I like art in many forms, I myself like to draw, have always liked to draw, and even took second place in St. Paul, Minnesota for a painting I drew in High School, in 1965, it was put in the museum, with other paints for sale. I sold it for $25 dollars, a large amount for me back in ’65, equal I would guess to $400 nowadays. I had a portrait done of me several years ago, when I could afford it, by an international artist, Yang Yang, it captivates me how he did it, not that I think of myself as a great person to have had him draw me, I mean paint me, just he did it with what I call, a person wanting to look at it; like in poetry, some of my poems I like reading over and over, and others I’d prefer not to. I guess everybody has to like something, and I like many things, art, music (I play two instruments) books, I’ve written a number. I like shooting guns, horse back riding, but art comes close to my second love in liking something.
I know some folks like dogs and cats, I don’t like cats and dogs I got no time to feed, nor do I care for drinking or smoking cigarettes, a squander of time and money to me. But I like many other things, art being number two. No, I have not mentioned games, because I don’t care for them, another squander of good time, so I feel (I like chess now and then, mostly then than now). I don’t like football, or hockey, or basketball, or baseball, or any of those things. Although I like a bullfight, a cockfight, and sumo wresting, boxing, karate tournaments: things like that. But art comes up all the time as second place in my liking something Guns for sale Europe.
I get tired although doing all the things I’ve mentioned except looking at art, buying it, owning it, and books. So I like many things, but art and books fill me up to the rim and I seem to not mind, flowing over it; whereas–funny I say this–other things, once to the rim, is enough for a long time, if you know what I mean.
So I never get tired of reading, writing, and art, doing or looking at it. I cannot tell you the reason for it, I don’t know it, and do not care to chase the reason to death either, just want to enjoy it. Oil paintings or water paintings, or pencil drawing, you name it, I can enjoy doing it or looking at it (also sculptures). I enjoy talking to the artists also, I like the way they think; of course I like signed paintings, originals, like first edition books signed. So I say, with out any reasoning, it is simply a fact, I like what I like, and if I was to mention what artists I like, I would have to go from Europe, a few hundred years back, to the present, and stop in Japan and China for a spell, and America, and of course, Indonesia, and South America. The sculptures in Asia are grand likewise. So why I like art, which is the title of this letter, I say in all honesty, this is the best I can do.