in our later years. I have him to thank for introducing us to the Adirondacks, and so much more.

No, he’s not perfect. But then, there is only one perfect Father. The rest of us are flawed, sometimes make boneheaded decisions, and we go through life like pinballs, bouncing from one experience to the next, never knowing if we’ll bounce around for a while or end up in the gutter, hoping to get another shot, after a bad decision. We do what we know, we do the best we can, but we are not perfect. Rather than looking at the flaws of our fathers (which sometimes are strengths that we perceive as flaws), let’s embrace them for who they are and understand that our expectations of perfection or what we want them to be may also be flawed.

Dad, I’m grateful for the endless love, the endless sacrifices, and your endless efforts to keep making memories for the family.

Seeking Lifetime Moments2019-06-14T16:13:05-05:00
9 06, 2019

The Gift of Friendship

2019-05-29T17:55:57-05:00

Trying to stay warm, I’m in my red flannel “buffalo check” pajamas. A fire is roaring in the old stone fireplace of this 100-year-old house. Above me, an “out of service” canoe, as old as the house, hangs from the rafters, displaying the beauty of its wooden slats and craftsmanship. The windows, fogged with mist, display the deep greens of the forest and old growth trees surrounding the house. Birds tweet feverishly, and the giant 600-year-old oak in the front is swaying to the breeze, while its branches reach out to cloak the entire cabin.

 

The Giant Sucking Sound

Each year a giant magnet pulls me to a place I love passionately. Though I’ve traveled the world, and love many places, there is something about the Adirondacks that has touched my life since the time I was introduced to it, over 30 years ago. I’ve always felt like it’s where I belong. Always where I felt closest to nature.

 

A Big Day Ahead

One of my biggest goals is to return here every summer, which is why, four miles up the road, there is a group of “campers” at my 9th Annual Publisher’s Invitational event. As soon as I finish my coffee and get ready for the day, I’ll join them in the cafeteria for morning announcements about where we’re going to paint today, our first day. Everyone checked in last night and we had a lovely dinner and orientation and a chance to get to know one another better. We’ll do this every day this week, painting all day, starting and ending with meals together, sitting up at night talking, playing music, painting portraits, and looking at our “catch of the day” — the paintings we’ve all done.

 

One More Time No Matter What

I set up this annual event knowing our time at the Adirondacks may one day come to an end because of the eventual sale of the old family home on the lake. This event allows me to return at least once a year no matter what. Only time will reveal how that works out.

 

Summer Camp

Nothing like this had existed in my life since I was a kid. I remember going to summer Boy Scout camp at Camp Big Island two or three summers in a row, and also to the YMCA’s Camp Potawotami for a couple of years. It was a chance to see old friends that you saw only once a year.

For me, and others, this event fills that “summer camp” void. We start with hugs and will spend hours catching up about what’s happened in our lives during the last year. And there are new friends who join us each year, making it even more wonderful.

 

Eric’s Own Commune?

When I was a young man of about 30, I recall my big dream of buying a giant piece of property on a lake, inviting all my favorite people to build houses on that property, and having a lodge where we could all cook together and hang out all summer, every summer. I never got around to doing it, but this may have turned out to be better — I’ve made friends I would never have known otherwise, because of people who showed up or came with others.

 

Crystalized Thinking

This event has made me realize the importance of friendship and of making a point to spend time with friends every single year. Though some come and go due to family obligations, rarely does someone miss two years in a row. When someone is not there, it’s not quite the same without them. And I kinda hope this continues, in some form, for the rest of my life. It’s that precious to me.

I’ve often talked about the importance of family traditions, but I now believe that friendship traditions are also critical. Seeing those who are important to us at least once a year makes for a rich life.

Of course, local friends should be seen as frequently as possible, but even then our busy lives sometimes mean we get together only once or twice a year. I joke with a lot of my local painter friends that I have to go to the Plein Air Convention in another city to see them. That should not be.

 

Revisiting Priorities

Some recent tragedies in my life have helped me revisit my personal priorities. Though my mom’s recent funeral wasn’t fun, seeing family members and old neighbors and friends for a few hours afterward was a highlight of my life.

Finding more family time is at the top of the list … making more time for my kids, my dad, my brothers and their families, my wife’s family … and seeing the other friends has moved up to a high priority as well. All too often old friends are seen every few years, if that, and when we get together we wonder why we don’t do it more often. In reality, what can be more important? Without the rich experiences of friends and family, everything else pales.

I feel blessed that my painting events like the Publisher’s Invitational, Fall Color Week, the Plein Air Convention, and the Figurative Art Convention provide me with rich experiences with painting friends. But my focus is to find more time with everyone at these events, and outside of these events.

What about you?

Who would you miss if you got the call they had disappeared? Call those people NOW and find a way to get together with them soon.

Most good things that happen in life are not accidental — most are planned. Are you making enough of an effort to plan time with friends? If not, consider scheduling something now. Make a list and ask yourself who you most want to spend time with this year.

Also, where is healing needed?

A friend estranged from her dad for two decades recently told me that upon his death she realized her grievance was petty, and she now regrets the distance she put between the two of them.

There is no time like the present. Time is fleeting and lives are fragile.

Make time for friendships. It’s the one thing you’ll never regret.

 

Eric Rhoads

PS: If we have not met and if this painting thing seems fun, I’ll do an event much like this one at Georgia O’Keeffe’s Ghost Ranch in New Mexico this fall, and then I’m doing an art lovers’ trip to Provence and the South of France, and Scotland too. Make some time for yourself. Let’s become friends in person.

The Gift of Friendship2019-05-29T17:55:57-05:00
2 06, 2019

Making Dreams Come True

2019-05-29T16:44:57-05:00

A symphony of birdsong fills the morning air as the early-rising sun streaks through the trees, making long purple shadows and golden light as it hits the tops of the tall grass and pear-shaped cactus. A bright yellow spider makes its way across the glass door of my little brown art studio, probably frustrated after his web across the doorway was deconstructed in a split second. Cool breezes move the trees and chill the air slightly before the afternoon blast of heat melts everything in sight. It will soon be time to escape the summer heat, if just for a week or two. My painters’ event in the Adirondacks, starting this weekend, will be saturated with deep green forests, cushy reddish brown pine needle forest floors, and gushing waterfalls, all waiting to be preserved in paint.

 

Seeing Past Stress

Thoughts of my plans get me through an otherwise busy, sometimes stressful year. Though I used to be Mr. Spontaneous, something I learned from my dad, who would wake us on a summer morning and say, “Get up, we’re leaving for vacation in one hour.” I’m sure the demands of his job were such that he could not often plan. I followed suit for many years. Though I love an occasional random and spontaneous trip, I’ve found that having something to look forward to is the best possible medicine to get me through busy moments. Knowing something is coming in a month, or even a year, is soothing.

 

Gifts From Mom

Last weekend at my mom’s memorial, I was reminded of three traits she had that I think I inherited. She loved to travel (she was a travel agent), she loved to be with friends, and she loved to find ways to make people happy. My life has been designed to incorporate those things.

All of this came out of a thought process to design my life, which made me think about what would make a deeply rich life, what would make for wonderful experiences, and what would make me happy at the same time.

 

No Retirement

I also combined this with thoughts about retirement, which came down to not ever wanting to retire. I love what I do, I love the people I work with, and I love the people I get to interact with, most of whom have become my friends. If I stopped, I’d be spending my time trying to get back in.

When designing my life, I tried to determine how much traveling I would do if I were not working, and I found a way to do that now so I don’t have to retire.

 

Exact Plans for a Rich Life

Designing my travel was very deliberate. For instance, I love to visit Europe, I love to visit museums, and I love the perks of my job, which often get me invited behind the scenes at the museums, often to meet with curators or directors. But I also love being with friends and I love sharing those perks with them, because chances are they would never get to do those things on their own. So I do an annual trip where we visit different parts of Europe. The one this fall is our 10th, which will be very special. This trip scratches the art lover and Europe itch, and I don’t have to wait till retirement to get it done.

 

Planning for Painting

I was also deliberate about painting trips. Life is busy, and time to travel to beautiful places to paint has to be scheduled. Though I sneak out on a weekend here and there, having a week of painting is life-changing because it improves my work as I do two or three paintings a day. So I do this twice a year … once in the spring to get tuned up for summer, and once in the fall, to get some color and a last shot before winter. Sometimes I even do a winter trip to someplace warm and exotic. I always invite anyone who wants to come along, and I usually end up with 60 or a hundred painters for a week, which is a blast. Sometimes they are pros — for instance, someone very famous is showing up at my Adirondack event next week — and there are also people at all levels, including beginners. We all hang together because we are all equals. (I reserve my summers when the kids are off to be with them and do no business travel.)

 

There Is Always a Way

Frankly, I would not be able to do this much travel if it were not for making it part of my work, but I started by saying, “How can I accomplish these goals?” and then worked backward to find a way. And I think there always is a way.

Many artists, for instance, schedule workshops in beautiful places so they can get others to pay them to go to those places. Others teach art on cruise ships, or get free months at artist fellowships in beautiful places. Some countries will even pay for artists to come and bring other artists in order to boost tourism. The key is determining what you want to do, and working backward to find a way to accomplish it. Start with the goal, then make a step-by-step plan.

 

“Someday” Is a Copout

For several years I invited my mom to come to the Plein Air Convention with me, because she loved to paint and would have loved it. “Someday,” she would say. “This isn’t a good year, but keep asking.” Years passed, I kept asking, but it never happened.

Too often “someday” gets in the way of action. There is never a good time. Never perfect conditions. Never enough money. I could tell a dozen stories of somedays that never came, people who told me they were going on one of my trips but who have since become disabled, or worse.

 

You Are Healthy and Alive Now

The opposite also happens. I met a lovely lady at my Fall Color Week who came every year, and planned to keep coming back. Little did she know this past fall was her last. She passed away a couple of months later.

No matter what your dreams are … act now. They might be travel dreams, big goals, something you’ve always wanted to do.

What are you wanting to do that you’re not doing?

Where do you want to travel that you’ve not yet been?

My friend Richard Saul Wurman says we should think in life of “how many summers” we have left. Of course, we never know.

Whatever is getting in the way, is it worth it? Is there a way around it?

My hope is that you have the rich experiences you desire in your life. I encourage you not to play the “someday” game.

 

Eric Rhoads

 

PS: My event, starting on the 8th in the Adirondacks, can fit a few more people. I’ve already hit my goal, but I can open up a couple more rooms if necessary. (Though that’s not true at every event, I can do it this year at this one.) I have a contract this year and next year — after that, all bets are off. Hop in the car and paint with us. Even if you’re new to this painting thing. You’ll meet your new family and be instantly embraced.

Making Dreams Come True2019-05-29T16:44:57-05:00