Coming Home

As an artist who makes a full-time living from the sale of my art, there is always an awareness that what I paint needs to be for sale. I set myself a challenge one day to paint something with no intention of selling it. I decided to paint a self-portrait...I mean, who's going to hang a painting of me?

I had recently returned from England, where I grew up. My bother and I visited our old home in Lincolnshire. This is a county on the east coast of England, and during the second World War, was home to many bomber squadrons that flew nightly raids to Europe.

The old Air Force base was right across the street from our house, and we spent our childhood playing there. It was a great place for kids to explore, and we found old bullets and all sorts of other treasures. The airstrips are gone now, the quonset huts have been dismantled, and the county has made it into a park. There is a strange sadness to it.

I used this landscape as the background for my self-portrait. If you look closely at the tree line, you can see the ethereal figures of those who didn't make it home.

I'm a great deal older; it's been 55 years since I played there. The face is older, but the same boy is looking out of those eyes.