...because I said that I would mention the folk artist that I ran into down in Ponchatoula.Let me back up.
First, a few friends and I had been told about this hermitish folk artist, a painter, who happened to live in the same town we were staying, by someone who caught us admiring some of the art that was hanging up on the wall.
His name is Bill Hemmerling, and he's quite a treat to talk to. He was nice enough to chat with us for about an hour and a half, show us around his studio, talk about God, life, and art (to me, which I will forever remember and appreciate. He encouraged me to write as much as possible, and to find that place in myself to be original, because there's no point in being somebody else telling somebody else's story. Thanks Bill).
His painting have something soulful and beautiful, a fullness that isn't necessarily apparent from the surface. Some people, I hear, dislike the faceless quality of the figures (almost always of black people) that he paints, but he says he has them remain faceless because he wants to represent a kind of universality. The universality being the dignity, the grace, and the beauty of people, especially black people.
He has a series of paintings with the same figure, called "Sweet Olive." She is long, lean, and graceful, and Bill says he paints her that way because growing up, he saw that black people had always been represented in negative ways, so he wanted to paint them in a way that was beautiful, in some sort of classical way.
Bill himself is very gentle, calm, childlike. Despite his humble appearance, he is articulate, sympathetic, aware of the world. His publicist handles the sales, freeing him to paint and live his solitary lifestyle. He paints, feeds his dog and his cat, meets with people who like his paintings, hanging in the back gallery of a furniture store. Who knew you could find this stuff in a small town in Louisiana?
I almost, rashly, put some money down on one of his originals, which would definitely have put me in some kind of ridiculous financial hole, but... it sure felt like it'd be worth it, before I came to my senses. Maybe, just maybe, I can have one of those hanging on my wall one day, now that it looks like I'll be able to support myself.
Also, Blades of Glory? Totally ridiculous.
