“Old and Tired, But Still Going”
Painting as a Spiritual Practice
Guest Writers: Ken Fellows
ken fellows
I’ve never been a car-guy, ‘never had a genuine interest in contemporary vehicles other than for utilitarian uses. But antique autos are in a special category for me …objects of style and beauty, nostalgia and craft.
This fascination started one summer when, as a teen, I helped my adolescent friend, Tommy McConnell, completely dismantle ..and then reassemble .. the engine of his Model T Coupe. It didn’t matter that 4 or 5 engine parts were left over. That old engine started immediately and ran perfectly. According to mechanics, a feature of Model T’s is that if 2 of them are completely dismantled, there are usually enough parts to reassemble three functional cars.
That Ford Coupe was central to our neighborhood gangs’ summers on Big Whitefish Lake. We would all pile in weekly, three in the cab, a few on both running boards, several standing on the back bumper, and two to three in the rumble seat to swerve down the gravel roads meandering around the local Michigan inland lakes. Fortunately, our parents never learned about a crash one night into a gravel pile that miraculously injured no one. It didn’t even dent that sturdy Ford machine.
My cars were solely conventional, working and raising a family during my middle adult life. As I neared retirement age, I acquired a home in Maine, and an interest in old vehicles resurfaced there. Briefly, I became the owner of a 1940s dump truck. Why is a mystery, but it did establish me as a ‘character’ in our Kittery Point neighborhood. After a short period, I traded the dump truck for a more reasonable 1938 Plymouth pick-up. It was much more stylish …. black in color with red striping. It sported huge, sculpturally rounded front and back fenders. It was distinctive enough to maintain my reputation as a bit eccentric.
The highlight of that truck’s 15-year ownership was driving it in a parade commemorating the restoration of a local antique bridge –with my 7-year-old granddaughter, Ella, riding beside me and extending queenly ‘royal waves’ to an amused throng through the passenger-side window.
With this background, imagine my delight some years hence at spying the Model A Ford in this painting, parked in a small Maine junkyard. As a subject for a painting’s composition, I’m always attracted to scenes where geometric shapes (as with houses, sheds, vehicles, docks) contrast with the adjacent randomness of nature. As in this picture, the defined lines and angles of the old car stand out against the background of rounded shrubs and overarching trees.
Shadows play another vital part in my art. Without shadows in a painting, there’s no variability in ambient light, which leaves only color to create interest. Perhaps it’s my former life as a radiologist that’s responsible. One of my former medical colleagues, attending a gallery showing of my paintings, remarked: “Well, I see that in retirement, you are still dealing in shadows.”
I also like this scene because it seems a metaphor for human aging –the Model A representing a bygone style preserved over time and still exhibiting signs of solidity and resilience.
In the final analysis, of course, it’s just another watercolor painting in which viewers, I hope, may find some interest or pleasure.
Ken Fellows
Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/