Tuesday, November 07, 2017
The Son of a Son
I am the son of an artist who is the son of two artists. I grew up in a house full of paint and clay and lenses and all sorts of things that get made into images. In his blog this week, my dad talks about how he grew up with the same thing:
I grew up with two artists as parents. Things in our house were carefully placed to look their very best. Furniture and eating utensils were moved around until they looked just right. I lived in a well designed world. It was important to my parents how things related to the space and objects around them. Snowy boots were not invited into the house and metal toys were not allowed onto the wood floors. This wasn’t always the easiest place for a naturally messy boy to grow up. Also in our home there was controlled clutter. My world included bookcases filled with art books and I could spend time in my father’s areas in the house reserved for working on both his sensible and his silly creations. There was both good design and a little chaos in my dad’s studio, his darkroom and his basement work room. These were my favorite places and I am still happiest when I am in the midst of a creative project. Being surrounded by art as a child was a gift.
It's a fascinating story (and I love the old sketches). Check out the whole thing here.
