An Invitation to My Show
Why The Last Picture Show? Well, I just turned 80 the other day, I only have one good eye left, and I carry my oxygen in a bag.
I also chose The Last Picture Show because I loved the novel by Larry McMurtry and the movie based on it: they depicted a Texas I know and understand.
If you know me at all, you know me for painting animals. At first I was known as the “Cat Guy.” I painted cats as part of the process of teaching myself to paint. After about 200 paintings, I nearly threw up and had a show---financially very successful. A lady approached me at the cat show and said, “Mr. Pinkerton, you must love animals.” I responded, “Not particularly, but I'm hoping you do.”
I had a dog show (along with Jane DuBose), a people show, and another people show (along with Debbie Little-Wilson), and a mixed-bag show.
I consider my art “career,” which didn't start until I retired from public education, a roaring success considering that I was just an old guy trying to fight off boredom.
A few years ago, I wasted eight months painting abstracts. I understand folks call these “non-representational paintings” today. Oh, well. One day I decided to pull all of these gems out of the garage for a personal assessment of my accomplishments. Holy moly! I deemed them to be crap. I put them back in the garage and returned to painting little animals.
About three years ago, I wrote an essay, “Shoot the Art or the Artists?” (http://oldartguy.com/Shoot_the_Art_or_the_Artist.html) in which I criticized local artists (with a few exceptions) for painting bad non-representational art and selling them to a clueless public. Holy moly!
After reflecting on my somewhat rude essay, I decided I should put up or shut up. For starters I painted one hundred 11x14's followed by about forty 24x24's followed by about twenty 32x32's. I culled many in this process and concluded that abstract art is the most difficult of all art forms.
In the middle of my abstract efforts, I developed a serious case of pleural effusion, one heart attack, lost the proper use of one eye, and lost my ability to breathe sufficiently without supplementing my oxygen supply.
After painting all of these abstracts, I've concluded that Kandinsky's place in history is safe.
I've made an honest effort. Come out to the show, enjoy the wine, pick up one of my books, and laugh with me at my “art.”
enough