Wednesday, November 27, 2013

We all grow up with stories- where we came from - where we live- "history of place"- and it mingles with the lives we live. I grew up where others lived before me- and I grew up in a family that hunted and fished- it wasn't about "the taking" as it was about being in nature. My Grandfather helped to restore wildlife in the 1930's-  and I learned that everything has a beginning, an end, and should be cherished. My childhood sanctuary was a hay field- I knew sunsets- and the folds in the hills like my own heart- in my home where books about the fort and village that was once there- and the artists from the east that came to paint- and I copied them with color and imagination.  ( George Catlin and Karl Bodimer). The library become another haunt- I wanted to know about the history of where we live-  I wanted to know more than the basic things taught in school. I wanted to know why things changed. A year after I painted this (1975?) I read a book by Mari Sandoz and it changed my view on the way things where in the culture of that time -history is not clear cut.( Book : Crazy Horse). The watercolor here was painted by me- I don't think I was thirteen yet when I painted it- . The paper is a blueprint for a Bridge Railing over Union Creek South Dakota- . My dad was a partner with Dave Gustafson Construction- and was apart of the Alaskan Highway and Interstate 90 construction. Once a project was over I was given free rein of the blue prints to draw and paint on. This disintegrating image is one of the few left- and I wanted to share before it's gone. ( I am 60's baby)