More Early 70's
Page 5
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I remember this as a big painting, some four feet. I have no idea what happened to it. Some guy in the mountains tried to capture the spendor, getting some of the truth, but missing a lot. This one too. Three foot dimensions. A cartoonish representation of the glorious scene.
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The painting above is titled, Lady's Dream. Up front it's a woman sleeping, but upon closer scrutiny you can see that half of her face is a man leaning in kissing her on the lips. And then, if you take it further you'll see that it's a lady kissing a frog. You have to use a good bit of imagination to see all this. Now, I really don't remember setting out to portray such a "deep" meaning, I was just trying to paint a Picasoid picture of a lady sitting. It must have gurgled up from the old frog prince fairy tale. I really don't remember what I called the above painting, but it could be called Clown at Work. It's not too clear because I don't have a good photograph of it, but I'll tell you that he's stopped to ponder his existance while having to shovel up piles of animal droppings. Certainly it represents how I feel about holding a job and must have felt back in those days. Working for a living seems such a waste of time but if one doesn't do it one doesn't live. Anyway, I've spent a lot of productive time and energy "working for the man" when I wanted to be dreaming around with a canvas. Was then. Am now.
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Haloed Man. See where Picaso was a major factor?
Still Life. I was actually indulging in all the things portrayed.
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Bound to Ground
Rock Soul
So I was in a show, arts and crafts, on some vacant lot on the north shore of Tahoe. I built my stand and spent the whole weekend there. I remember so well, I sold a little vertical painting of golden aspens with their white bark speckled with black.....$13.75. They talked me down to thirteen seventy five. "Artists are born to suffer and cry in the night." Thurber. That day people passed me by and got goo goo over macramé owls and ceramic ashtrays.
Around the time I started college or soon thereafter, people on the nice side of town hired me to paint a portrait of their house and yard. I did a few, the first one leading to another by word of mouth. The paintings turned out nice, not cheesey Real Estate illustrations but painterly paintings of the scene using my love of contrasting color undercoat and impressionist cools and warms to create the ups and downs, fronts and backs. It was great fun to set up my easel in the chosen spot and spend some days in someone's yard. I have no pictures of those paintings, much the pity.

If I get to thinking about it I realize there are a lot of works I did that I have no record of. Somehow it must be how it feels to lose a child and never see it again. My babies! Where have you taken them?! This oil to the right, long gone, sold to someone, and no quality record of it. All I have is a blow up of this picture above taken at an outdoor show. This one is called "Clown with Cane and Monkey Named Coffee with Cream." Obviously from my love of Picasso era. Wouldn't it be great if the owner of this painting, if indeed it still is stretched on a frame and hung on a wall, saw the name of Van Horn on the lower right corner and googled me which may lead them to send me a pic taken by the new technology all clear and clean.

In 1974 I decided I'd better use my GI bill money to get a college education.
School. I lived on the north shore of Lake Tahoe, Kings Beach it was, for something like five years as a goofy long hair, odd jobbing, hiking, lounging on the rocks in the radiant mountain sunshine after swimming in that chilly, chilly water....you know, we would play in the water until we had to get out because we were shivering so bad we'd loose our coordination. But the rocks were hot and the sun, which by the way, didn't have to struggle through the lowest mile of atmosphere, would cook the chill right out of us. To mask, snorkel, and fin in those waters so cold and clear and deep that the sun rays converged far below the surface where we played.....truly bliss.

And skiing. Now, those of you who've done this know how cool it is to ride a chair up a mountain and then let gravity power your desent through the trees, the bumps, the powder. The trails, the jumps (little ones), the shutes and the bunny slopes. The glory. Snow is a glory. To shushe upon it is to put it to it's finest use except for that beauty. Each individual flake of the multiple billions that cover the slopes is a work of art that only the creator could muster up. Snow, I call it the cream of water.

But, as I was saying, I lived on the north side for some five years before I decided to stop fooling around and get some sort of an education. I wasn't about to move to some city for that so I chose the Sierra Nevada College in Incline Village, Nevada. At that time they were all about envirnmental sciences but they taught art as well. So, even though it wasn't the most prestigious art degree one could get, I persisted for four years and came out with a Bachelors of Fine Arts degree.

....Trying to Find the Right Light....INDEX....
21. To Conclude