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Through painting and drawing, I wish to invoke my ultimate respect to the myriad of forms in which beauty and innocence dwell. Now, I admit that beauty and innocence are very enigmatic terms. They reside, in my opinion, always within the heart and eye of the individual. Brilliance to one can easily be arid to the next, so the best that any of us can do is recognize and appreciate what turns each of us on, and hopefully keep an open heart to the as yet unseen or unknown.
My art is really my attempt at understanding what feeds my own soul, and why it does. Its one thing to simply just enjoy the view. I have the need at times to dissect that view with my own hands in essence recreating it myself. What I end up with is usually an illumination of the literal, which can expose aspects of a subject to me (and others) that were not obvious initially. The decision was made from an early age that art would be the most influential source of my lifes energy. Actually, it was never really a decision its just the way it is, and always has been. Probably the first time that I realized what drawing pictures meant to me was way back during my first few days of kindergarten in Chicago, where our teacher would assign each of us to a different activity at the beginning of each day. Through the luck of the draw, I got to play with crayons those first few days. No problem there it was a fun, comfortable activity that seemed to make the day glide by. And, despite my initial embarrassment, the teacher would often take the time to praise my pieces in front of the rest of class. Doing art, I figured out quickly, gave me my first taste of self respect. But when I was eventually told to do something else, every part of me rejected it to the point of forcing the teacher to physically drag me from my box |
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of crayons kicking and screaming (and I was a very obedient kid, normally)! From those days forward, I knew that all I wanted out of life was the freedom to express myself through painting and drawing. Fortunately, I was blessed with a mother and father who recognized and nurtured my passion with loads of encouragement. We had the Art Institute of Chicago nearby, with its amazing collection of work from some of the true masters. Even though neither of them dabbled in formally creating art, my parents nevertheless had enough enthusiasm and respect for the arts and beauty in general to expose my eyes to some profoundly influential things. Every pencil line or brushstroke from my hand is derived through them. Bob Fassl |