Living Art Day by Day: The Paintings of Lloyd Brown

Lloyd's painting of our irrigation pond.

 

I have no idea how to introduce my brother’s art, except to introduce it.  Lloyd has been painting consistently since he was five.  As I’m nine years younger than him, I have never known a Lloyd who is not working on a painting or a drawing--ever.  I am certain I’m a poet for two reasons:  First, he fostered in me the desire to create from an early age.  Second, there was no way I could compete with him, and so I had to find another outlet.  At first, I thought it’d be architecture, but it turned out words are my concrete, my wood, my steel--the structure of a line, a stanza, my solid, my void, my frozen music.

But, I’ve never been the artist Lloyd is.  My artistic output has waxed and waned with the seasons of my life.  Much of the time I have been quite content not to create.   Lloyd, on the other hand is one of those rare people who truly is an artist.  His entire life has been spent creating, day after day, sun up to sun down.  That has made him more than just a good artist.  There are many of us that can claim to be good at what we do.  We teach, we read, we listen, we go to art openings and open mic nights.  We produce here and there.  We may even be important to the local scene.  We enjoy the arts and our lives wouldn’t be complete without them.  I’d like to think that’s me.

But Lloyd is an artist on a completely different level.   Like Picasso or Paul McCartney he is destined to go down in history.  I have no doubt whatsoever that both my posterity and the posterity of my sister’s family will be well-taken care of by revenue from Lloyd’s art.  It’s unavoidable.



This is of Notch Peak from his Highway 50:  Loneliest Road in America series,
a combined project we planned together in 2005,
which was to culminate in a show and book.  The show occured. 
The book did not--at least not yet.



That’s not what is important to me.  I hope it doesn’t ruin them as legacy so often does.  But, I’m glad to have been a part of it, and I hope like me, my offspring will be moved by his vision to create here and there in their own ways.  Life really is not the same without art.  I used to hate the title of the anthology, Poetry Like Bread.  Having been poor much of my life, I thought it was somewhat pretentious.   A starving man needs food not art.   Older now, I realize there are more ways to starve than one.

Lloyd, thanks for providing a feast for generations to come.



This is also from his Highway 50:  Loneliest Road in America series.
 I believe it's near Hazen, Nevada. 
If that's incorrect, I'll edit this post later.