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27 10, 2024

My Happy-O-Meter

2024-10-27T09:19:43-04:00

Twisted, gnarly oak trees are projecting interesting-shaped shadows onto the dry fall grass below. Pink and purple clouds are glowing from the morning light, blending into the distant purple hills. The hot Texas sun is taking a fall break and we’re experiencing what we call “California Weather,” which is about as perfect as it gets here and one of the few signs of fall we experience. 

Like being wrapped in a warm blanket, it’s good to be home after weeks of travel. There really is no place like home. Or is there?

A Formerly Crazy Life

I have to admit that as much as I’ve jumped back into life post-Covid, I’ve resisted my former travel habits of being almost continuously a road warrior. After slowing down, the thought of waking up in hotel rooms for 120 nights a year wasn’t very appealing. And though I’ve traveled to my convention, retreats, and art & painting tours, which is part of doing business for me and more fun than most things I do, I’ve avoided all the extra travel I used to do that wasn’t mandatory.

After summer in the Adirondacks, I was home in Austin for exactly 48 hours before catching a flight to California, where I spent the better part of three weeks at my retreat, judging an art show, and speaking at a few events. 

Instead of being exhausted, I was invigorated because I encountered people I’d not seen in years. 

Missing You

Especially eye-opening to me were the friendships I’ve missed. For instance, before my Fall Color Week retreat, I visited with my great friends Mitch and Shelly to stay in their oceanfront estate. We spent lots of time catching up, but best of all, Mitch had arranged a surprise for me by inviting our old weekly painting group to go painting together again after at least a decade. Our time together was as if we hadn’t missed a beat. Including the bad jokes. We picked up where we left off. The only difference — absence makes the heart grow fonder.  I appreciated them more and was sad when it ended.

This of course was just one of many special moments reconnecting with friends I’ve missed seeing. 

As I was packing up to head back to Texas, I had a spring in my step and a big smile on my face. It was apparent to me how much I love being around friends, making new friends, and being around the art world, speaking at and judging events … in person. 

My conclusion: It was such a joy, I need to be “out there more.”

So, after years of declining speaking gigs and requests to judge major art shows, I’ve decided to make myself available to travel more. But never at the pace of travel before Covid. Of course, there is a problem … I’ve got a company to run and a few dozen employees to feed. So when I’m traveling and not at my desk, I tend to fall into a black hole. I’ll have to figure out a solution to that problem.

Don’t Let the Gremlins In

When we get set in our ways, gremlins somehow creep into our psyche. Before a trip I would find myself saying things like, “I’ve traveled for 40 years on business trips. I’m done,” or, “I can’t spend one more night away from home in a hotel room.” Or, “I wonder if I could wait a couple more days.”

Pretty grumpy, huh?

In what ways have the gremlins entered into your head?

What stories are you telling yourself about the things you don’t want to do?

I have to admit, before some trips I tell myself, “I don’t want to get on an airplane tomorrow.” Yet once I get there, and get engaged, I’m at my happiest.

Where are you your happiest?

I’m pretty happy wherever I am. It’s people that fuel my happy-o-meter, and I’ve decided to keep the meter pegged at 100% for the foreseeable future. I’m thinking I need to go on a world tour 🙂

Of course, once I’m home and I fall back into my routine of great meals and healthy eating, working out daily, and good-quality desk time, I’ll probably change my thinking.

What pegs your happy-o-meter?

What causes you to wake up with a giant smile on your face?

What causes you to be grumpy?
What can you do to avoid the things that don’t make you happy?

There is no rulebook.

There is no manual on how to live your life.Just because we grew up with a certain mindset does not mean we have to keep it.

Why not change it?

Why not get radical and chase what you love, and stop wasting time with gremlins?

Eric Rhoads

PS: Responsibility is a part of my DNA. I’m loyal to my family and their needs; that always comes before my rogue ideas. But sometimes you gotta shake things up a little.

Everyone remember to vote. Vote your heart. Don’t vote the way you think you’re supposed to. But vote.

What I’m focused on at the moment…

Do you ever have that feeling that you know something that no one else knows … and you’re just itching to tell them?

I’m working on a project that could be the biggest thing I’ve ever done in my career. But if I told you, I’d have to put a pillow over your mouth, so you’ll just have to be patient.

What else?

1. Since we’ve had several printings of my best-selling book, someone mentioned to me the other day that it was selling for $100 on Amazon. I discovered that is because they are out of them and it’s time for another printing. So, stop the presses. The next edition will be updated to make sure it’s all 100% relevant to today. As you know, things change. So the book will change soon. Keep an eye out for a new edition.

2. A dream prompted the idea for our online art conferences. We have trained thousands of people, and we will again soon … our next one features art instructors from all over the world. It’s called REALISM LIVE. It’s our most well-rounded general conference on art … covering all subjects like landscape, figures, portraits, still life, and more. And it features styles ranging from classical academic realism to impressionism. It’s THE one every artist should attend in November.

3. Snow used to be my enemy. Especially around February. So I’ve created a new retreat called WINTER ESCAPE. I announced it three weeks ago and it’s already 40% sold out. It’s for people who want to escape the cold and snow, and come to Florida to paint with me for a week. WINTERARTESCAPE.COM.

4. Somewhat of a surprise is how many people are registering early for the PLEIN AIR CONVENTION & EXPO, to be held in May in Lake Tahoe and Reno. I just visited there and picked some amazing places where a thousand of us can paint together. This one can’t be missed. 

So much more around the corner … Stay well. 

My Happy-O-Meter2024-10-27T09:19:43-04:00
13 10, 2024

The Depth of Friends

2024-10-13T08:36:23-04:00

A thick bank of fog brightly fills the view from my window. I can barely make out the light gray silhouettes of distant palms and poetic eucalyptus trees. Today is my last full day in “sunny” California; tomorrow I’ll return to Texas.

We lived in Northern California for a decade, and our kids were born in Berkeley. But alas, we moved to escape excessive taxes and other issues that were deteriorating our quality of life and our bank account. But I have to admit, as I rode down the freeway near our old house and saw Mount Diablo, the massive mountain in our area that I frequently painted with friends, I found I had a sentimental tear in my eye.

Since I started painting, I’ve always wanted to live where I was inspired to paint. California provided me variety in droves. We were an hour from an amazing and colorful city, and two hours from the Carmel coast, with giant rocks, crashing waves, and beautiful cypress trees. Or in another direction, I could be in the High Sierra surrounding Lake Tahoe. I used to fly to these places as a tourist, but living here was different.

On this trip I started in San Francisco, drove to the coast, where I painted with friends, then drove to Tahoe for some business, then flew to Los Angeles for more business, and then I drove to Laguna Beach. It was the perfect time away in some of my favorite areas.

But the tear wasn’t just for the beauty and inspired landscape, it was for my friendships. Though I have friends all over the world, there is nothing quite like those you see all the time, almost every week. Thanks to my friend Mitch, a reunion of old painter buddies was orchestrated that included a day of painting. When I left Northern California, I did not realize what I was leaving; when I returned, I realized how much they were missed. We had not been together for a few years, but it was like we picked up exactly where we left off.

A couple of nights ago, I visited the owner of a wonderful art gallery (Huse-Skelly) in Balboa Island, which I’d never before seen. I had dinner with her and her husband and ended up encountering her friends everywhere we turned. I met one woman from my wife’s hometown, and another from mine. They were a group that has gathered at the same outdoor table since COVID, not knowing one another until brought together by circumstance. And as they say, it was the only good thing to come out of the pandemic, and a bunch of them still meet there every Thursday night.

Friendship traditions are so important. In my painting life I have traditions of meeting once a year at three different painting retreats and a convention. The same people come back year after year when they can, and when they don’t they are missed — yet each year new friends become part of the family. At home in Austin, we meet with friends from church once a week on Tuesday nights, something we look forward to. At the lake in the Adirondacks, we have weekly Taco Tuesday with friends, where we meet at their house or ours to cook together and catch up. And when I was living out here, my buddies and I would meet on Thursday mornings and spend the full day together painting. Some of the best times were conversations in the car to and from painting.

Last week I had a stark reminder that life is short and that we need to grab every opportunity to create time with friends to enrich our lives. A young woman, age 31, who I met at our Asheville-area Plein Air Convention, had her house float away and was missing for days, until her body was recovered last week. She was so excited to be able to go to the convention and to get a picture with me, which we found on her Facebook page. I’m thankful she managed to come and live part of her dream. But I’m deeply saddened that one of our art family is gone so young and so tragically, swept away by rushing waters.

This is a reminder that life is short, that the end of life can come like a thief in the night, rarely expected. This week I was conducting an interview with artist Peter Adams on camera, and I asked what he wanted to get done before his life ended. He knew exactly, and rattled off a list and what he was doing about it. 

What about you? 

Could you give me your list and the actions you are taking?

How would you answer these questions?

  • I’ve always wanted to _____, but I haven’t because of ____.
  • What are the three most important things you want to do before you die?
  • If you had one healthy year to live, what are the first three things you’d do?
  • If someone was talking about your life at your funeral, reading your accomplishments, what needs to be added to that list?
  • Who are the friends you’ve been meaning to see and spend time with? 
  • What have you always dreamed of doing but have not because of limited thinking or fear of failure?

Elon Musk asked which is worse… trying it and failing? Or never trying? 

You will fail. I fail all the time. But fail forward. Keep working toward your giant dream. Don’t look back in regret.

There is never enough time or money, but you can overcome any odds. 

Live for your dream.

Live for your bucket list.

Live for the people you love with whom you want to have rich memories 

Eric Rhoads

PS: My heart goes out to everyone impacted by the two major storms and the fires out West. If you can, find a charity you can trust and give something.

In the Carolinas, I trust Brushes for Vincent, which is helping kids and artists, Asheville’s River Arts District, and of course Samaritan’s Purse.

PS2: Last night I had the pleasure of judging and presenting the grand prize at the LPAPA (Laguna Plein Air Painters Association) art show. It was a spectacular event — well-run, highly respected, and very successful. I want to thank them for their hospitality, and my hosts for the lovely accommodations.

A week ago today we concluded my annual Fall Color Week artists’ retreat in Monterey, California. We had perfect, unseasonable weather, and I did the best paintings of my life and met loads of new friends. Thanks to everyone who attended.

My next retreat is called Winter Escape, and it’s coming in February in St. Augustine, Florida.

My next online event is Realism Live, November 13-15. 

Then it’s Watercolor Live in January.

And before you know it, we’ll return to the Plein Air Convention, in Lake Tahoe this May.

See you there!

The Depth of Friends2024-10-13T08:36:23-04:00
22 09, 2024

Deep Appreciation

2024-09-22T07:28:29-04:00

I wish today was raining and cold. Instead it’s sunny and warm, almost the perfect summer day, no signs of fall weather other than the view of decay in the leaves surrounding our little island camp in the Adirondacks. Instead of packing up and leaving, it’s a day that feels like we should be waterskiing, canoeing, or painting in my little wooden electric boat. But I’ve done those things throughout this summer, which seemed to go by faster than most — we normally leave here much later in the fall. The loons are calling out, in their eerie way, as if to say goodbyeeeee, we’ll miss youuuuuuu. See you next springgggggg. 

Texas Tea

Like an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies, we’ve made a couple of trips with the boat stacked with all our stuff, our bags, our summer projects, and some of our kids’ stuff. I packed up some of the machinery in my woodshop and all of my painting gear, plus a dozen or so paintings I want to take home to finish for an upcoming show. Our little outboard can barely keep up as we chug across the lake with stuff stacked high. Thankfully no boats are making big waves, or we would find some of our stuff at the bottom of the lake. That already happened once this summer when a motor fell off our old metal rowboat.


Fare Thee Well

Saying goodbye is so hard, but I tell myself there’s always next year. But of course, someday next year won’t come. So, when we get in the boat one last time with our last load, we’ll drive around and take a look at our place from the water, taking it all in, and hoping we get a lot more summers in this magical place we call home.

The Last Goodbye

Not to be morbid, but I treat goodbyes differently these days. I love my friends and family members, and when I say goodbye, I make a point to tell myself this might be the last time I see them. That way I make sure to let them know how much they mean to me. I don’t want them to go away forever not knowing how I feel. Far too many have slipped away without that opportunity. Too many times I wish I had talked to them more. Too often I think about it but don’t get around to it. Then we get the call that they’ve moved on.

What about the people in my life I see all the time? Do they know how I feel? Or am I so used to seeing them, having them always there, that I don’t give them the love as if it were my last time? I don’t want to wake up to find someone has left without my having made sure there’s no more I need to say.

What about you?

What if you treated everyone as if it’s the last time you’ll see them?

A year ago this week, an acquaintance of mine left his house to run an errand and returned to find his wife of 30 years had collapsed and was unconscious. She eventually died. He is kicking himself because he was taking her for granted, probably left the house without saying anything or giving her a quick peck on the cheek. 

A Sudden Feeling

Earlier this week, I woke up and while I was having my coffee, I had an overwhelming feeling that a family member from another time in my life was going to have a funeral. I immediately flashed to the oldest of three sisters. It must be her, I was thinking, because she is so much older than the others. Two hours later I received a text that indeed one of the sisters was dying and just went into hospice, but it was not the oldest one. I immediately flashed back to the last time I saw her, and how the last time I was in town I did not go out of my way to go visit because I thought there would be more time to see her — after all, she’s young. 

It’s a little odd to have such an overwhelming feeling, but I think it runs in the family. 

Clear Vision

My Grandfather Goad once told me that when he was a little boy, his great-grandfather was bedridden at their farm in Tennessee. “Come in here, boys,” he said. “You get on your bikes and drive down the road to Mrs. Jenkins’s house. I think you’ll find her on the porch in her rocking chair, holding her baby. She’ll be dead. You run down and fetch that baby so your mother can take care of her.” They both rolled their eyes before getting on their bikes, which they did out of respect to their great-grandfather. But upon arrival, Mrs. Jenkins was dead and holding her baby. 

A Lake Goodbye

We have known some people here on the lake for over three decades. Some are friends, some only acquaintances, but every year when we return, someone we know never returns. Some have sold out and moved away, others can no longer get time for the summer, and others are prevented from returning because of health issues or worse. It’s always sad that we did not get to say goodbye and let them know how much they mean to us. 

So your challenge today …  go out of your way to show your appreciation for the people in your life. Say what needs to be said, don’t wait. And get in the habit of telling people every time you see them. Make sure they understand what they mean to you.

Make sure you have no regrets.

Eric Rhoads

PS: This has been an amazing week. I hosted hundreds of artists in 14 different countries and 49 states for my four-day online Pastel Live conference. What a joy it is to see these people light up with “aha moments” when they see some of the top masters in the world painting. It will happen again next year, and already most of them are signed up for 2025. Thanks to everyone who attended.

I’m grateful for the amazing team I have at Streamline, which is my company. They put things like this together and make them soar.

Something Brand New

Often when we have an event like this, we use it as a chance to make major announcements. This week we announced a new painting retreat for those who want to escape winter weather and go painting in a nice warm and sunny climate.

I have a spring retreat (PaintAdirondacks) and a fall retreat next week in Monterey (Fall Color Week), but the new one is called WINTER ESCAPE, and it will be held in February in St. Augustine, Florida, at about the time when we’re all sick of winter. I’m pretty excited because I love doing painting retreats where we all get together to paint for a week.

This is brand new, and so far only a handful of seats are gone. Because it’s new, we’re giving a $500 discount to the first 50 people who sign up before Thanksgiving. It’s limited to 100 people, and we’re taking over a hotel in downtown St. Augustine near all the great painting spots. (www.winterartescape.com)

Our next online conference is Realism Live, which is in November. After that, Watercolor Live is in January, then Acrylic Live in March and the Plein Air Convention in Lake Tahoe and Reno in May. I’m visiting there in a couple of weeks to do some prep work.

Have a terrific week. And just so I’ve said it, thank you for the opportunity to serve you every Sunday. 

Deep Appreciation2024-09-22T07:28:29-04:00
15 09, 2024

Someone Saved My Life Tonight

2024-09-15T10:54:33-04:00

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.

Someone Saved My Life Tonight2024-09-15T10:54:33-04:00
8 09, 2024

Full Speed Ahead

2024-09-08T07:58:10-04:00

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

Full Speed Ahead2024-09-08T07:58:10-04:00
25 08, 2024

The Day I Got Mean

2024-08-24T18:40:28-04:00

I squeak like a sick duck with each step as my rubber boots meet the wet dock, which is a little slippery. I’m bundled up with a warm fake-fur-lined cap, wearing my thickest red-and black-buffalo check shirt and a down coat. I’m determined to gather as much “dock time” as possible in spite of this cold front. The intense breeze is making me shiver, and my hands are stinging from the cold, red and brittle. I keep rubbing them between sentences to keep warm. The sky is dim, clouds loom overhead ready to dump another storm, and hints of fall color are sneaking into the trees while goldenrod is popping up back by the old log boathouse. It’s starting to feel like an early fall, though forecasters assure the return of summer any moment. 

Seasons

Life would be boring without seasons. When I first moved to Florida as a teen, I thought it might be odd having one season year round, but locals there know the difference between the seasons; there isn’t as much sameness in the weather as you’d think. I think God’s plan has been to breed the new with spring, enjoy the joy of summer, watch it start to die out with fall, and see it all freeze and deteriorate with winter. Though I prefer warm weather over cold, I love cold, rainy or snowy days when I can put on my warm clothes, sit by a fire, and sip hot tea or soup. It makes those days special. And just about the time we’ve had enough, something new comes along. 

I never realized it before, but businesses have seasons. We have seasons of new growth, seasons to enjoy the fruits of our labor, seasons when pruning is necessary or when the leaves or wheels fall off, and seasons when we have to hunker down and get through it. 

Families also have seasons. Jobs have seasons. Even artists have seasons. (For Picasso, it was a blue period between 1901 and 1904.) Sometimes seasons happen naturally, and sometimes they are forced on us. But seasons always result in change and should be embraced.

The Hard Stuff

It took me decades to realize that embracing the hard stuff is the most important thing you can do. Just being determined to get to the other side of it no matter what, knowing the sun will come up another day. 

I can’t believe the hard stuff I hear about that friends and readers share. Some of it is so unbearable, I wonder if I could get through it. And others who know about my own hard stuff wonder how we got through it. You just do. Right?

What season are you in right now?

Are you in a moment of joy and elation, a moment of new growth, new things? Maybe it’s a season where change is necessary? Or perhaps it’s a time when unfortunate change is forced on you.

I’ve noticed patterns. 

There are people I know who are always in a funk, always complaining about their circumstances, never really very happy. Usually angry about something or someone. Always blaming others. Never have been happy, never will be.

And there are others who have the weight of the world on them. Their problems are almost insurmountable, their fear and their pain is real, and yet they attack each day with joy, with a smile, with a positive outlook. They don’t complain, and don’t even share their pain without prompting.

Is it DNA? Upbringing? A medical disorder?

A Very Mean Person

My Great-Grandma Berry was miserable, always complaining, always controlling, never happy, never satisfied. I never saw her smile. If you looked up the “B word” in the dictionary, they would have her picture. She tried her hardest to make everyone around her miserable. I was only 8 or 10 when she died, and I loved her because I was supposed to love my great-grandmother. But even I knew that I did not want to be around her. But was it because she lost her son Everett in his early 30s to a sudden heart attack, three decades before I was born? I don’t know if she smiled or was happy before that moment and that brought her down and kept her down, or if she was always down.

Her husband, my Great-Grandpa Berry, was the happiest, most joy-filled, most grateful person I ever met. He was funny, had a spring in his step, and made everyone around him feel better about themselves. No matter what was going on in his life, he managed to stay positive. He too lost his son. Why did he keep a positive outlook?

My grandmother, his daughter, was like him, deeply happy and joy-filled no matter what, even though she lost her brother. And my dad, her son, was also that way, though he lost his uncle. 

Honestly, I cannot relate. I’ve never walked in their shoes. Though I’ve experienced some pretty awful things with one of my kids, including a sudden unexpected heart attack at 17, which he survived. 

Tell Me Why This Happens

Why do these things bring some of us down and not others? Why do some people stay down and blame others, and always have a black cloud over their heads? I’m not suggesting that upbeat people don’t grieve, of course they do, but they don’t wear it on their sleeve.

Perhaps some expert reading this will have an answer. But I think it’s a choice. 

When I Got Mean

As a teen, I went through a miserable time in my life. I did not like myself, and my friends abandoned me because I was trying to be someone other than myself, lying to them, and probably being negative. I blamed everyone else for my problems. I ended up losing all my friends at the time, and It took me going to live with my aunt and uncle in Arizona to pull me out of it, partly because I saw myself in another relative out there who was behaving the same way. I did not like what I saw and vowed to change who I had become. I’ve never looked back. 

Some Instagram philosopher says that if you find three things to be grateful for before bed every night for 21 days, you’ll become a positive person. Is it true? I don’t know.

I can stand on stage and do silly things and entertain thousands of people with no fear, probably because I’m comfortable in my own skin, and I’m not concerned about being judged. I’m one of the happiest people I know, almost always upbeat and happy. Even when our son was dying, I trusted that he would be OK. I choose to have an upbeat attitude. In the beginning I worked hard at it, and now it comes naturally. 

What about you? 

What have you become?

Are you happy being who you’ve become?
Is the season of your life affecting how you respond to life?

As the classic Bob Newhart routine says… Stop it.

Decide who you want to be, and become that.

Eric Rhoads

PS: Speaking of seasons … My summer season will wind down in a few weeks and I’ll be off to begin a busy season.

In September I’m hosting Pastel Live online, the largest online pastel training event in the world.

Then I’m hosting Fall Color Week, my fall artist retreat, which is a week of painting and play. Though it was sold out, we just managed to get 10 more rooms. As of Friday, there were only four rooms left.

Then I’m going to Lake Tahoe on a planning trip for the Plein Air Convention, which takes place in May. By the way, we just announced two amazing pre-convention workshops, one with Scott Christensen and another with the great watercolorist from Australia Joseph Zbukvic.

From there I return to San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, and points in between for various meetings and to be one of the judges for the Laguna Plein Air Painters Association (LAPAPA) show. Looking forward to seeing everyone on the left coast.

Oh, and hold this date: February 8-16. I’ve got something new I’ll be announcing soon.

The Day I Got Mean2024-08-24T18:40:28-04:00
18 08, 2024

The Echoes of Summer

2024-08-18T07:57:40-04:00

Laughter echoed across the lake. The sound of giggling children jumping into the water lasted all day. That night around midnight, teens were heard singing loudly, having a few moments with friends they’ve known their whole lives. 

The soft putter of an old motorboat rings in my ears this morning. The scene is an old man fishing with a young boy, probably his grandson. I instantly flashed back to countless hours fishing with my Grandfather Walter in his old rowboat.

These are the sounds of summer. 

Growing up in Indiana, summers passed too quickly. But they were the best of times, the best memories ever. Downtime away from school, and uptime with friends and family. 

We would hit the water first thing in the morning, stay in it all day, breaking only for burgers on the grill for lunch, Popsicles as many times as we could get away with, and dinner, which was usually more burgers. Then we would be back in the water or on the water, hanging with lake friends we didn’t see any other time of year. Being able to boat by ourselves was a freedom I only felt again when I got my driver’s license. In the boat I could spin and do circles and go as fast as I wanted. It was glorious.

Summer was a time of adventure and exploration.

I spend all year looking forward to our Adirondack summers on the lake. Our goal is to spend all summer here, and have the kids here with us, and hopefully one day their kids. It’s our time to reconnect, to play games, to do puzzles at the long antique dining table that never gets used, to talk till the wee hours of the morning with friends, to kayak, fish, and climb the mountain where you can see 50 miles from the top.

As a kid, I never wanted summer to end. School. Yuck. And as an adult, I never really want to leave here. I stay as long as weather or obligations will permit. But if it lasted forever, it wouldn’t be special. I wouldn’t have anything to look forward to.

The End Is Near

This week was the warning shot across the bow that summer is about to end for us here. One of our sons left to return to school, and our daughter will leave here within a few days. Soon we’ll be empty-nesters again, something we look forward to with mixed feelings. The quiet time will be nice, but it will feel empty, for sure. We’re counting the weeks we have left before our busy life of work kicks in, which we also look forward to.

The downside of spending summers in paradise is that we rarely leave our home here. When others take vacations or fly off to distant lands, we want to be here, focused on our tradition. It’s not a bad thing. We feel blessed. 

Now the pressure is on to make sure I do everything I want to do. This year I’ve not climbed the mountain, painted from my boat, or seen a couple of friends I want to see. Somehow I’ve been working more than I should. But I’m thankful, because years ago, this life wasn’t possible.

Luck

People say, “You’re lucky,” and I feel as though I am blessed, though I’m here because of deliberate action. I landed here because my dad wanted his family together on a lake all summer long, and he accomplished that for about three decades before he passed. He had to make major sacrifices to make it happen and had to work long hours for decades to be able to do it. It’s been the same for us, knowing we wanted to be able to spend our summers here, and it took decades of planning and work to accomplish such an important goal.

Fatherly Advice

Each summer when my son’s friends visit, I sit with them and take advantage of the opportunity to chat heart-to-heart and help them see a perspective they might not see. “You’re lucky to have this place,” said one of them, which was a chance to tell him what I went through to have it. That then leads to a discussion about the importance of dreaming and determining what you want your life to look like. You can be like a boulder pushed from the top of a mountain, bouncing around to different places before you land, or you can be more deliberate. You still won’t land in the exact place or in the exact way you’re thinking about, but you’re more likely to get close to landing where you want if you set some goals and make a plan. 

Trapped with Money

I know lots of people who inherited big money, so much that they did not need to work. Many of them are lost, feeling as though they lack purpose. They have one foot in the security of their money, but they love the idea of trying something new, trying to make it on their own. But since they don’t need to, they often don’t. That makes me sad.

Living the Life of Others

Years ago, my friend Mark ran his dad’s company. He was miserable in his big house and his big job, because he was living his dad’s dream and not his own. One day on the golf course he leveled with me that he felt trapped. I suggested he burn the bridges and not look back, that he needed to find himself. But he was addicted to security. Years later, when his dad’s company was sold, he was free, but by then he said he was too old to take risks. He died an unhappy man who never lived his own life. 

Time Runs Out

As I face yet another coming birthday this month, it’s usually the kick that I need to remind me that time is running out and that there are lots of goals I’ve yet to meet, experiences I’ve yet to experience. Every day is precious, but if you’re not doing what you love, you’re wasting a life you’ll never get back. If you cling to security, what’s safe, what’s easy, you’ll live a life of regret. 

What is sitting in a deep cave in the back of your mind that you’ve always wanted to do, but have not done? Now is the time, my friend. Stop making excuses. You can find a way, no matter what your circumstances or age. You’re never too old or too young (in most cases). 

Get busy. Focus on being deliberate. 

Eric Rhoads

PS: Last week I mentioned that I was nervous about doing a workshop, but the reviews came in, and I knocked it out of the park. Why did I not try it sooner?

This week I judged two art shows — one giant online art show, and the local Adirondack Plein Air show. That was loads of fun.

As my time here winds down, the new adventures begin. 

In September I’ll be hosting our Pastel Live online conference.

Then I’ll be hosting my Fall Color Week retreat in California on the coast. (Though it’s sold out, some new rooms just became available — but today is the last day to book them.) 

Following Fall Color Week, I head to Tahoe to do some planning for next year’s Plein Air Convention.

Then I head to Laguna to be one of the judges for the annual Laguna Plein Air event. 

There is more … but I’m too exhausted to talk about it all. And there should be a couple of major announcements coming this week or next. Stay tuned.

The Echoes of Summer2024-08-18T07:57:40-04:00
11 08, 2024

When Frustration Works Magic in Your Life

2024-08-10T11:52:09-04:00

Describing paradise isn’t possible. The feelings permeate your entire soul. How do you describe the feeling of the warm sun on your skin as you lie on the dock absorbing its rays? Or the feeling of seeing a giant nesting eagle almost within reach as you boat past her in a kayak in waterlily- filled waters? Or a hundred varieties of rich greens, all in one place, in view against the subtle purples of distant mountains? I feel blessed to be spending my summers here in the Adirondacks.

Lucky You

“You’re lucky to be able to spend all summer in a place like this,” said an acquaintance. Blessed yes — lucky, maybe. But everything I’m experiencing had little to do with luck and everything to do with a deliberate plan I began making after a frustrating turning point. As it turns out, most of the good things that happen in life are born of frustration and the desire to change those feelings and overcome the limitations that cause them.

Limited Time

Once I was exposed to this paradise — thanks to the vision of my father, who found it and moved here for his summers — I was so in love with how my body melted into relaxation within 24 hours of being here, and how my eyes were stimulated with its deep, oxygen-flooded woods, crystal clear waterfalls flowing over giant boulders, and its 6 million acres of protected beauty. But I had to leave … off to work, unable to stay, only able to squeeze in a weekend once a summer, at best. Wanting to be here, and frustration that I could not be here more, drove me to make a plan that allowed me to be here all summer, every summer. 

Powerful Dreams

Plans like this are driven by dreams so powerful that nothing is allowed to distract you from making them happen. I told myself that by the time I had kids, I wanted them to grow up on this lake, experiencing true halcyon days of summer, for every summer of their lives. (Or at least every summer till they were in charge of their own timeline.) My plan started with a goal … spend all summer here. That meant I had to become independently wealthy or retired, neither of which was an option. But being driven by the dream, I gradually looked for ways to unwind commitments where my in-person presence was required to run my businesses, including team and business meetings in an era where Zoom had yet to be invented and the internet was just starting to become a thing. Yet by the time my kids were born, I hit my goal, and made a commitment that I would never leave on business trips or for meetings in the summer months. Happily, I’ve only violated that a handful of times in two decades.

Without frustration, we don’t know how much better our lives can become. Without pain, we cannot appreciate the perfect days.

My Sucko Boss

As a young man of 19, I was able to take a two-week vacation from my radio job in Miami to join my parents on their trip to Europe. It was my first time there, and my eyes were opened to a whole new world. But when my time was up, my parents suggested I see if I could get just three more days off to join them on the next leg of their trip, Vienna. But an overseas call to the U.S. (difficult in those days) to my boss resulted in him screaming, “NO! And if you’re not back on time, don’t bother coming back.” So I came home, only to discover I could have stayed a few more days and no one would have cared. It was simply a power play from my boss. 

Embrace Horrible Moments

Defining moments of frustration like this need to be embraced. It was that split-second moment that made me tell myself, “I’m never going to work for anyone again. I’m never going to allow myself to be placed in a position where I can’t do what I want.”

Kicked Into Action

It was that moment that got the squirrels turning the wheels in my previously stunted brain. I was on fire with ideas, and within a few months, I had set up some side businesses, built up my savings, and eventually quit my job. I took one more job because my plan included making myself well-known in certain radio circles by taking a loser radio station to number one in less than a year — which then got me several job offers and resulted in my starting my own consulting business, taking all of the jobs offered. That was my launch.

No matter how stuck you may think you are, there are always options to get you unstuck. And the best moments are the “I’ve had enough” moments. 

Doing the Right Thing

Though I was tempted to quit and stay in Europe, it was not the right thing to do for my career or for my need to pay my bills. But it stimulated my thinking, which resulted in the creation of a plan. My frustration and need to become independent overcame the fear of going out on my own. 

If you’re feeling stuck, know that there is a solution, and there is hope. But things don’t magically solve themselves; they require your thought and your action. There is always a way out. But you have to overcome the tricks your brain is trying to play on you.

Problems Seem Bigger Than They Are

Our fears tend to enlarge the magnitude of our problems, and then we tell ourselves stories that it’s impossible to escape. It’s never impossible. You just have to get sick and tired of where you are before you’ll make the changes you need to make. 

Where are you stuck? 

Are you feeling trapped?

What is frustrating you?

I guarantee you, if you embrace the frustration and the fear, you can change your circumstances, no matter how stuck or alone you feel.

Eric Rhoads

PS: You would think a guy like me, who appears to be overconfident at times, would not allow his brain to control him with negative thoughts. Right? I’ve stood on stages in front of thousands of people and made a complete fool of myself. I just hung upside down from aerialists’ silks at the Plein Air Convention. I’ve been on broadcasts reaching millions of people while entertaining. I’ve been featured in hundreds of articles, TV shows, and radio stations. I’ve hung out with rock stars. I’ve overcome so many things, yet there are moments when fear or doubt still creep in.

I just experienced two of those moments.

The first was because an art gallery owner visited my studio. He picked out 16 paintings to take to the gallery, some of which need to be finished, or signed or varnished. He then said, “I want to do a show, and I want you to come in for a reception.”

Gulp. Fear set in. It was one thing to send paintings to a gallery, it was another to commit to a show where I would be laid bare in front of the world. My mind immediately went into negative overdrive with “What if?” questions: What if I don’t sell anything, what if I fail, what if I embarrass myself? After all, this gallery sells the very top contemporary painters and a lot of historic masters. To think I’d be in a show hanging next to those paintings was intimidating. “I’m not good enough; I’m not even close to their level.” I was experiencing imposter syndrome. All legitimate feelings of course, because I know that my work isn’t as good as a lot of other work. But the gallery owner reminded me, “I’m not going to stake my reputation on a show of substandard work. Relax. You’ll be fine.”

I have not committed to the show yet because I want to see how the paintings turn out first. If I do it, I need to push my limits to be as good as I’m currently capable of. (Not to mention not having a lot of painting time.) But I’m leaning toward doing it, assuming I can get the rest of the paintings done. And I should probably just commit and set a deadline so I can’t back out.

I’m sharing this because I know I have to push myself beyond my negative thoughts, and I wanted you to know I still have them.

Another thing…

I got a call from Sandy Hildreth, the organizer of the local Adirondack plein air festival (which is not the same as my Adirondack Publishers’ Invitational retreat). The artist set to do her workshop this weekend backed out due to health issues, and she asked if I would do it.

My first response was, “No, I’ve never taught a workshop.” Her response was perfect … “Maybe not, but I see you working with painters at your events and you clearly know what you’re doing, and I’ve seen you teach on video.” 

Again, my doubts crept in and I declined. But as I thought about it, I thought, “If not now, when? What if this is my one chance to do a workshop?” So I called her back and agreed to do it. 

My brain had been playing games with my head. “You’re gonna bomb, you’re not as good as others who could be teaching it, your artist friends are going to mock you.” 

But here I am, Sunday morning, and I’m about to head over for day two of my workshop, which started yesterday morning. I don’t know what I was worried about. I’m seeing that I’m able to help some really good artists figure out how to get better. I’m seeing the lights turn on when they suddenly “get” certain concepts. 

I’m telling you this because I want you to know that these feelings are normal. Tony Robbins says this is your reptilian brain trying to protect you. But we have to overcome those thoughts and fears and do it anyway, because if we don’t, we’ll sit sheepishly in our comfortable chair and never leave it.

By the end of today, I’ll either know that I rocked the workshop or I will have received bad feedback. Either way, I will have grown. So I’m glad I said yes.

What’s holding you back?

If you’re telling yourself … I’d love to learn to paint, but…

  • I’m not good enough
  • I don’t have talent
  • I can’t draw a stick figure
  • I’m not an artist

I guarantee I can teach you in my Pastel Live even next month. It’s a 3-day online workshop with the best pastel painters in the world, and pastel is one of the best ways to learn to paint because it does not require you to mix liquids and chemicals to figure out colors. Like crayons, you grab the colors you want, but unlike crayons, the colors are vibrant and professional-looking. Join me by visiting pastellive.com.

One of my next goals … I want to stand onstage in front of an audience at a non-art event, and show the audience that they can lose their stress and build their self-esteem by learning to paint. Then I’m going to pass out materials to 10,000 people in the room, and teach them how to paint step by step, right there from their seats. Then we’re all going to celebrate our success when they all realize they can do this. 

Will I do it? Absolutely, now that the goal is set. It’s just a matter of time. 

When Frustration Works Magic in Your Life2024-08-10T11:52:09-04:00
4 08, 2024

Finally, Answers to Your Questions

2024-08-04T08:00:39-04:00

When I speak of my view, looking out at the fog rolling over rows of distant pines; when I describe the loons cooing, with their eerie calls bouncing off the distant water and echoing back; or when I articulate sitting in the screened porch, 140 years old and with the original wicker couches and chairs that squeak every time I shift my weight, I do so to help you escape for a brief moment to take on my character and place, so my words might be understood from a different perspective … my perspective. 

From some of you who occasionally open my weekly e-mails, from time to time I get questions. There have been more lately. Possibly because I say what I’m thinking about, without thinking about signals it might send. 

Are you OK? 

That’s a polite way to ask if I’ve developed some disease that has ravaged my previously stocky, bloated body. 

I set a goal to live the rest of my life under a certain weight and with more strength because the excess was going to eventually cause problems I would rather avoid. Unlike some things that can’t be undone, weight loss can solve a basket of problems. So over the course of one year, I gradually removed the weight of a small child by hiring a trainer, sweating like a pig (do pigs sweat?), and fighting the urge to overindulge in cookies. Self-discipline is all it took, and it is what it takes to come back when I lose my way with an occasional binge.

Not only am I healthy, my deeply researched supplement and exercise protocol is reversing my biological age. My only issue is a cranky back from time to time. Thanks for asking.

Are you gonna retire?

Ha! Three of my four grandparents lived active and healthy lives to their mid-90s, as did both of my parents. My dad worked 15-hour days until about two weeks before he died. He started a new business at 70, made it giant, then closed it at 80 when he discovered something he loved more, which he did till he died. It was not a small hobby business; he accomplished incredible things in his last 14 years. 

So why would I stop? What would I do?

I love the people I work with, I love my customers, and I’ve never been happier in my work life. I’ve made more friendships than ever, and I’ve been able to scale things to exceed a goal I set in 2018 to teach a million people to paint. My team and I have been able to help millions of people find their artistic inner voice and teach them how to harness its power to help them be their happiest selves. 

There is nothing I can currently think of that I would rather be doing. I get to travel to amazing places, take people behind the scenes at museums, paint the world with friends, and help people find their true identity through art. (But if I come up with something, I’ll let you know.)

I don’t intend to slow down, I intend to speed up. 

I have big, audacious goals, boxes I need to check, and I have to figure out a strategy to pass the baton in the event I get hit by a truck, so we don’t leave anyone hanging without the gifts we’ve tried to provide them. That means less day-to-day reliance on me, and letting my team run things better than I ever could.

Are you going to continue with your daily YouTube show?

If you don’t know, when COVID started, I felt the need to step up and do something to set people at ease. So at the end of the first week of lockdowns, I started going on Facebook and YouTube daily at noon. I did it 7 days a week for 7 months, then I shifted to 5 days a week and have done that ever since. I don’t think we’ve ever missed a day, though we’ve done some replays for a while here and there, but we do fresh new shows every weekday now. 

There is good news and bad news. The good news is that the show has reached millions of views and helped millions learn art. We’ve heard from thousands who have told us their stories of discovering their inner artist because of the show. And a lot of new people have discovered us, which has increased the size of our in-person and online events. 

But there is a downside. Booking guests, preparing shows, doing marketing for shows, teaching guests how to be on shows, editing shows, uploading shows — it takes a team of people. When we first started, we just overloaded our existing team, but now we’ve had to bring on more teams for the purpose. That of course increases our expenses. It also changed how I work, because I now need to devote a couple of hours a day to the show, which means I’ve got to get up two hours earlier to get those two hours of required work time back. But I think it’s worth the extra effort and expense, because it continues to touch lives, and every day someone new tunes in, discovers art, and starts doing it. And there is a community who tune in live daily, and who love to connect in the chat. 

Our biggest single show has had 200,000 views. But millions of people have watched, and we hear from people all over the world who are tuning in.

I was tempted to cut down to one day a week, which would be easy, but I don’t want to take the easy way out, I want to be there for people every day (which sometimes requires guest hosts during travel times). I started doing “Marketing Mondays” live to answer art marketing and sales questions, and I’ve started doing “Feedback Friday,” where I critique paintings. So we’re on every day at noon Eastern.

There will come a time when I’ll stop. I don’t know when that will be. 

Note: When you watch for over 20 minutes, when you subscribe, and when you make a comment or a like or a forward, YouTube rewards us by pushing the show out to new people. That always helps.

What do you need? How can we help?

  1. I need to know what you need, what I can create or provide, that will improve your quality of life. It does not have to be about art. A simple e-mail with your thoughts or feedback would be welcomed. I promise I’ll read every single one. This is my personal e-mail: ([email protected]). This will help me know what books or articles to write, what trips or products to create, what to fix or improve, who you want us to do projects with, and  what we need for our future together.
  2. I’d love to hear your story if we have somehow enriched your life, because we need to share these stories to give others the courage to step out and try something that they don’t believe they can do.
  3. Tell others about their options. My mission is simple. Teach millions of people to paint even if they don’t believe they can do it. Introduce them to us, expose them to things we do that others might like. A simple forward of an e-mail to someone with your comment, “We should do this together,” or, “You should try this,” will be more meaningful than anything I can say.
  4. Last but most important, keep me and my family in your prayers if you pray, and if not, keep us in your thoughts. I need the full armor of God to guide me in everything I do.

My wife says I’m an ideas guy. The other day she told a neighbor, “Eric comes up with big ideas and then figures out how to do them.” 

Like you, I have doubts. When I set a goal of teaching a million people to paint, I had doubts it would happen, but I continued telling myself I was doing it, and it came true. 

I have some dreams I’ve yet to figure out, things like …

  • How to get our own show about the plein air lifestyle on Netflix. I need help with that … contacts and financial support. By doing this we can bring plein air painting to the masses and touch millions of lives. This was moving forward before COVID, I had a deal with a network, but I needed to raise a million bucks to produce it. I’ve decided to shift to a different network and allow someone else to produce it in order to get it done. 
  • I want to build the world’s first museum devoted to plein air painting. I need a big-city location so it will get visited, a building, and a lot of money to build or remodel it, support it, and acquire paintings. Of course, I’ll contribute my collection, but I need an example of every important painter in our generation to reflect this movement, plus the history leading up to this current moment. You can help by forwarding this to someone who shares our passion and has the financial ability to make this happen.

Those are a couple of the big ones, but there are dozens of others, including books, courses, and other things, which I’ll reveal as the time is right.

I’m sorry to make this “about me.”  But as the intensity of questions continued, I felt this provided a lot of answers.

Eric Rhoads

PS: Our world is in turmoil. More than ever, we need the ability to escape the constant drum of rhetoric. The magic of painting is that I can walk into my studio after a stressful day, and my stress melts away in just a few minutes of painting.

I never saw myself as a painter, never believed I could learn to do it, and felt that “natural-born” talent was required. It’s not. I’m living proof.

One of the best ways to start painting is by discovering pastel painting, because we’ve all used crayons as kids. Pastel is vibrant, the sticks are usually hand-held, and it does not require learning to mix colors before painting. It is, I think, the best place to start.

My Pastel Live online event is a global conference on painting, featuring the world’s leading pastel artists. It’s important to start learning from the best, since that’s what we all aspire to become. Pastel Live is coming up in September, and it’s a 3- or 4-day event (optional 4th day for new artists or as a refresher of basics for established artists). I’m inviting you to attend — and if you cannot be there live, replays are available.

Finally, Answers to Your Questions2024-08-04T08:00:39-04:00
28 07, 2024

Been Disrupted Lately?

2024-07-27T12:11:07-04:00

A squirrel chatters loudly as it jumps across the lace-like tree branches that surround my 140-year-old octagon-shaped porch overlooking the lake. It’s my favorite place — where I have morning coffee, where I read in the evenings, and where I sit to relax during those rare times when I have downtime. When guests come, it’s where most of our chatting takes place, and it’s where I practice my guitar. Sometimes I just sit and stare at the lake and listen to the loons.

Unlike June, our first month here at the lake, when things were silent and it was rare to see a boat or a neighbor, the July 4th holiday stimulated most surrounding camps to fill every cabin with guests. It got busy with boats and parties, and now it’s deadly quiet again. But most will be back in another week for the rest of the summer.

Some summers at the Rhoads camp are packed with visiting friends, but so far we’ve had no guests. But we’ve had the gift of having all three kids home together, a rarity these days with their busy lives. I told them I’m happiest when we are all together. 

Another Lake Another Time

Growing up, life seemed normal when my parents and brothers and I were all together at our lake home on Lake Wawasee in Indiana. We boated, sailed, did water skiing and canoeing together, cooked out, and played games at night. We managed to carry that summer tradition through high school and college ages. And we were shocked when we thought it was all coming to an end, when Dad sold the place to move off the lake after being there for three generations. 

None of us were terribly excited about the new place in the Adirondacks, not because it wasn’t beautiful, but because our tradition, our secure feeling, was uprooted. Our comfort zone had been disrupted. But dad was ultimately right. Living on Golden Pond was better. We fought it for a while, but eventually fell in love with the new place’s stunning beauty, lush woods, and rich history. And we continued those same family traditions here and built new, better traditions, like breakfast in the tiny Trapper Cabin and dessert and ghost stories in the Teepee.

The Power of Disruption

It takes a special vision to disrupt family tradition, to abandon a place where our grandparents and great-grandparents had lived. But it had changed, and instead of a quiet, tree-lined lake, it had become packed with houses squeezed in together and thousands of loud, exhaust-spewing ski boats and jet skis. A teenager’s dream, but not a very peaceful place for civilized adults. 

I wonder if I could have done what my dad did, making a disruptive change for the better against the wishes of my family. Or would I succumb to the pressure to keep things the way they are, just because it’s always been done that way?

What about you?

Family is one thing, business is another. Recently I’ve experienced some planned disruption in my business. I felt the need to make a change and replace a perfectly lovely person, and friend. There was nothing wrong with this person, who was perfectly competent, but change was needed to take things to the next level, and there was no place to put this person. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, but it was the right thing to do if I was to prepare for the next level of growth. In reality, I resisted it; I did not want to let go and make the change, because comfort is easier than disruption.

Disruption is painful. It’s uncomfortable. Having to ask good people to move on is the worst. Yet if you don’t do it, you eventually risk suffering the effects of no change, which can put more jobs at risk.

Is there a place in your life or work where your gut is telling you to make a change, but you’re resisting? 

Pain Is Gain

Every high achiever I’ve ever studied has said exactly the same thing: You don’t grow if you don’t face pain. Making changes in your life, your work life, your relationships is painful. Not making them tends to result in becoming like a stale pond of still water … stagnant and gathering algae. Yet when you put a fountain in the middle of a pond, to agitate the water and keep things alive and moving, the pond recovers from being stale. The same is true for life.

Are you due to be agitated? Have you become stale?

Apple founder Steve Jobs, who was known for disruption, famously said, “Innovation is the ability to see change as an opportunity, not a threat.” His perspective embraces disruption rather than fearing it. Even Helen Keller highlighted the power of adversity: “Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.” Facing pain head-on can lead to resilience and strength. As 1888 presidential candidate Frederick Douglass said, “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” 

Recently a Navy SEAL talked in a TikTok video about how all the good things that happened in his life occurred because of his willingness to endure pain. The more pain you suffer, the better things get.

’I Should Have Done It Sooner’

I often hear those words from someone who delayed making a change for years, only to look back and realize it was not as painful as they had feared, and that things were better. Someone else I know told me they had clung to a job they hated, eventually got fired, and told me it was the kick in the butt they needed. Life is better as a result. It might be a job, a relationship, or a work-related decision.

Using Milestones

We are officially at the halfway point of 2024. It went by so fast — it feels like it was just New Year’s. I like to look at milestones like this as a chance to start thinking about what I want to change next year, then using the next six months to make a plan and lay the track. If I don’t, life gets away and growth never happens. Birthdays are a great time to ask yourself if you’re happy, or if you need to make changes or need to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

If something about that is ringing true, ask yourself, “What should I do about it, and why do I fear it?” What’s the worst that can happen? It’s probably not as bad as you think it is.

Be bold. Be strong. Make a decision and move forward so you don’t become a stagnant pond.

Eric Rhoads

PS: A friend of mine says, “If I lose sleep over something more than three nights, I need to make a change.” Usually it’s about someone causing you grief that needs to move out of your life. Sometimes, though, we tolerate it because they are people we cannot completely disconnect from … like family. What are you losing sleep over?

I used to lose sleep over learning to paint. I wanted to do art, but I feared that I would fail, so I did nothing. I knew I did not have natural talent and couldn’t even draw a stick figure well. My attempts reinforced my beliefs, and once a teacher even told me, “You really aren’t cut out for this.” I was devastated but not surprised.

Years later, I accidentally came across info about an instructor who sounded different, so I sought him out, and he discovered things inside of me I didn’t know existed. A great teacher can make the difference.

I’ve devoted the last two decades to teaching people how to paint, and the result is that massive numbers of people have discovered their inner gifts, once someone like us showed them how to bring them out.

I now paint in most mediums (oil, watercolor, acrylic, gouache, pastel), and knowing what I know now, if I had to start over, I’d start with pastel. Why? Because my earlier start was confused by formulas and mixtures to make color and make it flow. I was intimidated by oils, smells, chemicals. But with pastel, you already know how to use it … it’s like a sophisticated crayon, with brilliant color. You don’t have to learn to mix chemicals or mix colors, you just learn by putting one color over another. And in most cases, you just choose the color you want. 

My annual Pastel Live online event has taught thousands to paint over each of the last few years. If you immerse yourself for 3 days (and 4 if you choose our optional Essentials Day for beginners or as a refresher), you can’t help but walk away knowing how to paint and feeling like you made huge progress. Then as you practice, knowing the principles learned from the 30 or so top masters teaching, you skip a lot of years of trying to figure it out on your own.

The event is coming September 18-20. If you cannot attend live, just know that you get replays with each signup that you can watch on your own schedule. Though the experience is best when you’re with us live.

Visit PastelLive.com

Been Disrupted Lately?2024-07-27T12:11:07-04:00