Harvesting the courage to think bigger

It was one of the largest paintings I had ever attempted. It barely fit on the rickety wooden easel. Standing in front of it, I was scared. I wondered how I would ever cover all of the white canvas.

I was 14 years old and taking private art lessons with Houser Smith. He encouraged me to think bigger and tackle things that scared me — a lesson that has stuck with me like glue throughout my life. “You can do it, Mark!” he said. “But not until you dip you brush into the oil paints!” I stared at the still-life carefully arranged on a table.

I had gathered the things around Houser’s studio. It was always so much fun to rummage through the collections he had amassed over a lifetime. He encouraged me to choose things I normally wouldn’t, so I did. I found an old metal lantern that had been in a corner of Houser’s studio for as long as I had been taking art lessons. I dusted it off and put it on the table. It was dull and black and just needed a candle. It was late summer so autumn was on its way. A large, plump pumpkin sitting on his front porch captured my attention. I picked it up and carried it inside to place with the lantern.

My scavenger hunt continued as I went room to room searching. I stumbled upon a single ear of corn. The kernels had completely dried into a petrified state and a few pieces of the fragile husk hung on for dear life. I placed it next to the pumpkin and lantern.

Slowly but surely, I gathered an interesting group of things to paint. The next time Houser stopped by he was impressed with my selections. “Mark, it looks like you have gathered a harvest of things.” he said. “You need a few more things and I think I have them.” He left and returned shortly with several pieces of fruit that were still cold from the refrigerator. “Here, put them where you think they should go.” he said. I nervously walked to the table trying to second guess where he might place them.

I nestled them into the vignette, took a deep breath and turned around in search of his approval. “I think your harvest is complete.” Houser said. “It’s a very interesting grouping filled with all kinds of wonderful textures. Good job! Now get busy!”

I painted the entire white canvas a deep red color in hopes to channel Rembrandt’s style of rich, deep colors playing beautifully with a light source. After all the white was gone, the canvas didn’t seem quite as daunting so I sketched out the scene and began to paint.

Weeks later, I finally finished it with Houser’s approval. “Mark, what are you going to do with that big painting?” he asked. “I’m going to give it to my mother. She needs something to hang in our dining room.” I answered. Houser smiled knowing Mother had always been my biggest supporter and fan. I couldn’t wait to get it home.

Our dining room was very small and there was only one wall where the painting would fit. We hung it and there it stayed until both Mother and Daddy passed away. It witnessed many years of family dinners, birthday and anniversary celebrations and every holiday. It gladly provided the backdrop for many of our family photos.

It now hangs in my studio. Every time I pass it, memories of the process come flooding back. I especially like it during the fall months because Houser always called it my “large, harvest painting.” At the time, it was the biggest painting I had ever done. I’m so glad Houser pushed my limits. I wouldn’t be the artist I am today if he didn’t believe I could paint anything I wanted to. His belief gave me the courage I needed to become the best artist I could be. Is there anyone who needs your belief in them today?

This story was originally published September 27, 2017 at 3:51 PM with the headline "Harvesting the courage to think bigger."