Sketchbook on my lap and watercolors in hand, I’m trying to capture the vibrant pink clouds as the rising sun bounces off their otherwise purple shadows. I’m trying to learn to paint the feel, not just the scene. I think that’s a lifetime goal. Then again, sometimes I forget the goals that are important to me, and then I forget to pursue them.

A Basket of Dreams

Imagine for a moment that you have a basket sitting there in your kitchen. Beside it are some note cards. Every time you have an idea, or a dream about doing something, you write it down on a note card and throw it into the basket.

In my case, I have a document open on my desktop. It’s the basket that all my ideas go into. I have 30 ideas a day, and every one goes in my basket.

Lots of Pitches

My team will tell you that I’ve been known to drive them a little bit crazy. I’ll have an idea, send an e-mail throwing it to the team, and expect them to do it. The problem is that I keep throwing fastballs. They probably get 50 a year, maybe more. They have to catch them, then decide what to do with them next. Do they start working on them, sit on them, or delay them?

Driving them Crazy

They’ve come to realize I’ll throw them a ball, they’ll start working on it, and then a month later, I’ll not even remember throwing it at them or it will no longer be important to me. It’s a giant waste of resources. But when things are working well, they’ll throw them in their basket, then hold a priority meeting with me. “Boss, we’ve got 56 things in the basket. Let’s go through them and decide their priority.” This is how a well-oiled machine works. In the past, I’d ask why something wasn’t done and they would tell me, “Because we’re working on this other project.” No human alive could accomplish it all. 

So is this something you should do?

Let me ask you some questions.

1. What are your five most important priorities to get done before your life ends?
2. What are five places you want to visit before you die?
3. What are five things you’ve always wanted to do but have not yet done?
4. What are the biggest goals of your life? Your career?
   

If you can’t answer these questions, you need to consider a basket and priorities. Include your family too, so they can live the family dreams.

There are a few important steps I think most of us should take.

1. We need a dream basket.
2. About this time of year, we need to pick up the basket, pull everything out of it, and ask the following:
   1. Is this item still important to me? 
   2. If so, is it important to me this year?
3. Anything important this year needs to be given a priority: No. 1, No. 2, etc.
4. Anything big for next year or a few years down the road, you need to ask: “Do I need to be working on it this year?” Some things take years.
5. These priority items need to be your goals. Ideally you should have goals by category…
   spiritual goals, physical goals (weight, diet, workout), mental goals (learning, growing), travel goals, financial goals, etc.
6. Start making a plan now, so you hit the ground running. If you wait till January, you’ll miss the first-quarter goals.

A Giant Mistake

Have you ever been so busy that you don’t have time to work on something that is important to you?

Last year I was so insanely busy that I did not go through my bucket, I did not set my goals, and I did not follow my regular routine. As a result I lacked focus, and because I had no goals, I did not hit them. But I’m sure I didn’t hit them because I didn’t set them. It’s too unstructured for me.

The Big Powwow 

Most years I get my key executives together in a room, and we pound out our priorities and goals for the year. It takes about three days. But we were so busy last year, we did not do it. Therefore I feel like we just drifted this year. 

I’ve discovered that success isn’t about a ton of goals, it’s about one big goal and two smaller ones. Once you knock those out, you can add others. We try to have three goals per quarter, no more.

This year my basket goals are being set, and in a couple of weeks, several of my team will gather for a full week and we will walk away with a budget, our company and department goals, our new initiatives, and our targets. And I’ll also do the same for my personal goals. When you’re shooting into the air, you never know if you hit a target.

I’m so embarrassed that I missed this, and I feel like I threw the year away. Don’t let it happen to you.

Your Mission

You need this, whether you’re on your own, running a business, or running your life or your family. If you don’t set goals, you probably will miss out on the things you want to get done in life. Life goes by quickly. You need to hold yourself accountable to those goals and not let yourself off the hook. Even if you can’t afford them, you need to find a way. You always can. That’s why planning is important.

Staying on Track

Goals are useless unless they are top of mind and in your face at least weekly. If you stay focused on them, you stand a higher chance of hitting them. If you never look at them and forget about them, I guarantee you’ll miss them. So get busy!

Eric Rhoads

PS: Monumental Growth

One year I was hurting. I felt my painting ability was suffering, and I wasn’t getting better. So I sat down and made two goals. One was to be better at landscape painting, and one was to be better at portrait painting. I then made a plan, followed my plan, and I actually made more progress in one year than any year before that.

Starting on Tuesday, I’m helping others around the world achieve their painting goals with my online conference REALISM LIVE. I have about 22 top master artists teaching for four days, and people attending from over 20 countries. Thousands have attended this event. It is, I believe, the fastest way to make great progress, because you are immersed for four days. Then of course you have to apply yourself and practice what we’ve taught you. We’re teaching portraits, figures, drawing, painting, still life, landscape painting, and more. There is time to join by going to www.realismlive.com. But do it before the price increase tonight at midnight. I have a guarantee: If you attend, and don’t feel as though you got enough value on day one for the entire fee, let us know by the end of day one and we’ll refund your money. Join us, even if you think you can’t paint. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.

PS 2:
I’m doing a new artists’ retreat in St Augustine, FL, in February. It’s called WINTER ESCAPE (“Escape to Sunny Florida from the Snow and Ice”). It’s already 50% sold out, and I think it could be sold out before Christmas. You can learn more at www.winterartescape.com.

I’m nervous.

In spite of the glowing sun hitting the trees and the cool breeze making the grass sway, in spite of the musical birds nesting in the trees above the back porch, I’m nervous.

I’m not only nervous, I’m anxious.

In spite of my desire to avoid the news cycle and to not become consumed with social media, I’m nervous about the election and the future of America.

Wait.

Before you assume I’m about to make a political endorsement, just know I don’t do that. 

Though I desperately want my favorite candidate to win, for the good of the future of our country, I don’t feel it’s my place to try to influence you just because I happen to have a platform.

I’ve spent too many years hopefully building your trust and respect, and for me to try and convince you that my candidate is better is a fool’s game. Nothing I say will change your mind.

But I am anxious because the media rhetoric has me believing that if my person does not win, the world will change for the worse. The problem is, the other side believes the same thing. 

We all want a better world, a better economy, a safer place and a better life for our kids and grandkids.

My Prayer

I was having a conversation about this with God in my prayer this morning … Here’s how it went.

Me: Hi, God. Thank you for this beautiful day. But I have to admit, I woke up a little nervous. I have a little anxiety.

God: Anxiety? Really, Eric? Why?

Me: I’m worried about the election. I’m worried about our country. I’m worried about the future of America and the future of my kids’ freedom.

God: OK, got it. How can I help you?

Me: Well, I don’t know. I was thinking of praying that you make sure my candidate gets elected, but what if I’m wrong?

God: You’ve prayed for things before that were wrong. Sometimes I’ve answered your prayers and they turned out not to be good for you.

Me: I know. Why?

God: Because sometimes what you want isn’t good for you and I need to show you that you need to be more reliant on me, not on things. After all, I’m not Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. I’m not here to grant wishes like a genie in a bottle, I’m here for you to worship me, and for you to change your life because you want to please me, not because you want to win brownie points. Remember, no matter how good you are, you cannot earn your way into heaven. There is only one way.

Me: Thanks for the reminder. So what can I do about my anxiety?

God: Let me handle it. Turn it over to me. Instead of praying for your candidate, pray that my will be done.

Me: I know, but it’s hard to let go. I want to control things.

God: Trust me. I’ve got everything under control. If you don’t get your way, maybe there is a lesson you need to learn. Remember, Eric, I’ve got this. I’ve seen every ruler since the beginning of time. Some were good, some were bad. I give you free will for a reason. I’ve watched a lot of countries destroy themselves because they put the wrong people in power. 

Me: OK, God. 

God: Your prayers mean everything to me. I want to hear from you. I want everyone to turn to me. I want you to change your plans according to my plans for you. But that means you have to trust me. You have to talk to me, and listen to me. 

Think about this … there are two quarterbacks. Both take a knee and pray to win the game. Just because one does not win the game does not mean I don’t love them both. There is a reason for everything. You need to rely on me, but you need to listen to the lessons when things don’t go your way. Stop stressing.  I have people who love me who are praying for both candidates. My followers are not Democrats, Republicans, or Libertarians. They are all in my family.  Just know, I’m in control.

Me: OK. I agree. I pray that whoever ends up with the keys to the country, you bless them, guide them, and lead their heart to make the right decisions for the good of the people. 

God: Now you get it.

Your Vote on Tuesday

If you’re someone who prays, pray that God will lead your heart and your decision. Pray that you’ll listen to the voice inside of you, pray for the future of this great land, and pray that our leader will do what’s best for our people. Most importantly, pray for God’s will.And if your person does not win, just know that there is a reason. Embrace it, learn from it, and keep praying for our leaders even if you don’t like them. Pray for your enemies.

If you’re not someone who prays, listen to your heart, not your head. Don’t succumb to the pressure of others. Be the real you. Most importantly, no matter what, get out and vote. Don’t ever think your vote does not matter. 

And if you’re anxious, give it up to God. 

Eric Rhoads

PS: This is all very entertaining. Though I’m tired of all the political nonsense, it’s fun trying to predict what happens next, what bomb will be dropped on each candidate or what distraction will show up to keep us from voting. It’s better than any movie.

But … I know a lot of people who have put their lives on hold. Their world will come to an end, they think, if the wrong person gets into office. Don’t let this stop you from living your life, doing what you need to be doing. Lick your wounds or celebrate, but in either case, move on and get back to living the richest life possible. 

Speaking of entertaining…

Just around the corner in November is my next online conference. It’s called Realism Live, and it’s the last time we’re gonna do it for a couple of years. It’s THE BEST ALL AROUND ART CONFERENCE for those who want to learn a little bit of every kind of realism art … landscape painting, drawing, portraits, figures, still life, and more. I think we’re down to our last 200 seats (this is a massive worldwide art training event that THOUSANDS have attended), and I suspect those seats will go fast because the price increases very soon. Register at www.RealismLive.com.

Wanna Get Away to the Sun?
A lot of the country had its first snow this week. By February, you’ll be sick of gray days. My newest artist retreat is called WINTER ESCAPE. It’s being held in St. Augustine, FL, the oldest city in America, and we’re going to implement some new things we’ve never tried at our other retreats. We’re already 47% sold out. If you wanna go, sign up now. If we get enough people, we’ll be able to take over a whole hotel on our own, which will make it even more fun. Check it out at www.winterartescape.com.

Watercolor People…
Watercolor Live is coming up in January, and it’s already exceeding expectations. Register at www.WatercolorLive.com.

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. 

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!

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. 

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

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.

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.