Up to Me

The twenty-fifth anniversary of my first painting show!

Hello everyone! This is where I share old comics from my sketchbook journal series, “The Drawing Book.” In the last few weeks, we’ve been following my adventures during the eventful spring of 2000, which featured a whirlwind romance and a trip to Italy. But during all that time, I was working on something else, and I thought I’d share that today.

During those years when I was writing comics and figuring out how to be a flight attendant with Air Canada, I also painted a few portraits. One day, a friend of mine introduced me to Lawrence Romanosky, who ran the Auburn Saloon, in a beautiful old heritage building just next to Calgary’s Olympic Plaza. The Auburn is eulogized in this 2013 article (where I also found the photo above) as a stylish “watering hole” that was a favourite gathering place for the city’s theatre scene. Its walls often displayed work by local artists. Lawrence agreed to let me take a shot at a painting show!

Here’s a page from the drawing book that I drew just after that meeting at the Auburn. The art show felt like an important step for me - especially during a time when my friends were “settling down,” and I was doing anything but!

(Those friends were mentioned in a previous Drawing Book episode, by the way.)

Anyway, I got to work! Here’s a sketch from a drawing book page in early March, 2000, along with an old photo I took during that time.

The opening day for my painting show was April 6, 2000 - exactly twenty-five years ago! I found this blurry photo of the show poster. It was an oil painting, onto which I taped a photo of one of the portraits from the show, so that it could be scanned. Yeah, this was before Photoshop.

I remember hating the fact that my last name was on that poster. This was a few months before I changed my last name. Back then, I felt like I was living in the shadow of my parents. The write-ups of my painting show did not help much.

Moving back to Calgary, where everybody seemed to know my parents, after enjoying a few years of anonymity in Toronto, was a weird experience. I signed all the portraits "sam,” so that my last name would not be on them!

“well, i met somebody face to face…”

All the paintings were portraits of people I knew. Portrait painting was still new for me, so I wanted to paint subjects who would forgive me if I did a bad job!

While I was painting all those portraits, I kept thinking of the Bob Dylan song, “Up to Me.” It’s always been one of my favourite Dylan songs. Not only the lively rhymes (“In fourteen months I only smiled once”) and the perplexing cast of characters, but the way the narrator keeps returning to the same conclusion at the end of every verse: whatever needs to be done, is up to him. This painting show was up to me… and figuring out what I was doing with my life, was up to me.

I called the painting show “well, i met somebody face to face” (I was not interested in capital letters back then) - a line from the song. And when the paintings were displayed, I put a placard with a verse from the song, beneath each one.

I don’t remember which verses went with which paintings. (Also, there were sixteen paintings, and only twelve verses, so I’m not sure how that worked out.) But these are a few I can remember:

Oh, the Union Central is pullin’ out and the orchids are in bloom
I’ve only got me one good shirt left and it smells of stale perfume
In fourteen months I’ve only smiled once and I didn’t do it consciously
Somebody’s got to find your trail, I guess it must be up to me

(That was a picture of my brother, who I’d recently visited in Vancouver. The cherry blossoms were blooming, but it seemed to me that he was far from home, trying to figure out what journey he was on.)

If I’d thought about it I never would’ve done it, I guess I would’ve let it slide
If I’d lived my life by what others were thinkin’, the heart inside me would’ve died
I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by enforced insanity
Someone had to reach for the risin’ star, I guess it was up to me

(I put that quote underneath the painting of my other brother - I feel like this quote might have been written for him.)

It was like a revelation when you betrayed me with your touch
I’d just about convinced myself that nothin’ had changed that much
The old rounder in the iron mask slipped me the master key
Somebody had to unlock your heart, he said it was up to me

(While I was in the middle of painting all those portraits, I met the new boyfriend who was mentioned in recent posts. His portrait ended up in the show, too, and when he flew up to visit me in Calgary, he arrived during the opening night!)

Some of those paintings were sold. But a few of them are just sitting in my basement! That’s why I filed this newsletter under the category, “The Unfinished Basement.” I know this Substack is mostly focused on old comics, but there’s a lot of other stuff sitting in my basement that I should really dig up one day, and… do something with! But what?

I guess that’s… up to me?

P.S. If you love the song “Up to Me,” you might enjoy these wonderful conversations about the song, from the late lamented podcast Pod Dylan. Both episodes are great!