An Artist Muses

  As some of you may already know (since I reference it all the time in my art bio), for more than 30 years I worked in the film and television business.  I was an editor turned director, so my career, which started in the dark, vampiric world of the edit suites eventually moved me out into the bright lights of the studio floor.  Shoot days are long, intensive ordeals.  As a director, you literally have to make a thousand decisions, from lighting and wardrobe, to the actor's performances and which camera position best captures them.  Indeed, every take laid down is a decision; do we do another one, or do we move on? Long and grueling as they may have sometimes been, I look back with great fondness upon my days on set.  Shooting crews for the most part are freelance, but over time you build up a steady cast of regulars, and often arriving on set was like the start of an overdue reunion.  And laughs, certainly on any set I ever helmed, were mandatory.  Otherwise tensions could easily

  It all started innocently enough.  For the landmark birthday of a good friend of mine, I painted a picture of a female squirrel headed south for the winter in her pink convertible (she has a bit of a squirrel obsession, and I have to say I can relate).  It was a tiny little painting, no more than about 8 x 10.  If I'm going to gift someone with a piece of art, I like to keep it on the smaller size, so that there isn't a three foot by four foot painting of a squirrel driving a pink convertible destroying the Feng Shui of their minimalist living room.   My sister Jocelyn saw what I had done and liked the idea enough to commission her own small painting, to become a gift to the newborn child of a relative.  It was her concept for the squirrel to be piloting a vintage World War One Sopwith Camel airplane (the type made famous by Snoopy in his imaginary dogfights with the Red Baron).   Pleased enough with my effort, Joss, who is a long-time supporter of the arts, especially painte