Storytelling in Words & Paint
By Jim Draper
My earliest childhood memories find me sitting in a stuffy, smoke-filled, mid-Mississippi living room. Lining the walls sitting on a hodgepodge collection of brought-in chairs was a collection of ancient relatives. Over the pings of silver forks on china plates and the clanks of ill-fitting teeth on caramel cake, I listen to their stories. The tales were mythic, colorful, dramatic, and sensual. Good bulls and big trees, goat butts and stupid mules, turned-over boats and big fish, untimely deaths, and champion flowers. Always the flowers. I was reared as a raconteur with a twisted strand embedded deep in my DNA that gave me the ability to tell a good story.
As I matured, the art of writing hovered over my head like an amorphous cloud. I wanted to figure it out, but it never seemed to be the right time. I chose visual art as my narrative medium. It fit my skills portfolio.
as a painter. Being a writer was left to bob on my horizon as an abandoned sailboat.
For more than three decades I crafted a career for myself as a painter. Made thousands of works. Had exhibits in museums and galleries around the country. Even had a series of shows in Spain. My work graced public spaces and private collections far and wide.
In 2013 I had a complex solo exhibition at the Cummer Museum of Art & Gardens. “Feast of Flowers” was created in response to the 500-year anniversary of the naming of the Floridan peninsula. The 25 paintings celebrated the land before the arrival of the European colonists. They were about locations around the state of Florida and included portraits of various native plants, a passion of mine. By the museum’s estimate more than 40,000 individuals viewed the show. With this, I felt as if I had achieved a certain level of success in my chosen field.
By the end of that year, I reached my sixtieth birthday. A stark reality hit me. All my life I wanted to write. Time was running out. If I were to amplify my voice by adding a literary element, I better get going.
