The screen door makes a creaking sound as the spring pulls. Suddenly it slams behind me, making that familiar and somehow comforting sound I remember from my grandparents’ farmhouse when I was 3. 

Coffee in hand, I make my way to the dock, carefully plop down in my original 1901 Westport Adirondack chair, left over from the original owners. I’m reminded that it’s in need of some loving care in a couple of spots where the wood is starting to rot after 123 years of spending summers on the dock. If it could talk, the stories of lake life, old wooden boats, and long, non-revealing bathing suits would be wonderful. One such story is of a woman whose giant diamond slipped off into the muck of the lake a hundred years back. The tale has attracted divers for a century, but the diamond is not to be found. Or when the house by the dock caught fire and burned to the ground, leaving only the giant fireplace, which is still there, warming the patio where the house used to be as we make s’mores. 

Signaling Fall

Suddenly the tone of everything around me is warm orange and yellow. The weeds have gone orange, the once-vibrant greens across the lake have a warmer cast, and brilliant color is making its way in certain spots. Spots of red and yellow ochre are dotting the landscape against the purple mountains and the silhouettes of hemlocks. These are signals that it will soon be time to leave in this, my final lake week.

Don’t Forget

This past week, we were all reminded of the World Trade Center tragedy 23 years ago. It’s been long enough that a whole generation only knows about it from the history books, much like I grew up hearing about World War II and the attack on Pearl Harbor. September 11 has more meaning to me, having experienced it on a live TV screen. And I almost experienced it in person, and would have, had it not been for a canceled meeting.

She Saved My Life

A woman named Ginny Morris unknowingly saved my life and the lives of my team at my company RadioCentral. 

Before Napster, Apple Music, Spotify, Pandora, or IHeart, I had this vision that radio and music could be online, but it wasn’t being done. My friend Mark Cuban had been broadcasting sports online, and I envisioned a world where radio would be there too. At lunch one day at the Hard Rock Cafe in Las Vegas during a broadcast convention, he encouraged me to take my idea to Silicon Valley and get it funded. (Mark wasn’t a billionaire yet, or I probably would have invited him to participate.) Soon after, I had raised millions to fund my idea, and in 1999 we moved to San Francisco (investors had said, “Our money, our town”). 

Proof of Concept

We were making huge progress, had proven the concept, had invented new technology like clickable audio (“Click the banner to learn more”), and had come up with a unique solution to make the audio much better than it was at the time. We were in a mad rush to go public, and to do so, we needed to raise millions more. So I spent most of my days meeting with companies, private equity and venture firms, selling my dream. 

Ready to Invest?

We had some good prospects, including Hubbard Broadcasting and Dow Jones, but they needed to meet in person, so a trip was scheduled to stop in New York, see Dow and some others, and then fly to Minneapolis to see Hubbard. This would be our second trip to New York, and we always stayed at the Marriott in the World Trade Center because many of our prospects were in those buildings. 

Being Frugal

My entire executive team was scheduled to be on the trip, including Steve Rivers, Ray Barahami, John Platz, Rich Sadowsky, and Mark Dirsa. We planned to meet for breakfast in the cafe in World Trade Center Tower Two on Tuesday, before a 9 a.m. meeting Mark had with the Securities and Exchange Commission. Then we would go across the street to Dow Jones.

Meeting Postponed

We were due to fly in on Monday and have our meetings on Tuesday, September 11, but on Friday afternoon, Ginny Morris called and gracefully asked to postpone our meeting to the following week. I agreed, though I was frustrated and perturbed because I wanted to get that next round of money raised soon. So I called my team together in the conference room and said, “OK, our meeting in Minneapolis was moved to the following week. So we need to decide, do we still fly to New York this Monday? Or do we try to combine it with the Minneapolis trip the following week?” Pretty much everyone thought we should go ahead to NYC and do a second trip, but I wanted to save money, so we decided to move everything if the New York meetings could be rescheduled.

Of course, the rest is history. We were not in the buildings when the towers went down, though we would have been there at that exact time. I credit Ginny with saving our lives. 

A Sad Package

On Monday, one of the people we were meeting with sent some documents to Mark via FedEx. We opened the delivery in the office on Tuesday, after the towers went down, as we were watching from work. It was from the man Mark was meeting with at the SEC. His package arrived after his death. It was a stark reminder that we would have been there.

Too Close

I think we were all in a daze, in shock, at how close we came to the end of our lives at that time. I felt like there was a new purpose, that God had spared me for a reason. My wife was pregnant with our triplets, whom I never would have known. I’ve had the gift of raising them, for the most joy I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve had a couple more decades with my wife, and I made a giant career change soon after. 

It Was Over

After 9/11 the economy crashed, and getting new money was almost impossible. Our company ran out of fuel and was closed. Thankfully, I had maintained my publishing company simultaneously (I resisted the investors’ insistence that I sell it, and I had Tom Elmo in my office run it since I couldn’t do much while running another company).

What Almost Didn’t Happen

Before coming to San Francisco, I had started painting on nights and weekends, and soon had discovered plein air painting, which led me to create PleinAir® Magazine, and later Fine Art Connoisseur. PleinAir had a huge impact on today’s modern plein air movement, which may never have happened if I had gone down with the towers. In fact, we would not have all of the things we’ve created since then, like conventions, retreats, online events, competitions, and other publications. Millions of lives that have been touched would never have been reached had I been in the building that day.

A New Life

Not only did that moment extend my life, it forced me to rethink my priorities and what I was doing. As a result, I built a new career — not abandoning my past career, but adding to it. At the exact moment my RadioCentral company ended, my children were born. My last day of work was the day our triplets came home from the hospital. Family became my highest priority, and at that moment I made a commitment to work from home so I could be with them every day. I reduced my hectic travel schedule, and I discovered that though I had loved what I was doing, the world had opened up new possibilities for me. By entering the art world, dealing with artists all day every day, I discovered I was happier and more fulfilled, knowing my work was helping them. 

Your Terms

You may or may not have had a key moment that made you reconsider your options, but you still can change them at any time. It’s never too late. Things I never had considered suddenly fell in my lap, some by my efforts, but most because I feel as though God had a plan for my life that was not my plan. Honestly, I never could have imagined, considered, or dreamed up the life I’m living now, and if someone had told me, I would not have believed it to be possible. Each night of my life my prayers included (and still include) a prayer for me to listen and follow God’s plan and not my own, and for Him to guide me. There is no way I could have come up with this life and its impact on my own.

Perhaps you’ve never pursued your dreams, and you’re thinking it’s no longer possible. Why not? What’s stopping you? 

Perhaps you’ve not yet discovered who you are or what the plan is for your life. It’s important to listen for instructions and follow what you hear.    

You’re never too young or too old. As long as your mind is working, in spite of a frail or broken body or lack of energy, when you focus on a goal, a purpose that’s bigger than you, you still can change the world. 

I’m not one to believe that once we live a full life of work, it’s time to retire. Sitting still and doing nothing may be fun for a while, but your breath lives within you so that you can serve your God-given purpose. Maybe you already did that. But what’s next? 

Think deeply. Pray about it. And listen. 

I’ve been blessed with several careers, and I’m looking forward to what I’m to do next. What about you?

Eric Rhoads

PS: This morning when I awoke, it was chilly, not cold. But I built a fire in the kitchen wood stove while feeding the dogs. The crackling of wood, the smell of it burning, and the warmth were good for my soul. Images of my time here in the Adirondacks are cemented at moments like this.

Next week about this time, following this week’s Pastel Live online event (still giant, with people attending from all over the world), we’ll pack up our stuff and the dogs and make our way to the backroads and highways, making a couple of business-related stops along the way, heading back to the heat of Texas. 

As soon as I return, my peaceful travel-free summer will end abruptly with a trip to Monterey for my Fall Color Week retreat in Monterey and Carmel, CA. I’m eager to fly into my old San Francisco home to stop and reconnect with some friends along the way. Then it’s a week of hosting some of my favorite people in the world, painting several times daily. (I’d love to invite you, but it’s sold out. My spring retreat in the Adirondacks still has a few seats left.)

Following Fall Color Week, I drive to Lake Tahoe, where my advance team and I will meet with the hotel for planning, including our painting locations, for what will be the biggest Plein Air Convention in history. Then I fly to Los Angeles for a couple of meetings, then drive to Laguna to judge the LPAPA event, and I’ll also squeeze in a couple of video shoots and artist interviews. 

After LPAPA, I fly to Dallas to speak at the Fabriano Watercolor event, which I’m excited about. Then back home, after a few weeks away. While I’m traveling, I’ve asked some guest hosts to step in for my daily Art School Live program. 

My next event, Realism Live, will be online in November, with some of the top realists in the world teaching. Then it’s time for the holidays, and then Watercolor Live in January and our newest online event, Acrylic Live, in March.

Oh, and something new will be announced next week that will take place in February. And in early 2025 we will be announcing at least two new major initiatives to help artists. Something completely new and different.

That, my friend, is why I’m so excited. 

Stay well, stay active, and step out of your comfort zone to try something new and fresh.

The glitter of the strong morning sun is blinding as it reflects in tiny bright ripples off the lake here at the dock. Its warmth is comforting, and though this feels like a summer day, hints of color are starting to show on the brilliant yet dying leaves as temperatures drop each night. Someone once said if you think fall leaves are dead, watch them dance when they twirl in a brisk wind.

It may still feel like summer, but the lake has changed. The old wooden Chris-Crafts rarely rumble by, and there are fewer and fewer kayak and canoe sightings. Only occasionally do old metal outboard fishing boats cast their lines in the water. 

The lake is quiet and calm, and most of our summer neighbors have returned to their busy lives. Last night I noticed that most of the dock lights across the lake have been switched off, and the lake is feeling lonely, especially with the melancholy sound of loon calls that echo across the empty water. 

“All at once, summer collapsed into fall.” — Oscar Wilde

But with the new season come new opportunities, and our rapid slide down the hill to Thanksgiving and Christmas. Is it my imagination, or is time speeding by? It was the race car driver Parnelli Jones who said, “If you’re in control, you’re not going fast enough.” 

Slow Joe

One of my relatives once said, “We’re starting to slow down, to wind down,” which is something I hear from a lot of people as their hair turns white. Yet I just had a conversation with the “kid” who runs my company: “We’re not going fast enough. Speed up, there is much to do and not enough time.”

Hunter S. Thompson said, “Faster faster, until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death.” And according to British TV star Jeremy Clarkson, “Speed never kills anyone. Suddenly becoming stationary, that’s what kills you.” I like his style.

Slow Feeds Your Soul?

I’m not sure who ever came up with this idea that one should slow down once one hits a certain age, or that one should never go too fast because there is plenty of time. What is the purpose of slowing down? Speeding up will extend your life, your health, your physical fitness, and you’ll be more satisfied because you’re getting done what is important to you. Yes, of course you need to absorb and enjoy life, and there are times when slow feeds your soul.

Early Retirement. Not.

Decades ago I cherished the idea of retiring at 50. Yet over the years I’ve watched too many friends deteriorate from sheer boredom. “I thought I’d love tennis and golf every day, but now that’s all I’ve got, and I’m sick of it,” said one severely depressed buddy. When I suggested he go back to work, he said, “I spent my whole life looking forward to retirement, why would I want to do that?” I found it contradictory and comical. 

Milestones and Birthdays

Milestones have a way of kicking us in the butt. When a company I founded as a young man turned 30, it was a wakeup call. How could so much time pass? Wait, I’ve not accomplished what I wanted to accomplish! I need to pedal faster!

Big birthdays have always done that for me. The thought of turning 30 was frightening, but then 40 was even more frightening, as were the big ones to follow. Each stimulated me to get busy and not waste time, yet as I look back, I never got as busy, as aggressive, and as productive as I wanted to be. Once the milestone urgency passed, I fell back into my old habits and never pushed as hard as I felt I should. Yet the further down the road with big milestones you get, you realize that the last 20 years went by in a flash, and the next 20 or sooner could be the end of the line. 

The Grim Reaper

Last week my wife was urging me to do some planning for the inevitable, to which I responded that I intended to be the first to live forever. And though my genetic history dictates decades more, one always has to be ready for the inevitable. That’s why I’m driven to speed up.

Places to Go

Though I’ve seen a lot of the world, I’ve not seen most of it. There are countries and cities to visit and paint, new friends to make, and new adventures to experience. I love that most millennials are more interested in experiences than in accumulating stuff. I say go for it. 

Though speed is important in your attitude, your movement, your pursuits, speed without a finish line is mere folly. Gandhi said, “Speed is irrelevant if you’re going in the wrong direction.”

What needs to get done, assuming your time is limited?

My list is long. There are new ideas to pursue, new events to create, books to write, videos and courses to create, goals to accomplish, and people to spend time with. 

Traveling in an RV

An old friend of mine lost his job near retirement age, so he bought an RV and spent the next year traveling to see all of his old friends. That was his highest priority. What’s yours?

“Speed, agility, and responsiveness are the keys to future success.” — Anita Roddick

Now that fall has begun, and because the ball will drop on a new year in less than four months, my mantra is speed. Faster faster. This is the time to plan for next year and the time to solve what’s not working and double down on what is working. And the speed of the leader is the speed of the team.

A Sign of the Times

A little sign over my computer monitor says, “Speed Faster, Faster. Walk faster. Do meetings faster. Waste less time. Work faster.”

What about you?

“Remember, once you’re over the hill, you tend to pick up speed.” — Arthur Schopenhauer 

Eric Rhoads

PS: A couple more weeks here, then we’ll return to Texas briefly. My goal is to see the spectacular Scott Christensen/Quang Ho show before it ends, and then I fly to California for my Fall Color Week artists’ retreat (though sold out, we were able to get two more rooms). Then I fly to Tahoe for Plein Air Convention planning, then to Laguna to judge LPAPA (Laguna Plein Air Painters Association) and see some friends along the way. I hope to run into you somewhere.

Before I go I’ll be hosting Pastel Live from my Adirondack studio for the first time, and I have Kari Stober joining me as co-host from our Austin studios. We can probably squeeze in a couple more attendees. It’s the world’s largest online pastel event.

Realism Live, the online event about painting realism, is coming in November, Watercolor Live in January, and an event to be announced in February, Acrylic Live (all new) in March. And before long, May and the Plein Air Convention will be here. Maybe this is why the year seems to pass so quickly.

This year I’ve encountered dozens of people who want to learn to paint. These events and retreats are great opportunities, but you can also try my free online course at www.paintbynote.com