I’m color blind.
An ophthalmologist gave me a test and concluded that my
problems lie in the fact that I was over sensitive to red. If there was any red there it would wash out
the other colors. He said, “You must really see a lawn weirdly.” I see a green lawn the way I’ve always seen
it. Seems normal to me. I do remember that when I started driving
that the red or yellow traffic lights seemed indistinguishable. Green was barely distinguishable. The position of the light – top, middle,
bottom – was more important than the actually color. Apparently, later, the
powers-that-be, realized this and subtracted the amount of red in the yellow
and green. I have no trouble now.
One manifestation
of this disability in my early days was when I put together electronic
kits. Electronic components were color-coded. The three color bands on a resistor indicated
the value. Early on, I frequently
choose the wrong resistor. I resolved that problem by not relying on my
interpretation of the color bands but by using an ohmmeter. I successfully built several HeathKits.
Then at
some point in my life I got a creative urge to paint – oils, acrylics. The typical reaction to my product was,
“Geez, those colors are weird.” They
looked normal to me. Well, of course,
that led to abstract art where weird colors were de rigueur. When you don’t know what the hell you’re
looking at, you can’t complain about the colors. I painted several pieces that I (alone?) liked.
Photography
drastically changed art. When a
mechanical device could render realism, then art had to find alternative
avenues – impressionism, cubism, abstractism, etc.
The artist
who could realistically render a portrait found their market shrinking. Why pay for something that a camera could do
with very little expense?
One neat
thing about art is that most art is appreciated after the artist is dead. So if you’re an artist you can go to your
grave and believe that your discovery will happen. Must be comforting.
Ninety-nine percent of artists just rot in their grave but there is that
one percent.
My youngest
son got a degree, B.F.A, in fine art and I have a few of his paintings. Some are a mixture of impressionism and
realism. Very creative. I like them.
Through
random FaceBook activity I found that the daughter of a classmate of mine was a
gifted portrait artist. She had studied
art and I really like her work. After
some emails I found she could work from photos. I commissioned her to do a portrait if each of my
granddaughters. I have those portraits
now and they will be passed on through succeeding generations. I have something I treasure, are heirlooms,
and will last much longer than the artist.
I direct you to her homepage http://www.maryancilla.com
So I
support art and appreciate it. I’ve been to the Louve, the Rijksmuseum and
several reservoirs of quality art.
I lament I
can’t contribute creatively to it.
2014 Lester C.
Welch
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