Pixel Dance

Writing is an art. It is a craft, and an art. You learn the rules – but to tell the story, to evoke the emotion, to change the heart – that’s an art. One of my favorite writers is also one of my dear friends. Matt Kaufman writes for Citizen magazine, and Boundless Webzine, and we’ve worked together for almost 10 years. What I really like about his style is that I feel smart, instead of thinking that he’s smart, after reading his work. He’s drawn me into his process, as a co-laborer, rather than telling me things. It’s not easy to do, but he is eloquent and compassionate toward his reader. Here’s what he says about his process:

I’ve been writing professionally for a couple of decades now. I’ve been writing unprofessionally a lot longer. (Those who know me, insert your jokes here.)

I started with letters to the editor of my local paper when I was 16, and quickly found the 250-word limit too confining for a guy who had as much to say as I did. (Being 16, I knew so much I had to share with the world!) A few years later I was co-founding a conservative campus paper, championing what we then called The Reagan Revolution. Ah, those heady days of youth….

To make a long story short, before it’s too late: I wove my way through a few conservative writing outlets as opportunities arose, and started working for Focus on the Family in 1997, first working with Citizen magazine, then adding work for Boundless Webzine when it was launched the following year. I’ve been at it for those same outlets ever since, though I went freelance in 2003 and returned the next year to my hometown of Urbana, Illinois. (Go Illini!)

My specialty: At present, I write in several formats, from doing commentary for Boundless to book reviews and “Whee the People” for Citizen.

My Boundless work is the area where I get to express myself on the widest variety of topics, and to use a personal, sometimes first-person voice. But I enjoy working in all these formats, and I want to say something about “Whee” in particular.

“Whee,” for those who don’t know, is the brief, punchy-commentary section of the magazine, often with a light touch, and including illustrations by Dave Clegg and Travis Foster. Here I get one of my great treats every month: Working with Sherri to brainstorm art ideas, then watching Dave and Travis execute it with their own creative touch and flair. This is a joy all around, sparking creativity working with Sherri, who really is one of the dearest people I’ve ever known. And I’m not just saying that to flatter Sherri ‘cause she’s the absolute ruler of this Blog universe. Together we come up with concepts neither one of us would have gotten separately. Creatively, we really bring out the best in each other.

You can find my Boundless columns at www.boundless.org.

Philosophy of art and life? Strangely for a writer, I never thought to put it in words. Let’s try this: Speak the truths that need to be spoken. The challenge is in discerning what those truths are, and how to speak them. But don’t shrink from the challenge: Ask God for the fortitude and the wisdom to take it on.

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I wonder if all of us should be doing what we did in those early years, like writing letters to the editor – those things we gravitated to before we knew what we were supposed to want for our lives. What was it for you? For me, I was writing songs like “Sunshiny Days” in the 3rd grade. Not so sure there’s a market for it, but, hey. Thank you, Matt. I appreciate your contributions to the mag and the blog. And your friendship is gold to me. You’re a better friend than you are a writer.

Most of our days melt away, not really leaving memorable moments, watershed monuments. And then, there are those days that burn like branding irons into our skull. The feelings, the lessons are going to stick. I had the privilege of that experience this last weekend.

I’m currently in the 5th year of a 6-month journey of self-evaluation. I originally began with a sense that I had a few things to clean up in my innards – a little bit of a dirty cup on the inside. Well, be careful what you dig for. The vastness, intensity and array of epiphanies I’ve encountered has blown me away. And even more mind-blowing is my new sense that this long, deep journey is now complete. And in the quintessential “didn’t see that coming” kind of way.

Some of you know I’m a Christian, and I take that pretty seriously. I have a constant conversation going with God most of the time, some of which consists of what pants to wear. But there are those moments when you just know He’s paying attention. And I apparently hit the heavenly radar.

This past spring, one of my dear friend’s daughters died of adrenal cancer. She was 27. One morning just a few days after the funeral my eyes opened with a start as this line went through my head: “Megan’s gone. You’re not.” And so I felt compelled to live a better life, honor Megan by doing what was in my heart. I enrolled in three conferences for the summer. Each topic was one of those things tucked in the back pocket, that I was always going to do later. Learning fiction. Eating disorders. Songwriting. And so I embarked on this journey to explore my talents – to pour myself into being all I could be. Only a strange thing happened on the way to the talent agent – it seemed that instead of embracing, I was giving each thing up. My sense was each time I was supposed to embrace, then surrender. So I did.

Well, Saturday was the end of my conferences, and the last session was about saying yes to your art. They gave away small blank canvasses that would sit in the palm of your hand. And I took mine, happy for the message, feeling pretty fine. That night, we went to church. As we were finishing the last song of the night, preparing to leave, I had this sense that the work I’d been doing is now finished, and that I am now the blank canvas that God has been waiting for. The canvas wasn’t for me – it was me.

I realized that these back-pocket dreams were keeping me from putting my hope in the right place. I was using them to keep from depending on God. And when I gave the last one up, it was like I got a “good job” from the heavens. I can’t explain it – it’s not like it happens all of the time. But I just knew I had done it. And in a pile of tears and nasty Kleenexes, I was gloriously clean. Not perfect, not finished, but ready for the next layer of color, light and texture.

I’m not sure where a blank canvas goes from here. But I can’t wait to see what He does.

By the way, the wonderful conferences I attended were part of the Glen Eyrie conference center. It’s a beautiful 100-year-old castle in Colorado Springs. They have conferences almost every weekend, on a variety of topics. They are open to all, and the list can be perused at www.gleneyrie.com. It is the best kept secret around, and you won’t believe the big horn sheep that roam by, or the red rocks and waterfall canyons that are free for the basking. The prices are also generally fair, and I have found it to be worth every cent, every moment. I hope you’ll find something that suits you. If you have, or if you do, please comment. We’d all love to hear about it.

Many of you know I design Citizen magazine. I love it, and for me the best part, hands down, is meeting and connecting with such talented people. I work with incredible illustrators, photographers, writers, editors – people who are lovely and talented, and it’s a privilege to be in their wake. Because I think they are such great people, I want to introduce you to them. Up at bat is my dear friend, Tom Reis. I think both he and his work are delightful – each with an effortless flair. It’s so fun for me to stumble upon Reisworks in the Wall Street Journal, or even in the grocery store. Here’s a little about him, in his own words:

I’ve always loved art. My career as an illustrator really began after graduating from College in ’88. I got a full-time job as an in-house illustrator at a small Florida ad agency. I mostly painted and drew 3-point perspective house renderings from architectural plans. I moved to San Francisco a few years later to attend the San Francisco Art Institute. I really wasn’t planning on doing more commercial work, but a fellow classmate was an art director, and she helped me get jobs at her agency. After graduating, another friend at the same agency moved to New York, and helped me get work art directing at Chase Manhattan. I began illustrating full-time about 12 years ago.

My commercial work mostly involves producing airbrushed acrylic caricature editorial work, though I’ve done numerous paintings of more
serious subjects for advertising clients. I think of the caricature work as a form of portraiture–my favorite subject matter. Between
commercial work, I spend most of my time focusing on producing “fine art”–which is generally figurative.

Philosophy of art: Hmmm. It may be a depressing thought, but I think of my task like that of the boulder-roller Sisyphus. Unlike him, I never derive the satisfaction of reaching the top, though I DO enjoy the process of trying.
___

Tom is so fun, and a stop by www.thomasreis.com is worth the “research and development” time you’ll spend. It’s delightful. Thanks, Tom, for being my guinea pig – and my friend.

And, of course, www.citizenmagazine.com is the place to sign up for a subscription to Citizen. If you’re a pro-family conservative, it’s thoughtful, well-written information. Even if you’re not, you’ll be witness to the work of some very talented people. Thank you to all who have contributed over the years. I deeply appreciate it.

For my Photoshop gurus in the audience, I have a quick tip. Many of you know you can make black and white shapes and art elements into brushes. Well, I save the logos of my clients as Photoshop brushes. This allows me to quickly drop the logo onto a Web graphic, or a Photoshop file for a t-shirt or background. I still use the crisp Illustrator file for things like cmyk printing, but it’s great for lower-res functions. Here’s how:

1. Open a Photoshop document and place the logo.
2. Select with the marquee, and go to Edit>Define Brush Preset. It’s now in your brushes palette. You can change the size of the brush, and therefore the size of the logo, at the top of the palette.

See? Easy. And I feel smart.

Speaking of smart Photoshop people, I love the geniuses at the NAPP – the National Association of Photoshop Professionals. I’m an NAPP member, and love their training. Even if you don’t join, visiting photoshopusertv.com, or layersmagazine.com (covering all Adobe products) is well worth your time. Each has a weekly 30 minute “tv” program with tips, Web site references and product information – free for the watching.The NAPP also hosts two conferences a year – one in Orlando, the other in Las Vegas. You train with the best in the business – photo retouchers, illustrators, photographers. Darryl was so impressed with the food styling class, we’re still styling our macaroni at dinner. Even if you just dabble, it’s great information. Those are my tips for the week.

I’m looking forward to Friday, when I will begin highlighting my favorite artist friends. You won’t want to miss it. Thanks for swinging by.

I’m always fascinated with the artist’s mind. Do they care if anyone sees the creation? Do they realize it’s art while they are creating it? What part of it is actually the art? If you happen to visit me in late July, I will usually be in my back yard. And I’m there with about five hummingbirds. I’ve planned the kind of garden that hopefully feels like Eden to these wandering dancers, and hopefully some butterflies, bees, and a bluebird, if I’m so lucky. I love to lure them into my canvas – where I can stalk them for a photo, or stand still and let them flit around me. They themselves are like an artist’s brush, or a conductor’s wand, painting a melody over the terrain of flowers, selecting each one as if it’s the perfect note, or just the right color. And I wonder if they know how majestic they are. I wonder if they make the art, they are the art, or if in my imagination, I am in fact the artist, conjuring up story and dance to follow their lead. In any case, I’m glad they’ve decided to allow me the privilege of witnessing their artistry.

For the gardeners in my midst – and many of you know of my obsession – the “Firecracker Penstemon” is pure bliss on the Hummingbird’s tongue. The plant spreads wildly if you let the seeds die and drop. And it grows faithfully – although not always returning to the same spot for long. It’s great for my Zone 5, dry, windy climate, and I highly recommend it. And who doesn’t want to tell everyone they have a “Firecracker’ in their yard.

Art. Life. Love.