PRIMARY PONDERINGS and Using Art to Reflect on Life

The meaning behind my new art book, PRIMARY PONDERINGS. Finding new life after a near-death experience using art. By exploring curiosity and taking small, meaningful steps each day, a rich life awaits.

What a special day today! We can use some special days these days. My third book, PRIMARY PONDERINGS, was released. It’s available on Amazon in paperback and ebook. The philosophy in this book changed my life. I hope it can add some brightness to yours.

PRIMARY PONDERINGS was essentially triggered by one particular event, followed by many small things. I grew up on a farm in rural Wisconsin. Even though I live in Chicago, I still go home to help during the seasons. In May 2018, I was involved in a tractor accident. I’m on this tractor that I’ve driven for years. I’m in this field and I hear this loud pop. Smoke immediately shoots out. I’m approaching a tree line, so I shift into neutral. By the time I look back up, flames are already surrounding the cab. My heart drops. I think, “this is it.” Without hesitation, I open the cab door and just jump through the flames. I know I’m going to get burned.

What’s interesting is that the week before this happened, I met up with a friend visiting town. During our conversation we discussed what it meant to live a rich life. My name is Rich—as you’re aware. The main association with my name is money. But I see it as abundance. High value and quality. At the time, I desperately wanted to live a richer life. I just didn’t know how. I felt as though my life had gotten complacent and had actually thoughts about the possibility that the dreams I’ve had my entire life wouldn’t come true.

Well, a near-death experience will certainly light a fire under you. Literally, in my case. Almost immediately, everything superficial evaporates. We humans and society seem to have a tendency to distract ourselves and avoid the most important concept: this ends. The biggest question confronted me: what does all this mean?

I began asking questions about my life. Why? For whatever reason, I thought I could find answers in books. So I checked out the 50 book max from the library. I read. I’m not sure which one it started with. But soon I ran into a problem: I wasn’t getting through them quick enough. So then I committed to read one a week. My curiosity consumed me. I’m still doing it. Every book leads into another. There’d just be a line or name in one book that made me want to learn more. It’s been a journey.

I took on this philosophy that my life is a puzzle. Before my time ends, I have to complete the puzzle—the caveat is that I know I’ll never complete it—but it’s fun! So I’m on a quest. A puzzle piece is a big idea or knowledge I was unaware of. It fits. It helps me understand the world just a bit more. Revelations almost. On my adventure, I’ve learned the easiest and most sure-fire way to acquire a puzzle piece (for me) is through reading a book. The next would probably be travel and then conversation. It’s rare for me to discover one in a song or movie or TV show. It’s trained my mind to always be open. Always listen to other people and always keep your eyes open to observe and notice things all around.

While asking why, I looked around my apartment. Here I was surrounded by primary-colored paintings. Why did I do that? Before the tractor accident, I lived in Darkness. I think everyone has a different word for it: Depression, Overthinking, Anxiety, etc. To me, Darkness is whatever is preventing me from living the life I truly want to lead—being the person I truly am. Whenever I read articles or books written by doctors or nurses caring for dying patients, the top regrets are always the same. Honestly, I don’t know why we don’t think about this more. But the biggest regret is always “I wish I had the courage to be myself.” Wow. That’s jarring.

I think I surrounded myself with the primary colors because I want to feel like them. But I lost the courage to live like them. They reminded me of simplicity, boldness, and optimism. That’s how I wanted to lead my life. So how do I change that? It’s by taking one small step forward each day, hoping they add up. I worked at it. I practiced every day. If I want to make an impact in the world, it can only start with myself. I can’t ask anyone to do something I don’t already do.

Coincidentally, the day before the tractor accident, signed up online for a membership at the Art Institute of Chicago. When I visited the museum the next week, it challenged my perspective. I used to think art was pretentious. Growing up on a farm, I’m not exposed to art. I’m into sports and stuff. I never thought art was for me. But I kept visiting and visiting the art museum. I loved it. It made me feel a certain way, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Slowly, I began realizing that art is just the expression of ideas. Art museums are just a display of ideas from human history. That’s cool! I’ve always loved history, but I never thought of it that way. In this space you see what people endured, what they believed, what they hoped. Even though we’re living with borrowed time, our ideas can survive us. Art is just a medium to express something. All of a sudden, I’m realizing that art is everywhere. The building styles all over the city are saying something. The park bench, the fonts on the street signs, the interior of a CTA train. It’s all art! I’m surrounded by it! It’s beautiful!

I was going to the Art Institute like every week. Any reason to go, I’d go. I’d learn more and more about history and life each time. I’d see something and look it up and research it at home or read books or watch documentaries about it. Something made me curious, though. The contemporary wing. There’d be art where I’m like: I can do that. I can’t do that specifically right now—paint like that—but I can express myself. I’d go to the museum stores and look at art books. That’s how I’m going to do it. That’s how I’m going to express myself.

So the idea became: I’m going to create art using the primary colors and instead of a plaque explaining the art, I’m going to write a life lesson I’ve learned or philosophy that I’m living and practicing. This was last summer. I bought colored pencils and paper and began sketching these images of cliché things like sunglasses, a tree, a wave, a spiral, a clock. I spent an afternoon doing this in the Lurie Garden in Millennium Park downtown here in Chicago.

I contacted a friend. George Wundsam. I knew that he had experience using Adobe Illustrator to create flyers and things. So I told him about my idea and we started meeting once a week. I told him what I was thinking and then he’d create something similar. We’d make like three each meeting.

But then I grew too excited. I visited the museum even more! I’d go to the libraries and grab stacks of art books and flip through them like a maniac. More and more, I realized that I liked certain art and hated others. Perhaps some would say—taste. My attention shifted to modern art. I devoured any nugget or knowledge out there about specific people. I learned about this woman named Bridget Riley from London. She was a pioneer of optical art. The painting looks trippy and plays with your eyes. The Bauhaus school from Germany, started in 1919. European style and art was flamboyant. They thought art should be for everyone. Simple and functional. Less is more. Everything is made of shapes. You can communicate ideas through shapes—even children understand shapes. Josef and Anni Albers influenced me. Actually, the Nazi’s shut down the Bauhaus in 1933. So they came to America, specifically Chicago and became the New Bauhaus. I learned about Andy Warhol. It helped that the Art Institute had this big exhibit about him recently. There’s no piece in particular but the concept of pop art. I love the brightness of it. The un-pretentiousness of it. It’s fun. I used a concept from Bernard Pifferetti. He doubles the art. Side by side. It makes it more interesting—I think. Stuart Davis paintings a bit.

By exposing myself to a wide selection of art, I learned what appealed to me most, what I found attractive. I like simple and hard edges. I like brightness. I learned about myself a little more by being aware of these characteristics. Oh, that’s right. I love discipline and being creative within boundaries. I don’t like art with no direction or dark colors. I don’t like chaos or avant-garde really.

Vincent Van Gogh interested me. Not his particular style but his story. I read his autobiography: Dear Theo, which are compiled letter to his brother, Theo. It’s unbelievably passionate and beautiful. Finding beauty in the mundane and everyday life. It inspires me. I have a goal now to take a photo with every publicly displayed Van Gogh self-portrait in the world. There are thirty-three. Six are in the United States. So far, I’ve done five: Chicago, New York, D.C., and Paris, where there are two.

So I got super into art. I got so excited that it became difficult for me to wait a week to work on the project. So I taught myself how to use the program. I’d spend my Saturday nights from like seven in the evening till four in the morning just making art and having a great time. I felt so free. I felt like a kid again. I was happy. The music I listened to was like upbeat/dreamy. Harry Styles and Miami Horror mainly. Nu-Disco feels. Groovy vibes.

And then everywhere I went, I kept my eye open. Random scenes and patterns struck me. I’d take a photo of them and replicate them in my own way. It was so exciting.

I went to New York and visited my friend Joe, who’s the Art Director for Primary Ponderings. He has a remarkable eye for aesthetics and awareness within creative environments. I’m fortunate to have someone that talented look over my work and provide input on a project like this. Same with George.

While in New York, I observed the buildings and patterns around me. For the most part, they’re pretty similar to Chicago. I’m curious if it’s an American thing or if it’s because Chicago is kind of modeled after New York. Hmm. I made trips to the Whitney, Guggenheim, and MoMA. I got value from it.

As the creation process came to a close, I visited Paris. There are four pieces in the book designed during that time. It’s interesting how just being a different place helps your eyes see things clearer. The architecture and style is just different. One is the cover. It’s called FLESH. It sums up the book.

My phone was stolen on the Metro. I wish I could tell you more. But it just happened. Yes, I felt like an idiot. Oh well. Move on. It’s just a phone. It’s a thing. I’m unharmed and fine. It sucks, but I acknowledged it happened. Don’t be angry and don’t keep thinking about it. Took the necessary next steps and moved on. I kept that in mind the rest of the day.

At night, I went to a BBQ restaurant (because of course Paris is known for their BBQ). The name of it was called Flesh. While sitting at my table, I noticed a man at a table twenty feet from me. His back faced me. He wore a tattoo on his tricep. It was a rectangle with shapes. I scribbled it in my notebook and when I returned to my hostel, I made it on my computer. It turned out to be the cover. Anything physical can be taken from you. But not what’s inside. A bad thing might happen to you but if you stay positive and focused, good can come from it.

I took small steps to get better every day and to train my mind to be strong. I notice results all the time now. I’m not going to lie, it took a while. But I believed I was on the right track. The lessons and philosophy in PRIMARY PONDERINGS work. This is a book about Light. Light is self-acceptance. You decide who you are. Accept it. Embrace it. It’s love. You’ll experience an unprecedented freedom—one that can never be taken from you. PRIMARY PONDERINGS is my expression of love.

Purchase PRIMARY PONDERINGS here.