How Will I Make Art Today?

As I previously posted, I have been enjoying looking at and studying art lately.  I don't know why I never paid attention before but here I am now, in my dotage, admiring what has been around me all along.  Unfortunately, I think I might be having the desire to try some myself which won't turn out well because I can't draw.  Maybe something abstract?  Maybe more greeting cards?  I have options.

I will never draw like my father.  Here is an example of one of his painted covers.

There is nothing to compare to Beatrix Potter

Or Tasha Tudor...

or my all time favorite Garth Williams

But for today what will it be for me .... cross stitch?  coloring books?  or greeting cards?

There is art all around, inspiration everywhere we look and ways to enjoy and express ourselves in art even if we can't draw.

Ok, cross stitch it is.

Happy Birthday, Daddy

Today would be my father's 87th birthday.  At this point in my life, 87 doesn't sound nearly as old as it once did.  The sad thing is, my dad has been gone for 10 years and 77 years old  certainly doesn't sound as old as it once did.  I think of all the things that have happened in my life in the last ten years and wish so much that he and my mom were here to take part.  I like to think that they know all those things anyway.

My dad was what I call a"public professional".  He was in the public eye most of life.  As a child he worked as a child actor on a local radio program in San  Antonio.  As a teenager he was a news announcer and a disc jockey for several San Antonio radio stations.  He took a break to help the Army out during World War II returning to join the new media sensation known as television.  He remained a newscaster in San Antonio, with one short detour, until 1969 when he became a full time cartoonist -- a career he enjoyed until his death in 2000.  There are any number of detailed bios on him on the internet - just google Pat Boyette and you will find them.

My dad has been called a "renaissance man" -- much of his knowledge was self taught  -- he was an avid reader and had great interest in the world around him.  Whether you were talking to him about religion, politics, movie making, art, aliens, ghosts, Egypt etc, he had something to bring to the conversation.  I miss those conversations.

My dad was a man of compassion.  He would  never walk away from somebody in need and gave many times when the giving wasn't so easy.  He was one of the kindest people I have ever known.
 
 My dad wore a lot of hats, professionally, but to me he was just Daddy.  he was a good father, a great grandfather and he is missed on a daily basis.   So, happy birthday, Daddy -- I wish you were here.

King Aroo

I don't feel well today and even though I didn't feel like doing much, I didn't feel like being completely unproductive either. So, I set about cleaning off the desk. I feel badly about our desk. We have a perfectly good home office and yet my husband schleps the bills and payments to be made to the dining room table because he can't find the desktop. It is usually hidden under DAR papers, genealogy papers, old photos to be scanned and junk mail that neither of us looks at but feels that it might be important enough to not throw away. So, I decided to make the desktop a bit more accessible to him.

As I was clearing things out, I found the little yellowed comic strip shown above. I have been carrying it around with me for some time now because it is important to me. It is the final newspaper comic strip, "King Aroo", drawn by Jack Kent. My copy came from the April 17, 1987 issue of Comics Buyer's Guide.

Jack Kent was an artist in San Antonio. He began drawing the "King Aroo" comic strip in 1950 and continued for 15 years. When I was old enough, I never missed a day of reading it. I remember my father bringing me a copy of a little King Aroo book which I carried around until it finally disintegrated and is no more.

Kent went on to write and illustrate children's books. When my children were small, I joined a book club for them and many of the titles they received were Jack Kent books which we still have in our possession. I believe their favorite was "Socks for Supper". I have since gone on to collect more for my own library of children's books. I believe my personal favorite is "There's No Such Thing As A Dragon".

As I said earlier, this little comic strip is important to me because it was important to my father. See, Jack Kent was a good friend of his. In fact, my father was his best man at his wedding to his wife June. Jack and June have a son, also named Jack, who I have spoken with via email in the not too distant past. Jack Jr. is a nice guy which I wouldn't doubt because his folks were nice people. I wish I hadn't lost his email address.

I remember when my dad learned that Kent was ill. It was a sad day and when he passed away, it was sadder still for my dad who valued the friendship of all those years, it was sad for Kent's fans and for the children who loved his books and the thinly veiled messages therein. So, when I ran across the raggedy, yellowed copy of his last strip, I just had to share it. I searched "Jack Kent" on the internet and found a very recent article written in SA Current. It is written by a woman whose blog I follow - http://www.scribblinginsanantonio.com. The link to the SACurrent article is http://www.sacurrent.com/arts/story.asp?id=70905. It is a great article and if you are interested in Jack Kent, you will enjoy reading it.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the final strip of King Aroo.

Today is my father's birthday. If he were still with us he would be 86. My dad was sort of a renaissance man, or a rebel, a free thinker or maybe just plain stubborn but whatever adjective you use to describe him, boring would not be one of them.

My dad was born in San Antonio in 1923 but lived in several different parts of Texas during his life. He lived in Austin, Corpus Christi, Quemada, the hill country but his heart was always in San Antonio.

He started working at a very young age as a radio actor. At sixteen he decided to pursue a career in radio which he did until Uncle Sam decided differently. He served with the US Army Communication Corp in the Pacific Theater during World War II. Upon his return stateside he was fascinated by television and got into that as quickly as he could. He was an announcer, a weatherman, an anchorman, an artist. He built sets for such programs as "Shock" and "Captain Gus". He had the privilege of interviewing many celebrities such as Raymond Burr and John Glenn.

Being the creative sort, he was drawn to movies and took a stab at making a few himself. One of his movies has been released after many years on DVD and one stands as a tribute in the garden of Frank Thompson. Realizing that San Antonio was not the "new" Hollywood, Daddy returned to television only to leave again a few years later to enter the comic book world which was an enduring career that lasted until his death.

He was all these things, actor, movie maker, tv personality, politician, and artist but to me he was just "daddy". We were too much alike to always get along but I knew, and appreciated, that my homelife was a bit unusual. I grew up with my dad on tv or my dad splicing movies in the back room or, instead of reading me a story, we talked Egyptology. I wouldn't have had it any other way although I didn't realize that until much later in my life.

To my kids he started out as "Pop Pop" but quickly turned into "Banker" and not for the obviously assumed reason. He used to play superhero with my son -- my son being Aquaman and he would slosh into the "bank" and my father was "the Banker", hence the name Banker or Bank. Nope, no Grandpa, PaPa or PopPop for him -- Banker fit him to a tee. He nicknamed my daughter "Breezy Wheezy Motor Mouth" which stuck with her much longer than I am sure she cared for it to. He absolutely adored my kids and was always there with a typewriter to take apart or to help build a Micky Mouse replica for school. My kids were blessed in having an unconventional grandfather with a brilliant, artistic mind.

I choose to believe that he knows how great the kids grew up to be, how fantastic and wonderful Nathan and Kathryn are and how I am growing to resemble him more every day. And I choose to believe that he knows that we wish him a very happy birthday!