Everyone begins somewhere

I have always been interested in how artist develop.  The uniqueness of their art is found in the uniqueness of the road traveled.

I started my journey into art while I was a young.  I started taking piano lessons at the age of 9.  The beauty of classic piano and classic violin still moves me as it did back then.  I stayed with the piano until the age of 13.  But by then something else had replaced it.  It was as the age of 12 I started working for my grandfather.  It was when I started being a plasterer's apprenctice.

I was trained to labor for other plasterers.  I was taught to set up jobs properly as to not interfere with other trades.  I was also trained to mix mud.  This is the chief responsiblity of the apprentice.

The term mud does indeed represent plaster.  When you are up to your elbows in it, it then becomes mud.  If you have never mixed plaster for a crew on a job site in the demonic heat belt of August in Middle America then I am afraid you must call it plaster.  It is a rite of passage with titles in tow and courtesy of protocol much like the house of commons.  You must earn the right to call it mud, because if you don't respect it, you will never master it.

I was 12 when I started out.  My very  first job was an old summer house that had originally been built around the turn of the century by some nuevo riche from Chicago commodity trade.  A money baron to be sure, but a Chicago money baron, so there was of course a few moments of tribute and dance.

The job was the pool house.  It looked like a huge loaf of rye bread with a foam layer of white powdered sugar.  I could break pieces off with my hands.  The structure itself was still intact and strong, which I thought was amazing, but the exterior was in dire need of repair.

My job, as the apprentice, was always the worst job on the job site.  On this particular job site, this meant I had to chisel and hammer off all loose plaster in order to get down to the raw structure so we coudl fasten wire lath, which would hold the new coats of plaster.  I learned immediately that a apprentice has no decision making requirements and also has no input on how the job is to done.  No complaining.  My grandfather made it clear to me that my best chance of making  lunch was to serve him in silence, and remember everything he did.

I believe each human should understand the scientific mode of transportation of plaster dust and lime.  Learning how things travel would be a great benefit when understanding just what a job entails.  I was amazed where one might find such things while combing your hair or taking a shower.  Plaster dust and plaster chips can appear like magic in the strangest places in the might unknowable of times.

You might find dust in your ears.  You might find it in your nose.  You notice immediately when it gets in your eyes.  It even gets in your fingernails while you are wearing gloves.  Physics might be interested in this one.

At the end of my first day, dealing with the plaster, my arms were ready to fall off, my forearms looked like Popeye, my hands didn't work enough to allow me to open the truck door handle without a significant amount of effort.  I was sunburn, coated in sweat, which caked the plaster dust on me which built a suit of lime, which burned.  I had plaster chips in every part of my body and with three feet of my person.  I was so tired I couldn't even roll down the window in the truck, not that it mattered.  I didn't have any more moisture in me to sweat out.

I thought I was dying.  Then in my desire for the end of days, the truck stopped in a parking lot on a main street.  I heard the words ice cream.  I found the strength to open the door and stumble in after my grandfather.  In line and placing a order for a double scoop, this was my reward.  My grandpa and I sat down and ate ice cream.  We didn't talk.  The ice cream was really good.  When we finished, I felt brand new.  Like it was morning all over again.  Although we were going home, we talked about when he started.  I didn't feel tired anymore.  I didn't feel hot or wore down.  I can't explain it even now.

One plasterer and one apprentice.  A day of work.  My grandpa and me driving down the road.  That is how I got here.