Start at the very beginning.

My thumbnail bio says I'm an apprentice retiree. A year and a half into it, I'm still a newbie. Still learning the ropes of the new gig.

I spent a career faking my way through a variety of jobs because I could draw. Never good enough to truly excel at it but managing to do it well enough to keep coming back every day.

Came back every day through forty years of design, layout, production, cartooning, illustration and book design. Charts, graphs, photography, line art, sign and window designs.

All the while, I went home evenings and painted.

Most of my life has been lived in Florida. I've painted in Miami, in Orlando, in Tallahassee.

On the Panhandle coast and the Atlantic coast.

But mostly in Tallahassee. Hills and oak trees. Pine trees. Magnolia trees. Azalea bushes and camellia bushes. Painting Tallahassee requires a lot of green pigment.

I hate green now. I have the common male weakness in seeing the red/green spectrum.

I can see it, but it takes a lot of careful looking and good lighting conditions.

Forty plus years later, I think this blog is going to be about art. Big "A" and little "a" art.

Being an artist and doing it because ... well, because I have to. Can't really say I'm a successful painter. Never won a notable competition. Entered a bunch.

Managed to sell a respectable amount of paintings over the decades, but couldn't make a living at it. Fine art is a tough game to master. It takes determination and grit. People skills. Patience.

Having talent wouldn't hurt, either.

Finally, what does "making it" mean, in the end? What are the possibilities for holding one's head up with a pride of accomplishment? How does one begin to know if, when, one is a good artist?

Does it matter? Who cares?

Let's find out.