A World of Possibilities

16x20 Oil

I’ve been teaching myself how to paint for around 18 months now. I’ve had a few high points and a bundle of low ones. I guess this is par for the course when learning something new. Many times my brilliant photographer friend, Brian Geraths, would pop in and catch me kicking myself around my studio. “I can’t paint!” I would pretty much always complain, pointing at my easel. “Look at that train wreck.”

“Nice self-talk,” Brian invariably replied. “You’re sure to get better if that’s your belief.”

Bok! Grumble, grumble.

Then he’d smile and say, “You’re only as good as you think you are.”

Grumble.

He was right, of course.

I berate myself a lot less now, not because I paint any better, but because I know complaining is not productive. And neither is a lack of belief in myself. I know I can do this! With enough patience, passion, practice and perseverance, I can dang well do this! I taught myself how to write books, didn’t I? Same thing, new art.

There are thousands of great ideas for good novels. They’re everywhere. Just reach out and grab one — or more likely, one will grab you. When I first started writing, I didn’t believe this. I couldn’t think of one good idea, or even a junk one. But as I grew to understand storytelling, the fog cleared and a whole new world of possibilities opened up.

I named this painting “A World of Possibilities” because it reminds me of myself, wandering around on the back roads of this new artistic adventure. This particular road is in central Oregon, the one that takes you up to Mt. Bachelor, where in the winter bunny-slope skiers kick themselves around as they watch the pros effortlessly dance down the mountain. Some bunny-slopers whisper, “That’s me someday.” And others grumble. “I can’t ski! I’m a train wreck!”

As Brian says, you’re only as good as you think you are.

So grab your keys and head on out to explore your own world of possibilities.

It’s immense.