Of course, I remember Dad as Dad. I took for granted his talent and the way he sketched, painted, and designed. As Alice mentioned in the little gallery talk, Dad was very disciplined. He retired at age 60 and then, when he wasn’t traveling, or gardening, or attending a church or civic meeting, or socializing with the family, he would retreat to his studio and paint until lunch; then back he would go for another three hour session. His passion and commitment paid off, but then that’s the way it is when we follow our bliss. To be good at anything, you have to want to practice, practice, practice, and then you have to do it.
Dad could be very gregarious but he also sought solitude. Artists need time alone. It’s part of the process. What we see is the final product, not all that private, solitary time, and yes, even secret time. I think of Dad sitting in a chair out in the back woods, in what he referred to as his perch. Um, he had his own version of a cottage by the sea. I’m more like him that I ever imagined.