Although I am back in the cool, gray North Country, the vivid explosions of color in San Antonio remain on my mind. After returning from San Antonio and then plunging right back in to long and busy work days, all I could pretty much manage was catching up on sleep and doing laundry. But now that I'm recovered, I feel the need to process my experience on the canvas. 

As I mentioned in my last post, I spent some formative years in San Antonio. A lot of it is a blur that I think my dear brain has blocked out. But what I do remember vividly are the art education experiences that, on pain of sounding clichéd, were life-changing. 

In particular, through an art contest that I entered with other kids from my high school art class, I won a scholarship to the Western Art Experience, which was somehow involved with the San Antonio Rodeo and the Museum of Western Art. I spent two weeks during the summer in Kerrville, Texas, and was introduced to oil painting and sculpture — a week of each. We also got to visit a foundry and the studios of famous artists, one of whom I think was wildlife artist Ken Carlson. One day, I told myself, I would have as nice a studio as theirs. When my ship comes in, everyone is welcome to visit!

Now, looking back at what I did during that two weeks, I'm kind of amazed, and a little frustrated, too, because it feels like I had tremendous beginner's luck, and then spend years bumbling around trying to recreate it. Sigh ... But think of that — one week of oil painting, and I've been hooked ever since. And even odder, to have the  Western art connection: a summer camp at a museum dedicated to living artists who follow in the tradition of Frederic Remington, and now, to live in an obscure corner of New York that is home to the Frederic Remington Art Museum!  

I was obviously very excited about finding the Southwest School of Art, where I had taken a class. All I remember is painting with lipstick. Very modern ... I was also very excited that the awesome art store I frequented, Herweck's, is still there. So. Many. Art. Supplies. 

Another wonderful haven I remember is the McNay Art Museum. This little gem has an impressive collection, thanks to Jessie Marion Koogler McNay and her patronage off the arts. On the last day of my conference, I cut out on the closing ceremonies and took a taxi to the McNay, which looked eerily different yet familiar. It even smelled the same, even though I couldn't tell you what it smells like now, only that as soon as I walked in I remembered it.

Pieces from the McNay. (Click for more info.)

Some contemporary pieces. 

And this Cadmus, whom I'm not really into, but I liked the blurb: What I Believe, Tempera on panel, 1947-48

Paul Cadmus presents the arts as beacons of good against the violence of war. The painting's title was taken from English Humanist E. M. Forster's 1938 essay "What I believe," which called for goodness and tolerance to prevail over violence and cruelty. In the foreground, Cadmus used the faces of his friends and family, artists in their own rights, as allegorical figures representing art, music, literature, and architecture.

I'm currently working on a piece that recalls the finery of Fiesta, but frustratingly, it is on hold while life and work intervene. But I will make that the focus of my next post. For now, all you need to know is that it's painted on shimmery gold so the Fiesta Flair will shine through!