I AM DANIEL, I MADE THIS…
I was born anew unto a world reborn free from abuse, full of love, safety, and encouragement for creation. At the age of eight the world was cold, hopeless, and colorless with the only escape being art. Teachers are the torchbearers in this world, and their actions have deep impact upon growing minds. It was the effort of several torchbearers to save my spark.
I was introduced to A.E. “Bean” Backus shortly before my ninth season under the sun. He was the compass to my storm, guiding the ship to safe harbors, in that turbulence my course was forever altered. At a small table, strewn with newspapers and a chess board Don Brown guided me to my new father figure. Bean could ease a conversation on a tight rope with roller-skates.
He spoke to a person as the most important event in the room regardless of reflection. So began a good deed in an imperfect world, were being, was important enough to flourish. “Petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid” words to live by, grow, and guide a gentle soul. As the bird builds its nest, how to be a decent human being, through art, through life, and through love is what he taught.
FINDING A NEW COMPASS
When Backus died, I lost my very own North Star it felt as if the world lost its luster. My parents, married over 20 years separated and divorced a month after the loss of Bean. I volunteered for military service on my 17th birthday and never looked back. Less than a month after high school I was on a plane to basic training.
During my advanced individual training at Fort Sam, I volunteered for Ranger Service and managed to talk a few others to join. Little did I know, I would spend two and half years in special operations and become a Ranger Medic. I was injured one year from the day I graduated in a parachute accident ending my career.
Some may call that fate, some may call it kismet, all I know is Murphy was a grunt and to expect the unexpected.
FINDING MY PURPOSE
There was no parade or fond farewell reception after leaving the military, just cold hard reality. I was a disabled veteran that no one wanted to hire. Homeless, working day labor, and wondering what next, fate stepped in. I was introduced to the local veteran service officer and my life changed overnight. College bound, with no clue or thought about ever going back to school I studied art education.
Fast forward several years and working at the Department of Veterans Affairs I was helping soldiers just like myself again. I pursued and earned my graduate degree while working with and for veterans until I medically retired. Something was missing in my life.
Art is something that has never left my thoughts, it’s almost like a disease, once you have it, you just have to create.
FUFILLING A PROMISE
At this point in my life, I have had many adventures, done crazy things, Hell I have jumped through a cloud. Painting and drawing have always been my passion and pulled me through for over 40 years. But what is art really…is it a thing…is it a purpose. I neither know nor think I know art by recognizing my own ignorance.
This is what keeps me awake at night. This is why I paint. I paint now to fulfill a promise to Backus that I made before he died. Simple really, “Go have your adventure, fall in love, live life, but promise me to come back.” Human beings strive for purpose their entire lives, very rarely do they succeed, or have a clue what purpose is.
My purpose with my art is to pay it forward. If I am ever known for my art, I would rather be remembered as a great humanitarian.
