life path ©2012 Gary Garbett

I’ve rarely given much thought about the motivation driving me to place one foot in front of the other. I take it for granted as something I’m simply expected to do. Through my years of parenting, I did my best to be the father that I wanted to be, a good one. Looking back now, as I’m able to spend time with our three grown children, it’s apparent that we all survived our younger years quite well. Myself included. In addition to my role as a stay at home father during those influential years, I also balanced my adult life as a fulltime studio artist. My career was far from a nine to five routine, and I loved every moment of it. Finding the stability I needed to balance my role as a fulltime Dad with a business centering on creative self-expression, marketing, promotion, and forward thinking, taught me quite a bit about myself, most of which centered on commitment, ambition, and fervor. A number of years later as our children prepared for their own young adult lives and I approached fifty years of age, the idea of my returning to college became incredibly important to me. I was driven. Two years later at the age of 51, I received my Master’s Degree with honors from the VCU School of the Arts in December of 2010. Though I’ve never labeled it as such, it’s clear that my life’s path has been directed through personal innovation.

My blue-collar upbringing was honest, hardworking, and continues to be an inspiration in my day-to-day passion for life. I owe a great deal of gratitude to my father for many of those life lessons. He was far more scholarly than his partial high school education, and he taught me skills about treating people honestly and the importance of working hard towards creating something better, not for yourself, but mainly for others. My father’s unexpected death in 1993 was a giant hurdle, but I recovered. The day before he passed, the two of us spent several hours together over a long father and son conversation. It was simple, honest, and beyond life touching. His blue-collar way of life didn’t always understand my fine art world. He was however, very proud of the things I’d accomplished in my career, as a father, and as his son. He made it a point on that sunny afternoon to encourage me to do all of the things I wished to do in my life. I replied to him with a promise that I would. I continue to do so. The following morning, he passed away just as I arrived at the hospital. My father was a hard worker, a good man, a teacher, an inspiration, and an innovator.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve made it a point to continually evaluate my life’s focus. It’s a healthy place, always providing me that personal opportunity to think ahead and move forward. I believe in it. I’ve also discovered the truth in surrounding yourself with the right people. During the past decade I’ve been extremely fortunate to be involved with some of the most influential people I’ve ever known in my life, most of whom I’ve met through my circles in education. I have the greatest respect for these friends and colleagues, especially their commitment, dedication, and willingness to make such a positive impact on others. While I find it to be such common nature to do what I do, I continually find it humbling to receive warm accolades from those I consider principal influences in my own life. Their praise and inspiration never go unnoticed as they continue to inspire and propel me.

Innovation. My life has continually been directed by that very concept. As a parent, a fine artist, or middle aged adult returning to college, there have always been a few common threads running through each of those chapters in my life… forward thinking and reinvention of self. My rewards in return have been personal growth and knowledge. As I near the age my father was when we shared that long talk on that warm afternoon in 1993, I look back and realize that very little has changed since I was the young, curious, and spirited son of that blue-collared military man. I continue with my promise and my life path, always hoping to move in that direction ahead of me. Forward.

moving forward ©2012 Gary Garbett

Over the past month or so, I’ve spent a great deal of time in self-evaluation mode. It’s a healthy place and provides me that personal opportunity to move forward.

I’ve never had much faith with the idea of sitting and letting life come to me, even as a child. That certainly isn’t to say that I haven’t had my share of wasted time or even days. I have. Plenty. But as I grow older, I’ve discovered my time is far more valuable than ever before. I understand it, evaluate it, and move in that direction… forward. Tick, tock.

scene 36˚ ©2012 Gary Garbett

Landscapes, personalities, and refrigerator shelves are a constant reminder that little changes from day to day.

goodness looks ©2012 Gary Garbett

I spend fewer days in the studio than I wish I could. Life has a fascinating way of getting in it’s own way sometimes. Those days when I am able to lock myself away in that creative place are treasures. Today was one of those days. When I’m able to share that time with my closest friend, we both own the day… together.

This is exactly how goodness looks. I love goodness.

be the ram ©2012 Gary Garbett

Since I was a child, I’ve often thought that the car someone drives resembles the driver; the headlights, the grill, and the smile of the bumper each miraculously makeup an uncanny likeness of that person behind the wheel. We’re drawn to things that remind us of ourselves. That same likeness thing is present with pets and their owners. Don’t believe me? Take a look for yourself.

This morning, following last night’s dynamic VCU regular season finale win over instate rival George Mason, I woke to a similar likeness situation. I believe in the VCU Rams. It’s apparent and with next week’s CAA Tournament, my horns are coming in quite nicely.

My pups and I may just take a relaxing Sunday afternoon ride later today. You won’t be able to miss me. I’ll be the one that looks exactly like my passengers and my truck.

Be the Ram!

light dance ©2012 Gary Garbett

My morning commute is generally made up of miles and miles of light dances. I love the performance.

game over ©2012 Gary Garbett

Go ahead and wait for Puxatony Phil all you want.

The way I see it, the heck with February 2nd groundhogs, 12″ sprouting bulbs win. Break out the shorts and Wayfarers. Game over.

home alone ©2012 Gary Garbett

While my wife vacationed in Cancun with her parents this past week, I spent a great deal of time with my thoughts and myself. I’ve changed a lot since I was a younger man. Then again, I haven’t changed much at all. My wild and frenzied week of being home alone looked vaguely similar to this.

I listened to more records on my turntable at high volume than I have in a decade and even found a few rarities that I forgot I owned. I prepped a few new recipes in the kitchen and made bbq chicken twice. It was delicious. I cleaned the refrigerator. Every single shelf is spotless, including the condiments shelves and the crispers. I laundered all of the Mexican blankets and linens. I drank coffee whenever I wanted and took my medications regularly as prescribed. I watched football, basketball, music videos, and Bogart films.

I danced with my pets. They make me laugh and I’m willing to bet they laughed at me too. I just can’t tell. I made the best grilled cheese sandwich in the world… three different times. I wore a ponytail, a baseball cap, flip flops, $600 slacks that I paid two dollars for at a thrift store, and many nights I wore pajamas before Brian Williams welcomed me to the 6:30 evening news. There was even one night when I sat with the flickering glow of candlelight while reading liner notes.

I did those mundane things like the dishwasher, the litter box, the laundry, the grocery store, and my weekly jaunt to the landfill and recycling center. I reorganized the kitchen cabinets. I captured a few moments with my camera and a few more with words. I taught myself how to do a few things that I didn’t know before last week. I spent time with each of our three children. They’re all adults now, but they’ll always be my children. I saw red cardinals on several different occasions during the week and I managed to catch an unexpected afternoon nap one day, something I rarely ever do.

I talked to my Mom on the telephone and told her I loved her before saying goodbye. Several nights I was in bed before 10, and other nights not until after 2AM. On Saturday morning I served up a wonderful breakfast, just for the pups and I. I made it a point to say my prayers before going to bed, but admit that I missed a few nights. I also cursed a couple times during the week and apologized whenever I caught myself.

Looking back, my week was everything that it normally is on any given week, minus the company.

eclectic breakfast ©2012 Gary Garbett

I treated myself to a few of the things that I love most this morning – music and cooking. As a result, my Saturday morning looked a little like this.

Scrambled eggs with tabbouleh and feta folded in and sprinkled with parmesan; crispy turkey bacon; toasted oatmeal bread topped with a friend’s delicious homemade lavender peach preserves; a pot of Puerto Rican coffee; and orange juice. Of course an excellent dining experience could never be had without the right ambiance of music, so my turntable soundtrack included Little Feat, Eddie Kendricks, and Cheech and Chong’s Los Cochinos. I do my best to keep the peace around our ranch. So yes, I made enough to share with the pups. The world is a happy place.

I’m almost certain if you Google Map “eclecticism”, you’ll see my house and get directions. See you for dinner.

show and tell ©2012 Gary Garbett

I’ve spent the past few weeks cataloging my record album collection and database. It’s been sort of like attending a 40-year high school reunion without the awkwardness or the nametags. I dig the musicians and their art that helped sculpt the boy I once was into the man I’ve become today. Aside from decades of gained “life” knowledge and grayer hair, there’s really not too much different between the two of us.

My collection represents me. It really is a mish mash of genres, trends, classics, oddities, and accented with its share of one hit wonders, all of which I still believe in. From the time I first began collecting records, I’ve always taken great care of them. Most still have their original shrink-wrap including the advertising sticker that reads, “Includes poster and an eight page collector booklet”. Although the music is essential, great package design has always intrigued me and been equally as important. Several albums in my collection are there strictly because of their packaging and art.

Long before the internet or telephones for your pocket, I’d spend hours and hours on a regular basis studying my heroes through the pages of rock and roll magazines and by flipping through rows and rows of record albums at locally owned record stores. Spending the past few days sorting through thousands of liner notes and deep grooves has been a welcomed reunion with some damn fine music, some which I’ve not heard in years. It’s also been a reawakening with a medium I’ve never ever been very far from. I’m pretty fond of that kid I grew up with. He spent hours each day absorbing a world of music through his turntable. It makes me even happier today, knowing that he still does.

I brought a 1970s Creem Magazine to the office today that I stumbled across during my cataloging. I’ve decided to resurrect show and tell… just because I can. Peace!