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December 27, 2006

Happy New Year

In 2007 may you break free from that which is holding you back from doing amazing things.

Posted by trevor at 04:48 PM | Comments (4)

Silent Conversation

As I mentioned earlier in these pages, while waiting for a lunch partner last year, I sketched two people sitting across from me. They did not say one word to each other, but they enjoyed the most loving, SILENT conversation.

Sometimes the best words are those not said.

Posted by trevor at 10:07 AM | Comments (2)

December 22, 2006

Posted by trevor at 12:03 PM | Comments (2)

December 20, 2006

Employment Announcement

I am thrilled to announce that Daring “Dave” Anvil (pictured above in Kwazulu) has been selected (by myself) to accompany me on both my USO trip to Okinawa and Guam and my visit to South Africa in January.

Dave is an accomplished journalist who will be taking notes for my biography, which he will write. Who better to pen my life story than Daring “Dave” Anvil, one of the more interesting characters who hangs around in my head. As my old advertising mentor Kim DuToit always used to say, “Keep it in-house, if you can.”

Other than writing my biography and sending communiqué’s from lands afar, Dave will continue his search for Lisa Ling, whom he hopes to meet on the shores of some exotic land during his travels. (Dave plans to write a book about his search called 'Looking for Lisa Ling'.)

Look for reports and photographs soon.

Posted by trevor at 07:33 PM | Comments (4)

December 18, 2006

I just re-read a book I absolutely love called "Orbiting The Giant Hairball" and it reminded me of a journal entry relating to the first time I read this inspiring book:

I was painting on a large canvas today and appreciating how wonderful it is to be free to paint whatever I am driven to paint. I found myself contemplating my future as a blank canvas and it reminded me of a fabulous book I read recently called ‘Orbiting The Giant Hairball’ (Viking). In the book the author Gordon MacKenzie (who was a creative genius at Hallmark cards) writes about turning one's life into a masterpiece.

He talks about imagining that when you are just about to be born, God hands you a blank canvas and asks you to do him a favor and paint a masterpiece for Him while you’re on earth.

“Sure,” you say to God and roll up the canvas and tuck it under your arm. Then you head off down the birth canal clutching the canvas as you are born.

MacKenzie asks us to imagine the doctors saying, “Hey look the little kid is holding a rolled-up artists canvas.”

He then goes on to talk about how the people (around you when you are born) realize that you do not have the skills to do anything 'meaningful' with the canvas. So they take the canvas away from you, for safe keeping, until you have acquired the prescribed skills needed for the canvas’s return.

MacKenzie brilliantly describes how society, while holding the canvas for us, cannot resist the temptation to unroll the canvas and draw pale blue lines and little blue numbers all over the surface.

He mentions how eventually the canvas is returned to you. However, it now carries the implied message that, if you paint inside the blue lines provided, your life will be a masterpiece.

“And,” says MacKenzie, “that’s a lie.”

Finally he talks about a time, a half-century after his own birth, when traumatic events made him pull back from his ‘masterpiece-in-the-works’ only to realize how awful his canvas looked. How the strokes of paint oh his canvas had nothing to do with him. They did not illustrate who he was or what he could become. They were someone else's idea of who he should be.

So he decided to white out his canvas and (with colorful paints) create his own picture, some of it OUTSIDE the lines.

He concludes with the following passage:

“You have a masterpiece inside you, too, you know. One unlike any that has ever been created, or ever will be.

And remember.

If you go to your grave without painting your masterpiece, it will not get painted. No one else can paint it. Only you.”

Unfortunately Gordon MacKenzie died in October 1999. After reading his book I know he took a brilliant masterpiece back to his maker.

Posted by trevor at 08:15 PM | Comments (3)

December 13, 2006

Posted by trevor at 04:59 PM | Comments (2)

December 11, 2006

Last night I had the honor of giving the keynote address at the Candlelighters Childhood Cancers Foundation’s annual tree lighting ceremony in Washington D.C. (I am on the board of the organization.) It is an event where children who have died from cancer are remembered and those in treatment are honored. (Gold ribbons are placed on the tree by family and friends.)

It was a joy to celebrate with children who have survived the disease and to share hope with kids who are fighting the good fight. I wept with a heavy heart for the parents who bravely came up to the microphone to say the name of their child who had passed away and then place the gold ribbon on the tree. (There are way to many mothers and fathers remembering children who have passed away from the horrible disease.)

I am so proud to be part of the Candlelighter family. The unparalleled love, support, caring and kindness these family’s show for each other (despite the awful nightmare they have been through) is unbelievable. (It was so touching to see families whose children have survived hugging and holding those who have not been so fortunate.)

I was swamped with hugs, kisses and high fives from a happy bunch of kids who manage to enjoy life to the max despite all they have been through. I am happy that some of the kids I saw last year now have HAIR! (Georgia. Amber and Alex are off treatment and looking fantastic.)

What an inspirational evening. I got to see many of my little buddies and made some new friends, including a young girl with an amazing spirit. Her name is Ambriel and she is one incredible human being. (See picture above.)

To quote Ambriel’s mum. “Our journey began with a routine X-ray ordered by a urologist looking for any calcium build up in Ambriel's bladder.

What he found was a monster lodged deep within the skeleton of our ten year old daughter, Ambriel. Her pelvis looked as though something had taken a bite out of it.

After a month of tests, doctors, and referrals, Ambriel was diagnosed with Chondrosarcoma, a very rare bone cancer on October 11, 2006. Two weeks later she had a golf ball size tumor removed along with the top half of her right pelvis. Her life and ours were forever changed....

Upon meeting her, Ambriel greeted me with a smile that warmed my soul. I was awed by her spirit and uncompromising determination. You will be hearing a lot more about this amazing individual.

This is what she told her mother recently: "They took the bone from my body, but it has been replaced with the love of my family and friends... I am not missing anything..." -Ambriel Nov. 2006

As a member of the Candlelighters I am truly blessed to know so many wonderful families who despite their awesome burden can still reach out and comfort others.

Posted by trevor at 06:35 AM | Comments (6)

December 04, 2006

Another Secret Revealed

Today I was asked a question that I get asked very often. I have shared the answer before but would like to share it again.

I am taking a huge chance sharing the answer though because it means revealing a big secret. A secret that can actually help turn a perceived 'non-artist' into an artist in under thirty seconds. I am taking a chance by doing this because revealing this secret will annoy companies that make and sell expensive art supplies. It will probably also irritate some artists who don’t want ordinary, so-called, un-artistic, soccer moms or accountants or steel workers to suddenly be able to join their elite and mysterious renaissance ranks.

I decided to reveal the secret because almost every day someone asks me what the secret to my drawing is. What secret graphite pencil do I use? What secret charcoal powder do I use? What secret technique do I use? What secret paper do I use?"

Well, I’ll tell you. The secret is a good old #2 pencil and a piece of paper. And an open mind, of course.

Yes. I heard the collective gasp! “What?"

You heard right. Believe it or not I drew the picture above from a postcard with a chewed up #2 pencil on a piece of paper from my laser printer. I just looked at the postcard and drew what I saw. I was not trying to draw a perfect replica of the picture. If I wanted a replica, I would have taken a photo with my digital camera.

In fact, I did not try to do anything other than letting my hand follow direction from my imagination. Believe me, the first time I tried to draw by looking at a picture, the results were really disappointing. This happened because I was trying so hard not to make a mistake. I was holding the pencil so tightly that, like a bent garden hose, I blocked the creative juices flowing from my imagination to my hand. I was rather frustrated and quite disappointed that my drawing looked so amateur.

Later that day I saw a man doing Tai Chi in the park near my house. He seemed to be painting a giant invisible piece of art in the air with his hands. The movement was so fluid and effortless. I wondered what the drawing would have looked like if he had a brush in his hand and a canvas in front of him.

I thought about the Tai Chi man that evening while trying to draw again. Just thinking about his fluid hand moments soothed me and I felt my whole body relax. The result was amazing. My drawing was so much better. The more relaxed and uninhibited I became, the better I drew. It’s really as easy as that.

Quite simply the secret to discovering the art within yourself is you and the good ol’ #2.

Please do me a favor. If you have always wanted to draw but were afraid to do so, buy or steal a pencil, grab a piece of paper and sit yourself down somewhere comfortable. Preferably without a peanut gallery nearby. Take an orange or an apple from your fruit bowl and draw what you see. Try not to draw too small because tiny drawing tends to tighten you up. Draw your orange or apple about half its actual size and try not to hold your breath while drawing. Forget about the end result and enjoy the process.

Now, here’s the trick.

Try one simple line drawing with your average pencil. Then (and this is vitally important) quickly admire your work and enjoy it for what it is because, if you’re like I was, your inhibitions, your inner critic and your striving for perfection will quickly rob you of the pleasure of your drawing. The more you allow yourself to enjoy your art, before the judging ruins the process, the more you will have the power to control your own judgments.

After a little practice at both the drawing and suspending judgment, you’ll discover that your art will become more and more pleasurable.

Posted by trevor at 04:22 PM | Comments (2)