Dear Artist, On January 23, 2001, I wrote you a twice-weekly letter from a hammock beside a sleepy lagoon in a tropical clime. Heliconius butterflies skipped over the calm surface where unseen tilapia and bobo mullet roiled below. The daily…
Dear Artist, Last night three Canadian filmmakers got together for a shared activity they call “jam band.” My twin brother, James, is one of them and, when we’re all in the same town, I tag along for the fun. James…
Dear Artist, “What are you doing?” a voice asks from behind me in clear, almost musical English. Turning around I find a saffron-robed monk. He is a round little man with a round, shaven head, flatter than it is deep…
Dear Artist, These weeks have brought thousands of letters from artists worldwide, offering encouragement, experience and information regarding Dad’s predicament. Within the messages have been recommendations for special doctors, special procedures, special mushrooms, special air, and special attitudes. Among the…
Dear Artist, Michelangelo started his Last Judgment in the upper left hand corner and, over a period of four years, worked his way down through about 250 nudes. Every figure was started with a “comp” — a paper drawing pounced…
Dear Artist, Ferrari driver Niki Lauda was Formula One’s World Champion in 1975, 1977 and 1984. Ron Howard’s 2013 feature film “Rush” explores the relationship between Niki and his rival, English driver James Hunt. “A wise man can learn more…
Dear Artist, As soon as you enter the world of fairy tales or myths, you become aware of recurring types of characters. The Swiss psychologist Carl Jung called these characters “archetypes.” He felt that the human race had a shared…
Dear Artist, Science fiction writer Ray Bradbury wrote, Write a thousand words a day and in three years you’ll be a writer. Social scientist Malcolm Gladwell calls it the 10,000 hours rule. American radio host and producer Ira Glass reminds…
Dear Artist, We have a patio built out above our overgrown ravine. If I stand on the edge I can drop a ball down into the jungle. Though she can’t see where the ball goes, Dorothy will enthusiastically tear around,…
Dear Artist, Last Tuesday, I took my Mom for “An Evening with David Sedaris.” It was Dad’s idea – from the foot of my bed. I awake these mornings with him standing there, coffee in hand, and a more-urgent-than-usual creative…