New York City Loyola Years It was a month into the school year when the Loyola art teacher had a stroke. A short time later I found myself sitting in the school parlor talking with Fr. Fox, the school’s Headmaster. I told him I would teach the students under one condition. I teach them only my way and if he was not satisfied I would stay on until he found someone else. I ended up staying for eighteen years and Fr. Fox and I became very good friends. The students I taught during those eighteen years were amazing. All of them were cool in their own unique way. My day was made as I watched them expressively draw and paint. I had a great time telling them the stories about such artists as Michelangelo, Van Gogh, or Picasso. Hopefully they still get excited when they see a picture from any of the visual rebels I showed them. Many an evening on my way out of the art studio I would stop for a moment in our adjacent hallway gallery. Taped to the walls or setting on easels were the student’s large pastels or oil paintings. For me there was no doubt, that my young rebels were damn good. |
![]() Clock with Glasses, 2001, 8 ½x 11, Pen and Ink
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