Big plans.

In 1953, my freshman year at Belleville Township High School, I spent  many hours drawing cars. The car culture was in full swing and all young boys were dreaming of sleek custom “hot rods”. My ideas were influenced by the futuristic cars illustrated in Popular Mechanics magazine. My Grandpa had a huge collection of the magazines in his workshop. It was the first place I went  when we visited him in Coulterville, Illinois.  I would study the picture intently and dream of building a car.  There was an ad in one of the magazines about the Fisher Body car model contest. I sent for the information and received an envelop with all the details. My favorite part was the schematic .  I was able to locate one on the internet and it still gives me the sense of awe I felt as a teenager. I like plans and schematics. I still fill my drawings with symbols, lines and shapes that look like diagrams.

I was really anxious to start the build but money was tight and wood and paint for the model would be hard to buy. Also, I did not have the proper model tools or space for working.  I did manage to get some wood but it was not the smooth pine wood that was suggested and I tried carving it with a pen knife.  I would work many frustrating hours on the back stoop of our small house.  Sitting on the concrete  and carving. It was problematic  and dangerous. I suffered many cuts and scraped knees.  Well to make a long story short, I never finished the model.  I still think about that failure.  I had expectations of creating an award winning model and I would have a special assembly at school; all the students would marvel at my achievement.

I have come to realize that the car debacle was a learning experience and I  incorporated it into my life and teaching.  I have had many unfinished project. and many of my students struggled to finish projects. It sounds sort of quaint and old fashion to say “you learn from your failures” but I think it is true.

"Things hidden in my head" Copyright 2015 © Ronald D. Isom, Sr.

Isometric drawing.

I do not know it I have the necessary skills to write a book about art education but I have been compiling small snippets about my career in education and sharing them on Facebook. Tracing the twists and turns of my seventy-five year journey has been a enlightening experience. 

Of course, art teachers, course work, family and the creative process have been my main influences. When you dig deeper, small things reveal a complex network of influences. In high school, I was an average student hoping to go to college. The men in my family were laborers, farmers, railroad workers and mine workers. I was encouraged to obtain a skill.  Most students in my situation enrolled in “shop classes”. During the 1950’s the vocational education department was popular. Auto shop classes and drafting classes were very popular.  One of my favorite classes was Mechanical drawing. Projects were drawing on light green paper with specific borders and precise lettering which were called “plates” Neat rows of helvetica letters indicated the title of each projects. Clean drawings with tracing paper cover sheets were very important. I remember the Thomas E. French textbook illustrations and the wonder of isometric drawing (the word seems prophetic ). I was a good students and learned to be neat  and precise. That element is very evident in my work today and do enjoy detailed work with no erasures. 

"Things hidden in my head" Copyright 2015 © Ronald D. Isom, Sr.

Lessons in work and play

My dad had a strong belief that work was not play and you should not have fun when you are on the job. I think his strong conviction come from the fact that he spent many years without work and struggled to find employment during the depression. He was very demanding  and he  expected me to work hard and never complain. If I complained he would just create more work for me. His favorite refrain was “stop playing around”. I was expected to come right home after school and do chores before supper. After supper I had to go to my room and do my homework and go to bed. During the school year it was simple work and school. He was a bit more lenient during the summer. I was allowed to play with my friends for a few hours in the late afternoon and sometimes during the long summer evening. However, most of the time I was playing with my brother and taking care of him. When I was about 12 years old my dad put me in charge of mowing a vacant lot next to our house.  

I was surprised when my Dad purchased an old gasoline powered mower to make cutting the large lot easier. I had been using a push mower and it took about four hours to cut the grass. He was a very good mechanic and he was proud of his restored mower. He  showed me how to start the mower and gave me a lesson on maintenance and safety. I was thrilled with the mower and for the next few months I breezed through the cutting process. The mowing became routine and I started to vary the cutting pattern.  I would cut zigzags and circles; it was sort of an early form of crop circles. When my dad returned home late at night he did not check my work until the next morning. I had removed all traces of my patterned cutting and he was proud of my work and was not aware that I was having fun during work.

My creativity proved to be my downfall one hot summer afternoon. I decided to cut my initials into field. I had a great time making the large block letters. When I had finished putting the final touches on the “I” the mower began to sputter and smoke. Apparently, the aggressive use of the mower as a sculpting tool had taken its toll on the refurbished mower. I checked the gas and oil and both tanks were nearly full. I pulled and pulled the starting cord and checked and rechecked the carburetor settings. In a panic I loosened and tightened screws. The final attempt was removing the spark plug. The wrench slipped and I broke off the tip of the plug. I was in deep trouble. I tried to remember my maintenance lessons as the sun set on my “fun project”. I was frantic and my dad would be home soon. I spent a sleepless night knowing that in the morning my dad would see my handy work and I would suffer his wrath. In the morning I went to breakfast. I received a cheery greeting from my mom and a stern  question from my father. “Did you finish the mowing” after a long and painful pause, I confessed that I had encounter a little problem. He looked at me and sternly and said “that is what you get for playing around”.  I will not bore you with the details of my punishment but I still remember it over sixty-two years later. 

It is both strange and prophetic how we remember and react to  little dramas in our life. I am thankful for that harsh lesson, it just made cherish the fact that throughout my working years I never separated work and play; and I still do a lot of “playing around”.

Whenever you trace the origin of a skill or practices which played a crucial role in the ascent of man, we usually reach the realm of play.

Eric Hoffer

"Things hidden in my head" Copyright 2013 © Ronald D. Isom, Sr.

Voyage

"Things hidden in my head" Copyright 2015 © Ronald D. Isom, Sr.

ISOM CODEX

The code key part one: the asemic solution

"Things hidden in my head" Copyright 2015© Ronald D. Isom, Sr.

Art of nature.

All of nature evolves out of simple geometric patterns incorporated within the molecular "seed" structure. Each of these basic patterns contains information that enables animals, plants, minerals (and humans) to develop into complex and beautiful forms, each with an intrinsic awareness of its location in space and time. Being part of nature, we have a relationship with it at the cellular level which is experienced vibrationally, and which is nurturing. When these seed patterns are incorporated into our architecture, a vibrational exchange takes place between the building and its occupants in a way that is similar to the connection we have with nature, and which leads to a sense of well being.http://www.archinomy.com/case-studies/1938/geometry-nature-architecture

"Things hidden in my head" Copyright 2015 © Ronald D. Isom, Sr.