by Henry Vermillion

Ah! For the life of an artist! A bit, or very, romantic. A life given meaning by creating beautiful paintings, sculptures. Free from the daily grind, from the rat race. Expressing one's deepest feelings! The tragedy, as well as the glory of life!

Of course, that's an old-fashioned notion, more 19th century than 20th. Artists of today are unburdened by such ideas. They know how to build a solid platform on the Internet: Facebook, Instagram, Etsy, e Bay, Zazzie, Fiverr. These days, an artist is expected to be a savvy marketer.

Call me old fashioned.

Living in San Miguel, as most of us do, I find the situation a bit strange. The place is a magnet for artists and arty folks. At my current co-op gallery (Galería Blue Moon, on Stirling Dickinson) half of the visitors are artists looking for a space to show their work. The other half, non-painters, tend to be photographers, writers, Theosophists, or nice New Age folks, most of whom who are trying to eliminate much of the stuff they have accumulated, not collect art. Nice folks, bless 'em, but I'd like to see more middle-aged retired captains of industry who know something about art and are collectors. I've heard there are some around, but the only ones I've actually seen personally were in the City Market buying cuts of expensive meat and good whiskey.

But enough grousing. Why did I become a serious painter? It's all because of Joy Lynne Robinson.

I discovered I had a talent for drawing when I was in the sixth grade. I sat down to copy a newspaper photograph of President Harry Truman. Wow! It was easy! It was fun! And my drawing looked just like him, shading and all. Joy Lynne was the cutest, most vivacious girl in the class. To impress her, I gave her my new piece of art. As you might guess, she was not in the least impressed. Two years later, I gave her my football letter jacket—a serious matter—and, many years later, at a class reunion, she didn't even remember my gift.

In any case, my path to Art began with that drawing of Harry Truman.

The urge to decorate is innate and necessary to us humans, but to me, even serious abstract painting tends to be just a loftier breed of decoration, beautiful and interesting though it often is. We humans are self -centered. We crave faces and figures---TV, cinema, People or Vanity Fair Magazines. Or even in Degas or Andy Warhol pictures. Figurative work, which is expressive and narrative, suits me best.

******

Henry Vermillion was born in El Paso, and grew up in small towns in Texas and New Mexico. He graduated from the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, with degrees in English literature and biology. He studied Social Work in the MSW program at the University of Texas in Austin.

In November of 1992, Henry, his wife Britt Zaist, and five other painters opened the co-op Galeriía Izamal, which, until its closing in January of 2022, was San Miguel's oldest art gallery.

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