this is barkley hendricks, incredible american painter, beloved teacher of mine.

 in my senior year of college, i would carry my paintings across a huge expanse of open field, across campus to the art building, sometimes barely making it depending on how big the canvas was and how strong the wind was, and he would always welcome me warmly, laughter in his eyes, and sit with me and talk about whatever i was working on. i'd had him as a teacher before, but this year it was just me and him, as he worked with me on an independent study project. it was hard to get information out of this man. he didn't speak like the rest of us; he spoke in verse - all the time. it was confounding . . . most people gave answers to questions, but not him. i would let his words wash over me and guide me, even though i would often leave and have no idea what he said or what i should actually do about whatever it was i thought i needed help with. but i wouldn't leave feeling confused, i would be soothed. his humor, his steadiness, his warmth, and the generosity in his choice to treat me as a peer - an artist - did more for me than any words possibly could have. his message was consistent: yeah. it's crazy. yeah, i don't know your answers. yeah, this is what it looks like. over and over and over and it paved the way for my life and work as an artist to unfold. i was too embarrassed to say out loud that i was going to be an artist back then, to most people, and if he - this charismatic, beyond confident, incredible painter man (his retrospective was literally titled birth of the cool) could see me as a painter, well, then i definitely could do this. what a gift he was to me, how lucky am i to have had even a sliver of his attention.

and i felt him with me recently when i painted this:

the inspiration for this piece came directly from my friend ajike, as i watched her talk one day, but then as i painted, barkley came too. i thought about this painting of his:

and i felt his humor, and his warmth, and his support, and my gratitude. i looked at his color choices, and i recognized how he was in me, as all the artists i love are in me, coming out in small and big ways, just as all the people we love are in us, and they come out of us in small and big ways. and i don't know if barkley would like this painting, i have no idea. he never, ever said anything like that. he just smiled, and nodded, and shifted his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, and approved. not of anything specific i'd done, but of the heart, and the desire, and the reaching i was doing. yeah, that's right. that's just how it's done. RIP, barkley. and thank you.

you made the motherf***er, you better be able to carry it.

Barkley Hendricks