Apropos of Nothing in Particular: Art & Dreams

(Today’s my Dad’s birthday. Happy birthday, Dad!)

I subscribe to the Smithsonian Institute’s photostream on Flickr, and let me tell you, they have archived some of the COOLEST things. This week, it’s the artwork of William H. Johnson. Born in South Carolina in 1901, he started out dirt poor, and moved to New York to pursue work at the age of seventeen. That’s a familiar enough story — country boy heads to the big city to find work, right?

But this man found work, saved money, and went to art school.

There are so many stories that we don’t know. So many dreams that people had, that they quietly strove for, while the wheels of history rolled on. William H. Johnson died unlauded, despite critics hailing his artwork as being as good as Van Gogh’s. I’m really glad that the Smithsonian has preserved some of his artwork, and that we can know a few of this man’s dreams.

Like many artists, he never achieved financial security. Tragedy and disease caused him grief, and ended his career. Like many, he lived with the concerns of making ends meet, and never knew his own greatness in his lifetime. But he never stopped trying.

Hold on to your dreams.

William H. Johnson

1901-1971