This posting is going to go ALL over the place. But there's a story in there ... I think.
A few months ago, the terrorist group ISIS blew up some of the most amazing archeological treasures from the ancient city of Nimrud. These treasures were priceless, and as an artist, quite haunting to look at. The only thing we have to remember them, are the stories that were gleaned while they were intact, and the photographs that were taken. Everything else ... gone.
I can’t imagine what that must be like - to create a priceless treasure, only to have it destroyed by a religious fanatic.
Throughout the years, I’ve created hundreds of works of art, and for the most part, am very generous with it. I’ve sold thousands of dollars in art sales, and at the same time, I’ve given pieces away - ranging from free portraits, to landscapes, you name it. My father was always supportive of my work but at the same time, he could be discouraging. Like most people who are not artists, he told me (along with just about every adult in my life - pastor and guidance counselors included) that you can’t make a living as an artist. You have to go and get a job and hopefully you’ll become famous. You make your money as an artist after you’re dead.
Kinda sad ...
When I first got out of the Army, most of my early professional work was either religious, political, or military related. Rarely was it a basic landscape or something serene; there was always a story behind it. I couldn’t just paint or draw because I had talent, each piece had to have something behind it that made it worthwhile to look at.
Fast forward a few years ...
As much as my father and mother adored my artwork, they never really took care of it. We had roaches growing up, and many of my pieces were destroyed because of roach shit. Serious. Even now, when I go visit my mom, any pieces on her wall have some marring blemish on it. Some have creases, some aren’t framed ... it’s sad to look at. My father in law however, always took care of my work. When I’d send it to him, he’d immediately frame it. He had his garage and a room in his house with my work displayed. Even though he and I never really got along, I knew that he loved my art. He praised it and there was a sense of pride when I’d go to his house. My artwork ... damn ... made me smile.
My favorite movie of all time is the 1956 ‘The Ten Commandments’ with Charlton Heston and Yul Bryner. That’s in my opinion, where they should’ve refrained from any future remakes - it’s done. Leave it alone. Don’t remake it anymore. It’s like Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’ ... leave it alone. You’ll only embarrass yourself if you try. Remake a different song. Please.
The reason I bring that movie up is because there’s a scene where Sethi is talking to his advisors about who should take over the kingdom of Egypt upon his passing. His advisors ask him, “who else, but the son of your body?”
His response? “The man best able to rule Egypt will follow me. I owe that to my fathers, not to my sons.”
That line has always had an impact on me. Many leaders have a desire for their family to run their business or empire after they pass on, and there’s nothing wrong with that. However, many businesses and empires have failed because the family - usually the sons - have no idea how to continue on in the legacy of their father. Dad was a brilliant businessman, so son must be also, right? I mean, it’s good in theory, but often times, never the case. A good example is Walmart. Sam Walton came up with a brilliant business, but after his passing, the company, in my opinion, is going down the tubes. Customer Service - which Sam Walton was praised for - is god awful. I avoid Walmart like the plague and go there as a last resort.
The reason I bring all this up is because when I pass on, I know that the art I have, will need to go to someone. If I don’t leave it to someone in my Will, the state comes in and can do whatever they’d like with it. Why not my children? They’re too young, and I’m not sure they’d know how to best handle it. I guess I can leave it in a trust or in storage until they’re 30. However, upon my passing, my father was the last person I wanted to get my art. I knew that, even though he admired it, he and my mom wouldn’t know how to preserve it, or even care enough to do so.
So I spoke with my father in law, and asked if my wife and I were to pass suddenly, if he’d take all my artwork. He was more than happy to. Ecstatic to say the least. There was a sense of relief that, if I died, he’d be there to take over and preserve my artwork. I have a shit ton of art supplies that, I know my youngest would get a kick out of. There ... that’s settled.
Or so I thought.
