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Purple-gray hills are peeking over the tops of the trees of my very rough, unkempt, natural backyard, which is filled with gnarly live oak trees, prehistoric limestone rocks, sage-colored prickly pear cactus, and dusty orange and rich green cedar trees.

Sneezing wildly as I sit in the open air on the long, covered back porch, I can’t take it any longer and move inside. No, it’s not my cold; that’s gone. It’s the cedar, part of a well kept secret in Austin, Texas. It’s called “Cedar Fever,” and it’s an allergy most of us get it after living here three years or more. Usually it begins around Christmas and lasts until early spring.

Though I prefer to sit on the porch on Sunday mornings, listening to the sounds of birds, distant barking dogs, and the rustling of treetops, I’ve walked down the little path through the tall grasses with dried leaves crunching under my feet as I made my way to my little studio building.

My Little Studio in the Trees

The studio is a 12 x 16-foot building, with a porch of almost the same size, tin roof, and dark brown slatboards. I’ve got a fireplace on the porch for sitting out on cold days, though lately it’s been too cold, even with the fire. Last week we had a couple of rare 16-degree days — an opportune time for the heat to go out in our house and a chance to appreciate what we had.

I feel blessed with our little slice of paradise in the woods surrounding Austin (they call it a “green belt”). I started to say I also feel lucky, and there is some luck involved, but I think too many people hope to get lucky instead of making their own luck.

Is Luck on Your Side?

I hear about luck a lot. Probably every week some artist tells me that they’re having bad luck selling paintings — that they’ve had some years where they have been very lucky, and others where their luck has run out.

Perhaps there is an element of luck we all experience. I suppose if you put yourself out there enough times, you’ll have some good results and some bad. But it’s hard to raise a family or pay bills on luck alone.

The Cycles of Art Sales

Art sales do ebb and flow based on economic conditions. Dozens of artists pine for the good old days before 2008, when they couldn’t paint enough and their incomes were soaring. Then it dried up for most of them, and for many galleries. With the simultaneous growth of online shopping, it was the perfect storm.

There Is No Such Thing as Luck

Dan Kennedy, a marketing guru I follow, once said that there is no such thing as luck in business and that though some may accidentally do something right and have some success from time to time, great success is based on understanding the principles of great marketing. He points out numerous stories of those who flourished during recessions or the Great Depression, and that those who embrace good marketing essentials can succeed in any economy.

Though I believe he is right, it crossed my mind that it might not be true in the art world, because problem “boulders” roll downhill and crush those in the way. Before 2008, people were getting huge mortgages and houses they could not afford and money to fund furnishings and paintings. When that ended, the massive purchasing dried up.

When I asked Kennedy about this, he said most people had been riding a success wave and that because they had not employed the right marketing essentials, they were vulnerable once that wave ended. I suppose that wave was luck … just riding the wave of a great economy.

Surfing When There Are No Waves

A great marketer, therefore, isn’t someone who can just ride a wave when the world is flush with cash, when people walk in the door with wads of money to spend. It’s the person who knows how to employ strategy to succeed and how to be flush with cash even when times are their worst. Plus, those who understand great marketing essentials will make considerably more during a wave.

A couple of weeks ago, when I was in Santa Fe, the dealers there mentioned that business hasn’t been this good in years — and they had big smiles on their faces, which made me believe they were not blowing smoke. I’m hearing from some artists that things are getting much better, though many are still not seeing the success they want.

It’s hard to know what will happen with the U.S. economy, though all the indicators are looking very strong. It’s very possible that you, if you sell art (or anything else), may be able to surf a wave again.

Artists Ready for Anything

Yet if I can prepare artists (or others) to catch the wave when it’s strong, and to keep riding high when things are horrific, then I will have prepared them for anything. Because we all have to survive no matter what the economy is doing, and you should never have to be vulnerable again. You see, there are always people buying art, even when the economy is bad. There are just fewer of them, and it’s important to be one of the artists those few are buying.

A wise mentor, my dad (who turned 91 last week), reminds me constantly that you shouldn’t increase your lifestyle spending when times are good because you may need that cash when times change. But you should also use those times when you’re flush with cash to build your knowledge and awareness.

A War Chest for the Unexpected

It reminds me that artists who ride the wave will gain a great advantage by keeping a war chest of ad dollars that will help them capture art market spending when others are unable to do so. I once wrote about a gallery that was built during a recession because of this principle.

But … all the cash in the world is of no value to those who don’t know how to use the essential tools of marketing. It seems to me that we are doing a lovely job of training thousands of highly accomplished artists in schools and ateliers today, yet few, if any, are teaching marketing essentials. Frankly, few professions have the vision to teach these business essentials. Even doctors get great training but stumble when they try to go out on their own because no one ever teaches them how to run a business. Artists who are selling art are running a business, though few like to admit that. Anyone who is self-employed in any craft is running a business.

My Struggle to Learn Marketing

Some people think that marketing comes naturally to me, and that I have a “talent” for marketing, but that isn’t true. I struggled for years because I misunderstood marketing and had to learn it by trial and error. And I didn’t like it; I would rather have been doing something else. Though I had some great mentors in marketing, it was not until I flicked the switch in my head that I finally told myself I had to master the art of marketing or I’d never eat consistently. Once I made that decision to begin a lifetime of getting better at marketing, I started to see a shift in my income. It was a slight shift in the beginning, but it grew over time, the better I got and the more things built on themselves.

‘Can I Help Artists with Marketing?’ I Wondered

Frankly, I had all this knowledge from decades of good and bad experience that I was putting to use for my own business. Then one day I was speaking with some artists who asked me for advice, and they told me I should be teaching artists, which frankly had never crossed my mind. I decided to try it and made a presentation at a small art event that was met with good reviews.

Then, when I launched the Plein Air Convention, I thought it might be a nice add-on for artists, but the convention already had all of the time scheduled. So I added it at 6:30 in the morning, thinking that only a few serious people who wanted to learn marketing would show up. I was blown away by the interest when most of the people at the convention showed up, and I’ve been doing Art Marketing Boot Camp since then.

Watching People Thrive

Because of the success so many artists are having as a result of attending the classes or watching the videos, I’m now encouraged that any artist can become a world-renowned brand — or at least big enough and well known enough that they dominate sales in top shows and get sought after by top galleries. Or, for those who don’t want that but just want to add an extra $1,000 a month, that too is possible. I’m trying to teach principles so artists can live their dreams and, most importantly, have consistent income even when times are bad.

How Do I Start?

The question I get most is, “Eric, I want to market, but where do I begin?” The very first thing is to have a strategy before you implement any tactics. Most people think that if they buy an ad, or do some posts on Instagram, that will build their career. But that’s like getting in the car and driving, hoping you’ll show up somewhere interesting.

Start with a Yellow Pad

The absolute first step is to define exactly, in detail, what you want your life to look like. You start with your must-have essentials, like how much to pay your bills and meet your monthly needs. And then start your dreaming process: where you want to be in two years, five years, 10 years, and for the rest of your life. This then helps you define your strategy, and from the strategy, you create specific tactics. It’s important to know the difference between strategy and tactics.

Frankly, whether you’re an artist or anything else, this is an essential first step. You have to define your life before you start shooting arrows at random targets — that won’t get you to where you want to be.

Which Kind of Artist Are You?

There are two kinds of artists … those who paint for pleasure and only for themselves, and those who sell their artwork or someday hope to. It doesn’t matter if the art is representational, abstract, installation art, photography, or selling potholders or handmade aprons on Etsy. It’s all art, and if the intent is to sell it, artists would serve themselves well to learn some of the core essentials of marketing. There are lots of people who teach it, myself included, and lots of styles and ideas, and any study of marketing and sales will benefit anyone who wants to sell something.

Prevailing Over Depression

The other essential is your mindset. Most of us tend to have a pack mentality, which means we believe what others are telling us. If all the artists out there tell us business is bad, nothing is selling, the world of art is coming to an end, we tend to believe it. A young man named Kellogg heard all of those things as he was starting his new company when the Great Depression hit. Had he listened and given up, his family would not be reaping the rewards of decades of dominance in the cereal category. You have to be an independent thinker and believe there is always someone who will buy your art, no matter how grim things look. With that mindset, you won’t stop trying. Though it won’t be as easy as when you’re riding a wave, and though you do have to work harder during lean times, you will prevail. But the time to learn about marketing is before things get bad.

It’s Horrible. No, It’s Wonderful

In just the last two weeks I’ve talked to several artists. Some of them told me how awful business is, how they are not selling, how they are having trouble surviving, and how every artist they know is experiencing the same thing. Others I spoke to in the same week told me that their art sales are booming, that it’s better than it’s ever been, even better than before 2008, and that all their friends are experiencing the same thing.

The optimists were not artists who were “better.” Almost everyone who told me one or the other of these things was a high-quality artist, and some were in the same styles or genres of art and the same regions.

Making 2018 Soar

Since we’re still early in the year, there is ample time to impact your success in 2018 and beyond. Start with your mindset, move to your needs, then start to focus on your dreams, and define what you want the rest of your life to look like … whether you’re young or old. Then study like a madman … others who know marketing can save you decades of experimentation and pain. A few hours invested to watch a video or read a book once in a while can help you take control.

I’ve Changed My Mind

When I was a younger man, I used to think that if you dream it, it will come true. Though I still believe mindset is the most important starting point, I have realized that the ship doesn’t move unless you put coal in the furnace, and unless you learn to steer it, it will just drift and you’ll go in whatever directions the waves push you. You have to have a destination and a chart to get you there, and you have to always be prepared for course correction in the times you get off course.

Jumping in Head First

In the last five years I’ve seen a massive change in my own life because I immersed myself in new learning in the areas I felt I needed to master in order to accomplish my dreams (most of which are not financial in themselves but require money to accomplish, such as the museum I want to build). You can become a master at anything with about two years of intense study.

Five years ago I started buying every course I could get my hands on or could afford. I started reading every book I could find on the subjects I wanted to master. I read four books over the Christmas break, and usually about two or three a month. I listen to probably 20 podcasts in most months, and I attend probably three or four educational events a year. Though I’d rather sit around and hope that things will happen, and though I’d rather not spend money I often can’t afford to spend, and time I can’t afford to spend, I know the necessity of immersion when I want to learn and master new things.

I don’t want to be so presumptions as to tell you what you need to learn, or what is important for you in your life. Only you know those answers. But I do know a lot of people who know what they want but don’t know how to get there, who get frozen with fear.

Little Bitty Steps

Big goals are overwhelming. Tony Robbins would say to start small. Rather than saying “I need to lose 30 pounds,” set a smaller, less overwhelming goal, like “I’m going to take a walk every day.” This is true for all goals. Rather than saying you want to be known at the level of a famous artist like Joe McGurl, which would be overwhelming to consider, start out by telling yourself “I’m going to study one hour a week.” Then do something like read a book, watch a video, or paint one extra hour.

Repetition Not Only Sells Products, It Sells Your Brain

I honestly can’t say that you or I will become exactly what we dream. But I can say that if you shoot for it, you and I will get further ahead than we are now, and any progress is better than no progress. I do believe that if you tell yourself something over and over, you will start out doubting it, then will begin doubting it less and start seeing indicators that it might be possible, and if you keep telling yourself it’s going to happen, your subconscious mind starts leading you in that direction. I have found this to be true in my own life, and I know lots of others who tell me it’s happened to them.

Woohoo! I Get to Buy Something Cool!

The greatest satisfaction of my entire life, other than my family, has been coaching artists, teaching them the principles of marketing, and seeing their lives change. Just a week or so ago I sent out a note about an artist who followed something I created and exceeded her annual goals because of it, and bought a new truck. When I called her she told me, “I did not believe it would work, but I was desperate to make something work and thought, what do I have to lose?”

Are You Sick Enough to Make Changes Yet?

I want you to have exactly the life you imagine, and I have belief in you, no matter how horrible your circumstances were when you grew up or what they are now. I know that when things get bad enough and you get sick enough of those circumstances, and when you decide to change your story and move in a new direction, you will get there. The only thing it requires is determination to start down a new path, strong desire to get to where you really want to be, a strong, motivating reason that the new life you dream of will accomplish something important in your eyes, and taking action, which involves learning and taking some baby steps every day.

Not only do I want you to live your passion, your dream, I want you to be ready to ride this coming big wave, and to be able to thrive when the wave ends and economic downturns occur. Because it’s as predictable as the sunset.

What is one baby step you will take toward defining your dreams?

What one thing can you do today … right now …  to move you in the right direction?

What one little thing can you do every day for just five minutes that will move you toward your dream?

What is one thing you can watch or read to help move you forward?

Baby steps, my friends. Baby steps. Because babies grow into adults and do great things, and I know that is deep inside of you.

I’m here to help, if I can.

Eric Rhoads

PS: A couple of months back I wrote about the pressure I was getting from my family to get a dog. Yesterday we adopted Tucker, an 11-year-old terrier who is cute as a button and had to leave his home because he did not get along with a new baby. Our family is filled with joy over this new family member. I’ve posted some pictures on my Facebook page if you scroll down a bit. Though I’m restricted by Facebook by the number of friends I’m allowed, you can still follow me (I hope you will).

A tattered and worn sweatshirt that should have been thrown away years ago is warming me on this crisp morning. Though there are newer and nicer sweatshirts in the closet, there is extra cozy comfort in something old, worn, and tied to a memory. I can’t remember ever being so cold as I was that morning painting at Asilomar Beach in Monterey, California, where I bought the sweatshirt. It warmed me then as it does today.

Out on the porch this morning, it was simply too chilly, so I made my way to my little brown art studio in the woods behind my house. Decaying leaves and fallen acorns crunched under my feet as I walked through the yard, where I stopped briefly to look at the old swing my son Brady hung from a high oak branch. I flashed back to the joy on his face when he first built it and stood swinging for the first time.

A Yellow Glow

Brilliant, glowing yellow sunlight bleaches the wall and the wooden pillars holding up the old tin roof of the porch attached to my clapboard-covered studio. The red hammock next to the fireplace glows a reddish orange while it sways slightly in the breeze.

Entering my studio, I see the old 1930s Deco chair with rounded wooden arms and green and red fabric, where our models normally sit to be painted on Wednesday nights. My imaginary throne where I contemplate life and painting is about two feet off the floor.

Sounds of Silence

Silence fills the room, broken only by a “tock tock tock” that I rarely notice unless the room is this quiet. It’s an old quarter-sawn square clock, with a round face. Roman numerals share the face with the words “Standard Electric Time Company Springfield, Mass.” This old railroad station timekeeper has held up my wall for decades.

The Concept of Time

Back in the ’60s we used to ponder time, as though our young minds really understood anything about it. In that same era, a young man just four years older than me became a pop icon. And this past week on his deathbed, David Cassidy’s final words to his daughter Katie were “So much wasted time.”

The Most Profound Thing David Cassidy Said

In spite of his stardom, his recordings and concerts and fame, his last words may have been the most profound thing David Cassidy ever offered the world. We knew of him because we sang along to his songs, and it made us pay attention when we heard those succinct last words.

Far too many reminders of this temporary blip we call life have crossed my path in the past year, with too many good friends and acquaintances lost too soon. Though I never met this teen idol, he influenced the lives of millions of us when his songs became the soundtrack of our lives.

Not a Moment to Waste

In spite of the control I like to think I have by managing my mindset, my health, my diet and exercise, I’m reminded that all you and I have is this exact moment in time, and it must not be wasted.

The Cassidy quote hit me unusually hard. Rather than “I wasted so much time,” I want my final words to be, “I made valuable use of every remaining moment I was given.”

Cassidy’s daughter stated, “This will be a daily reminder for me to share my gratitude with those I love … as to never waste another minute.”

Burned by My Own Thoughts

Though none of us needs to be reminded that every moment is precious, I am reminded that I have burned far too many moments with worry, fear, anger, nervousness, wondering what others think, counting my mistakes, or absorbing negativity. Worse is spending time doing things I don’t love or things that don’t make others or myself better in some way.

Rarely do I regret a great story, movie, book, or conversation where I’ve learned something about someone else or myself.

The few regrets I do have are rooted in not listening, jumping to conclusions, reacting negatively, not approaching things with understanding or love, being critical, and just simply being selfish.

“Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves — regret for the past and fear for the future” — Fulton Oursler

Looking back with regret is of little value unless it acts as prevention for the future. I’ve squandered too many opportunities because I was frozen by fear or self-esteem issues. “What if they don’t like me? What are they inviting me for? What do they really want? They are just saying that — they couldn’t possibly really want me.”

Self-Sabotage

One day I realized that those thoughts were simply getting in my way, killing opportunity. Though they still pop into my brain every day, I try to push them out right away and simply tell myself, “That’s not me speaking, it’s my subconscious mind and my reptilian brain instincts just trying to protect me.”

Our brains, our self-esteem issues, our lack of belief in our own abilities are the roadblocks to taking advantage of every moment.

I believe the key to shedding our emotional baggage is understanding that it’s there, that it is not protecting you, it’s harming you, and that if you don’t shed it, you won’t live as fruitful a life as you deserve.

Failure Fears

For some the act of letting something stop you from doing these things is a protection mechanism because they fear failure. So, what if you do fail? Fail forward. All successful people will tell you that failure is the foundation of success. Embrace it.

Yes, you deserve to have every moment be as meaningful, wonderful, and memorable as possible. I know there are reasons you may think you are undeserving or incapable.

But if those thoughts are not serving you, it’s time to find thoughts that do serve you.

• I waste too much time on Facebook, Instagram, and e-mail. I need to spend more time talking and listening with friends and family. 
• I waste too much time watching the evil news. I need to spend more time reading and growing. 
• I waste too much time being critical of others. I need to spend more time building them up. 
• I need to spend more time seeking memories with those I will miss when they are gone. 
• I need to remember that wounds heal and that I cannot let them control me, and accept that others are doing the best that they know to do. And even if their intent was to hurt me, I will not give them that power anymore. 
• I need to break down walls and barriers to make my dreams come true, so I don’t look back wishing I had at least tried. 
• I need to seize more moments. 
• I need to throw myself more into life. 
• I need to stop letting procrastination, excuses, and negativity rule me. 
• I need to assume today is my last and that every moment needs to be my best.

Don’t waste time. It’s your biggest treasure. Maybe this is a good week to evaluate what you’re letting keep you from making every moment the life you want to live.

I leave you with the lyrics of a top David Cassidy song.

Eric

I’m sleeping
And right in the middle of a good dream
Like all at once I wake up
From something that keeps knockin’ at my brain.
Before I go insane
I hold my pillow to my head
And spring up in my bed
Screaming out the words I dread:
“I think I love you!”

This morning
I woke up with this feeling
I didn’t know how to deal with
And so I just decided to myself
I’d hide it to myself and never talk about it
And didn’t I go and shout it
When you walked into my room.

“I think I love you!”
I think I love you.
So what am I so afraid of?
I’m afraid that I’m not sure of
A love there is no cure for.

I think I love you.
Isn’t that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say
I’ve never felt this way.

I don’t know what I’m up against.
I don’t know what it’s all about.
I got so much to think about.

Hey, I think I love you,
So what am I so afraid of?
I’m afraid that I’m not sure of
A love there is no cure for.
I think I love you.
Isn’t that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say
I’ve never felt this way.

Believe me,
You really don’t have to worry.
I only want to make you happy
And if you say,
“Hey, go away,” I will
But I think better still,
I’d better stay around and love you.

Do you think I have a case?
Let me ask you to your face:
Do you think you love me?
I think I love you.
Oh, I think I love you.
Oh, I think I love you.
Oh, I think I love you.
Oh, I think I love you.
Oh, I think I love you.
Oh, I think I love you.
Oh, I think I love you.

Composed by songwriter Tony Romeo in 1970.
I Think I Love You lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Fog has kissed the long, winding driveway, wet from the dew. Yellow light saturates the giant oaks as the morning sun streaks across the low fog lingering atop the grass, making an eerie effect of yellow light hitting slightly lavender-colored fog. I’m wishing I had a camera about now because I know it won’t last long enough for me to run, get my easel, and set up to paint it. I’ll have to rely on my memory for another time. Mornings make for great paintings.

Normal Sunday mornings are quiet and filled with solitude, but this morning I sit on the front porch, having just said farewell to the last of the visiting family members who are getting an early start in hopes of beating the traffic on their long drive to a distant city.

A Big, Beaming Smile

Flashbacks of our time together bring a smile to my face … playing games around the table, sitting up late nights talking, laughter, meals together, and more laughter. And though it’s hard to see them go, knowing it may be another year before we connect, there is also a sense of relief that things will return to normal around home.

Earlier in the week I posted a challenge to friends on Facebook, suggesting they post six days of photos that represent things they are grateful for. I’m surprised at how many have done it, but most enlightening is how special it makes them feel.

Take a Turn Around

A wise mentor once told me that when you’re feeling a little down, a little like things are not going well, do an about face … turn around and look backward at where you are, compared to where you started. Suddenly things come into focus when you realize that our sometimes unsatisfied striving to do more is met with the realization that we’ve all done so much. Looking backward instead of forward is a great gratitude exercise.

Human nature, I suppose, is always wanting more, wanting to improve, to grow, to take things to the next level.

Not Good Enough

Take my art studio, for instance. It’s not good enough … or so I was thinking. After all, the dream is to one day have a tall room with giant north-facing windows and a space big enough to do 20-foot paintings, and room for more visiting painters on Wednesday nights when I paint figures. One day, I think, maybe I’ll have that ultimate studio.

Yet this week a visiting guest was telling me how wonderful my studio is and how fortunate I am to have it, and as I stopped and looked back, I realized they were right. Before moving here and converting an old pool cabana into a studio (the previous owners never built the pool), I thought back to the days when I had a small corner of the garage. I’d go out every night, winter or summer, and be either too hot or too cold, but I was grateful to have it. It was better than when I had no garage.

By the act of someone else pointing out how lucky I am, and by the act of looking in reverse, I came to the realization that I’m lucky to have what I have and that the ultimate studio isn’t necessary. Somehow this has made me feel so much more grateful.

Of course, this exercise isn’t about a studio, it’s about all things and all situations. By turning around and looking backward, I see there is so much to be grateful for. I highly recommend it.

Things Are So Much Better

I’m also grateful that when I look back, most of my circumstances have improved. I know that’s not true for all, which makes me even more grateful. And it drives me to want to help them find a way that they too can look back and see that their own circumstances have improved.

Mining for Gratitude

I’ve spoken about gratitude before. Life gets easier and is more pleasant when approached with the spirit of being grateful. Though I don’t always accomplish it, there is value in thinking about three things you’re grateful for each day before you fall asleep, and first thing when you awaken.

Since I started this process, I found I was less grumpy and stopped taking things, and people, for granted.

A Single Notification

I also, at the urging of a wise friend, started trying to find one great thing about someone I know and making a point of sending them a note to point it out to them. Not only does it make their day, it makes me feel better by making them feel better. Therefore I try to do this every day, and because of it, I start the day with the right tone … gratitude passed along.

The concept of Thanksgiving is truly a blessing. A little prayer, a little round robin around the table where people talk about what they are giving thanks for, can be powerful stuff. A chance to speak well of others, a chance to let them know how much we care, though it may not be said often enough.

I’ve realized that the gift of Thanksgiving is something I need to repeat more frequently, not just one time a year, not just on holidays.

On Friday after Thanksgiving we were all barraged with the pressure of buying gifts for others and the obligations of Christmas or Hanukkah. This will continue tomorrow on “Cyber Monday” and will be repeated constantly for the next four weeks. Yet the gift has already been given for many of us — the gift of being grateful for others and what they have done for us.

The Ghost of Thanksgiving Past

I think back to Thanksgivings past and pine for the people who once shared the table but who are no longer with us. Though I’m thankful for their too-brief time in my life, I know that one day my chair will sit empty, and it is my hope that people will one day look back on their times with me and regret that I’m no longer there.

I feel as though that won’t happen, though, unless I spend my life doing more for people and expecting nothing in return. What can I do to leave them happier, feeling better about themselves? What can I do to encourage others? What can I do to help them live their dreams? What can I do to share my gratitude for knowing them?

The secret to living is giving. It’s taken me decades of being self-centered and selfish to realize that self has nothing to do with a rich life.

How we each give is personal. And if we give to get something in return, it’s empty.

A Great Year in the Making

In the next few weeks I’ll go through my annual exercise of planning my year, setting my goals, evaluating this year and what I did well and where I failed. In that process I will set some lofty goals, but those goals are not all about financial progress. They will measure how well my team and I did in serving others. How many more homes can we build in the local rehabilitation center to help homeless people get on their feet? How many more meals can we serve? How many more people can we teach to paint, so they can find the soul of an artist? How many more can we encourage? How many can we train to market their art so they can accomplish their dreams? What can we invent, create, or get better at doing so we can amplify these efforts and touch more lives?

Though today marks the end of the Thanksgiving weekend, for me it marks the beginning of my month of planning before I enter a fresh start for a new year.

Doing More

I realize I’ve not done enough. I can do more, my team can do more, and I can be more giving, more encouraging, and find more things to be grateful for. I know I’m held to a high standard by my maker, not to earn anything, but to share what I’ve been given because I’m moved to do so.

I’d like to say that I give thanks to you because you’ve taken precious time that will never return in order to read this little note today.

I’d also like to encourage you to adopt the one thing that changed my life, which is living with a spirit of generosity and gratitude. Start by selecting ways you can remind yourself of the things you too can be grateful for. Sometimes we forget and get caught up in all of our wounds. Next, seek ways you can encourage others, and help them see how much they are appreciated. Then start focusing on what you can do for others and take baby steps every day, starting today.

You see, it all boils down to two words. Thanks and giving.

Have a great day … and relax. You deserve it.

Shivering as I stepped out of my cozy bed this morning as the sun warmed my lids, I put on my warmest and oldest sweater, a cherished gift from my father at Christmas over 30 years ago. It’s a brown, hand-knitted sweater with a Native American pattern, and real antique buffalo nickels as buttons. It’s soft, it’s warm, it’s a little baggy now, and it’s one of the few things I’d grab if there was a fire, because it’s part of a family tradition. All the members of our family have two … one brown, one blue. These will become family heirlooms because they were knitted by an artist, Charles Atwood King, in Upstate New York.

Glowing Light

This morning’s light is glowing orange as it dances across the plants and grass in the backyard and lights up the side of my studio building. I’ve painted it many times, but never captured that Sorolla look of light. I’ll keep practicing, but this morning, staying warm is my priority. I’ve made my way over to the outdoor fireplace, something that makes these mornings even more special.

Sometimes it’s the little things that mean the most. Little family traditions, little things that warm our souls … like sweaters, fireplaces, old shoes, or the photo albums we’ve not fed since digital entered our lives. I’m sure one day, once the hard drives have crashed, kids sneaking into the attic to look at the chronicle of our lives won’t be the same. I must get around to making prints, but that is so 1980s.

Home, as you know, is my center. The sound of the old wooden screen door slamming behind me, the squeak in the bathroom door I should fix, but kind of like, and the marks on the doorjamb that show each child’s height over the years.

Homeward Bound

I returned home just yesterday. Wanting to be home, I got up in New York at 3 a.m. after getting in bed at midnight, took a car to the New York airport for a 7 a.m. flight, and was home by 10. The kids were still in bed, so I was there to cook breakfast and start their day. I’ll do the same today, then board a flight out to Miami to prepare for ourFigurative Art Convention & Expo.

My 24-hour trip to New York was a complete luxury and a trip I didn’t need to make, a trip whose expense was not necessary — but there was something so special that I wanted to be a part of it, because history is so important in art.

We Are Old Photos to Come

I love old photos of artists from the 1940s (or 1840s), and I love to look back upon traditions, which is why I wanted to be at the event on Friday night celebrating the Salmagundi Club’s 100th anniversary in its Fifth Avenue location. I also knew it would be an opportunity to see all my friends and meet people I’ve always wanted to meet. It was a grand event, and you’ll read about in Fine Art Connoisseur and Fine Art Today.

Can You Say Sleepy?

My first visit to the Salmagundi Club was disturbing. I was the guest of a member, and we ate in the downstairs dining room. The walls were covered with historical paintings by members — the history as rich as it gets for a painter. Yet everyone I saw in the club seemed to be over 70.

As I looked into it, I found the membership was on the decline, and there were few activities to draw younger artists. It was my prediction that this wonderful club would die off with its remaining members.

A year later, in the same dining room, I visited with a man who had just joined the club’s board and had the same feelings about its future. He managed to step in, get beyond the politics and deep resistance to change, and slowly rebuild the club.

New Oxygen in an Old Place

Today, about 10 years later, the club has returned to its former vibrant prominence and become a venue for important art shows and activities. It was the vision of Tim Newton and his board, and key members like Roger Rossi, that brought the club back to life. Had this not happened, I’m not sure the club would have ever made it to 100 years on Fifth.

The California Art Club was going through the same thing. Great heritage, but dying a slow death. But it was saved and revitalized over 20-plus years by Elaine and Peter Adams.

Ties to a Tattered Past

My visit to the club on Friday got me thinking about the importance of being a part of something old, something with roots in the past, something that held on to deep tradition. As an artist and publisher, I want to be a part of something that artists cherished 100 years ago. I love walking through the library knowing the great artists of the past were in that room, smoking cigars and telling stories about paintings. Those same artists’ paintings fill museums today.

There is something magical about being a part of these kinds of traditions. Maybe it’s knowing that perhaps artists in the future will look back at the old pictures of us at the 100-year event, wishing they could have been alive to meet the iconic artists of our time.

Icons of the Future

We often don’t think about or realize that artists like Joe McGurl, Don Demers, John Stobart, C.W. Mundy, Quang Ho, and others, too many to mention, will be hanging in major museums (some already are) and will be the icons people look back upon and wish they could have known.

This is what drives me to do so many art instruction DVDs with interviews … it’s recording history and technique, because I wish I had video of Sargent. It’s for that reason our library of over 200 videoscontinues to sell, even videos shot almost 30 years ago. These are historic documents.

I’ve realized that linking to history is important to us all, and that each of us needs to find a way to create traditions. Someone, probably a group of a few artists over dinner or drinks, started the California Art Club and the Salmagundi Club. What can you and I start? What traditions can we be a part of?

Give some thought to traditions you are a part of and the gifts they provide, and perhaps something you can do to start traditions or fix something in need of new life.

Half-awake and walking out of my room to brew my coffee, I suddenly jumped at the sight of a frightening mask among the Halloween costumes flung over the back of the family room chairs. The kids, who attended a school party last night, need to tidy up a bit once they awaken. I think I jumped into the next room.

Days are getting shorter, mornings are dark longer, and it’s pitch black outside. The stars are still visible as I quietly make my way to the porch, trying not to awaken my wife in the room next door. The smell of coffee is filling my lungs as the glow on the horizon begins, and it soon brightens the trees with an orange light as morning officially arrives.

Signs of Halloween

Crisp air, and the scent of fall — I’m in the mood for some fresh apple cider. I’ve already started dipping into the Halloween candy (yum!). And last Sunday we made our way out to a local farm that has lots of Halloween activities — face painting, pumpkin carving, corn maze, and so on. It’s funny, the kids are teens and like to act grown up, yet they still love going there.

Football in Texas. Amen!

It’s football weather. Football in Texas is almost a religion, and since our triplets are in the marching band, we’ve been spending our Friday nights at the games to support our kids and their school. Though I’ve never been sports-minded, I have to admit I’m catching the disease. We’re pretty energized because our team is going to the playoffs, and on the way we beat a team no one has beaten in 11 years. Yay, team!

Our stadium was used in the filming of the TV show Friday Night Lights. It’s the first high school stadium I’ve seen with a jumbotron. I have to admit, it’s pretty cool, but a lot different from the rickety, rotting wooden bleachers at Homestead High School in Indiana, where I graduated.

Happy at Home

I’m grateful to be here. Though I love my travels and my responsibilities have taken me to some very interesting places lately, as Dorothy said when she clicked her ruby slippers, there really is no place like home. Yet soon, I’ll head out for a marketing class I’m taking in Orlando because I want to keep my ax sharpened.

In November I’ve got our new Figurative Art Convention & Expo (FACE) in Miami, which I’m really excited about. My two passions are plein air painting and figure/portrait painting. We’ve managed to put people together on stage who are unlikely to ever be together again.

Exciting and New

After the Miami FACE event I head straight to our Radio Forecast conference at the Harvard Club in New York, which is put on by my radio magazine (which is celebrating 25 years at the event). Then I’m off to the world famous Salmagundi Club for an event celebrating the 100th anniversary of its Fifth Avenue location.

That ends my travel for the year. Then I get to stay home with the kids for a week while mama travels to a conference. I’m sure it will be bubblegum, pizza, and cupcakes every night! (I know she reads this, and she’s always concerned about how I feed the kids.) (Smile.)

The year will wrap up with a couple more video shoots in our studios here in Austin. Then I get to stabilize for the balance of the year before the insane travel begins again.

Sometimes when I have a lot of events back to back, I don’t have time to stop and think about them until things settle down. I’m still processing the annual Radio Show convention, plus an event I held at the Wizard Academy, then the Fine Art Connoisseur art tour to Russia, my time painting in Russia, and my Fall Color Week artists’ retreat in Maine, which all came one right after the other. Thank goodness for my iPhone camera so I can remember where I was last week!

Eavesdropping

Recently at Fall Color Week I was painting next to Barbara Tapp, an amazing watercolor painter from Berkeley, California (where our kids were born). While we were standing there, she struck up a conversation with a couple visiting the area, heard about how the man had grown up nearby, had been gone for most of his life, and finally came back for a visit. The place, Schoodic Point, was just as he had remembered it.

I’m listening to the conversation when Barbara says to the couple, “My painting will be done in about half an hour. If you’ll come back then, I’d like to give it to you. Would you like to have it?”

The couple was deeply touched. “You would do that for us?” Barbara explained that because they had such a deep connection with the area, the painting would be a nice reminder of their old home, and it would be a pleasure to give it away.

She finished the painting, signed it, put it in a nice matte, and gave it to them when they returned. Though they offered to pay her for it, she insisted that it would be her gift to them and that their joy was payment enough.

The Story of Giveaways

Later that evening, during announcements, I asked Barbara to come up and tell the story, and I learned that her goal is to help the world by giving one painting away each day. She has already given away dozens and had stories of others during Fall Color Week in Maine.

Each story was touching.

Well, the next day, this trend had caught on. Rick Wilson and I painted, with permission, on a farm with an amazing view, and the owner was very engaged with what we were doing. But she mentioned that people often stop, walk on her property without her permission to take pictures, and some set up and paint without permission. She was thrilled that we had asked. So Rick said, “When this painting is finished, I’d like you to have it so you know not all artists are going to walk on to your property without permission.” She was so excited that I ended up giving her my painting, too.

Though neither of us liked the idea of giving away a painting we wanted to keep, we both felt very special about making an old woman’s day. We both went back a few days later to do another painting from the same spot, and she already had Rick’s painting framed and proudly took us in to show it hanging in her house (mine was still wet).

Others in the group also brought in stories about giving away paintings. Everyone felt great about their generosity.

Hmm. Maybe We Can Use This to Our Advantage…

The marketing guy in me suggested a couple of lines to use when giving a painting away, so that value is established. I suggested one way to do it is to say, “I’d like you to have this. I normally sell them for $2,500 in my gallery. I want you to have it because I believe every home should have original artwork, and because (your reason here).” Then you reinforce that all paintings are not free or cheap, and that original artwork is a good thing.

Before we knew it, everyone was giving away paintings and had stories about special connections with people. Barbara reports that she hears from most people she’s given paintings, and she’s enriched her life with new friends, visits from people she has met, and a feeling that she is doing something special to help others through her art.

Barbara Tapp may have started a trend.

A Spirit of Generosity

What if we all tried this? What if we all lived with a spirit of generosity? What impact would we have on the world? And how would it affect people getting excited about owning more original art?

Though a giveaway doesn’t have to be every day, what if when you’re out, you do a small piece, knowing that you may encounter someone who needs to have their day lifted, or to have a special memory?

Everything in life cannot be about selling. If you do artwork, photography, something else … why not try it?

My dad, an accomplished photographer, takes a large matted photo with him to every dinner party, every doctor visit, every special event. It enriches his experience with others and makes them feel special.

Giving Creates Gifts to Yourself

Though some will be critical and think giving things away will hurt their sales, nothing could be further from the truth. Giving always results in other benefits more valuable than a sale. Barbara reports some recipients have actually gone to her website to buy something, though that is not her intent.

Is Generosity in Your Future?

What can you do to live generously today? It may not be about a painting, or even a physical gift at all. It may be about listening or helping or just reaching out to someone who needs an ear.

One generous person I got to know on our first Cuba trip is artist Nancie King Mertz, who stayed in the World Famous Artists’ Cabin this week at our house to film a couple of amazing pastel art instruction videos. We were thrilled to get to know her better and experience her generosity.

It’s my wish that generosity will impact your day today. And be overly generous with the candy this Halloween 🙂

Vibrant red-orange light was about ready to peek over the Atlantic Ocean. Giant granite rocks and rows of majestic pines were silhouetted against the golden sunrise while the upper part of the sky was a deep indigo blue with a single star glowing in the distance.

A gentle mist dampened the grass on this almost-freezing morning, and I was rubbing my hands together to keep them warm. Overhead a bald eagle spread her massive wings and squeaked as if to let me know I was in her space.

My headlamp was glowing on my easel in the pre-sunrise darkness as I hurriedly laid in my shapes with paint, knowing I’ll have little more than three minutes to capture the rapidly moving colors of sunrise.

This morning I’m back in Texas, looking out over my backyard’s own beautiful light, but remembering that just two mornings ago, I was up at 5 a.m. to experience the sunrise on Schoodic Point in Acadia National Park.

Lingering memories are going through my head as I return to reality from my little artists’ retreat where about 60 of us gathered to paint for a week that passed far too quickly.

Memories of lobster, caught that morning by a local fisherman, on our last night together. Memories of a room filled with probably 700 paintings we produced during our week. Memories of endless laughter, silly jokes, dancing and singing to nightly music, and painting portraits on several nights.

Up early each day, we had breakfast together, then set out hopeful of finding a masterpiece or two. Some produced as many as four or five paintings a day, others just one or two, each representing an amazing spot and a memory of that time painting with new and old friends.

Last Sunday I awoke in that place; I had already done a touch of painting and begun developing the friendships that deepened over the week.

A show of upraised hands filled the room when I asked on Friday, our closing morning, how many had developed new and deep friendships that could last a lifetime, though most of these people had never before met.

Of course, there were also many returning “regulars” who connected with friends established in the last two years of Fall Color Week. But everyone, including myself, made new friends.

It was a feeling of mixed blessing. A week of painting was enough, and the anticipation of returning to my family was a joy. Yet sadness filled my heart and those of people around me, thinking of this special week of special moments.

Goodbyes were tearful. Hugs were heartfelt. Some didn’t want to let go, and one woman started crying on my shoulder, knowing she had escaped a difficult time in her life and a looming divorce, and grateful for a chance to occupy her mind with painting and chats with friends for a week away.

Another said, with tear-filled eyes, that last year she had gone home to an ill husband and this year would be returning to an empty house. Still others were just sad to leave those who had been their roommates and friends during this week of escape from their busy lives.

Gushing thank yous pump up my ego, but make me feel that for most, this little break from reality was the medicine they needed. I feel grateful to be placed in a position where I can provide such a gift to others.

It’s a special moment in time, and one that won’t last forever. Though there will be future events (God willing), each one is special, each unique, each serving a purpose.

So many coincidences occurred, it’s as though they were meant to be. One artist told a story of a painting mistakenly sold twice by her gallery and never delivered to the first buyer, whose name she never knew. The artist and original buyer, comparing notes, found one another at this event, though they live far apart.

Others found connections in common interests, and in one case, two people turned out to be distant relatives. All brought together “by accident” at a random event for painters.

Last week I talked about rewarding yourself by getting away. This week, I feel a sense of deep meaning because so many people had what they said was the experience of a lifetime. That encourages me to make sure I’m doing all I can for these folks, my cherished readers and friends.

I want to do more, invent more ideas, put people together in new ways, because it’s important work. Sometimes I feel I can’t do enough, fast enough. Yet it needs to be done. There truly is so little time.

Nothing in my career has given me more gratification, more satisfaction, more joy, than bringing artists together and giving them these experiences of a lifetime. It’s a reminder that we all need things like this, and we all have special gifts that need to be shared.

To those who spent the week with me in Maine, my heart aches missing each of you, yet I have a beaming smile on my face as I replay moments from the week.

To those not there: Find something, anything, where you can give to others. I learned this week that there are a lot of hearts in need of someone to step in on their behalf, and we can each play that role.

Enjoy your week.