The Papa of all Artists: Million Masterpiece

Don't let the long hair and bad (ok, grumpy) attitude fool you, Clayton is User Friendly. It's just that chances are your call or visit or existence interrupted his planning. What is he planning, you might ask? The short answer would be things of beauty. The long answer is almost impossible to determine as his inspiration can take many forms.

When we first met, as awkward, shy girl and bored-to-tears-&-destruction boy, the planning took the form of elaborate pen and ink or pencil drawings, that is when he wasn't just planning junior high mischief. By high school, he discovered that mischief just took time away from art, as well as his other love, me. It was in high school that Clayton began to paint. Encouraged by Ms. Judy, who was more art than teacher, he began to seriously push the levels of his ability, allowing his art to take the time it needed.  

At the end of high  school he found his way to a now lost trade school to learn graphic design. It was there, while learning the many tricks of the advertising trade, except how to deal with people, that he started down the path that leads us to the computer painted photos and computer generated graphics. 

Which brings us to today. Clayton found out recently that his submission to the Million Masterpiece was selected to be in this year's calendar. While this is a great honor, seeing the finished piece printed is to lose the most amazing part of his submission. The Million Masterpiece gave artists and anyone else who wanted to submit a chance not just to create and be displayed, but to show the process as well. 

When a piece is created in the Million Masterpiece all of the steps to creating the piece are recorded. In Clayton's work "Well Dug Well", he explores the the myths and legends in New Mexican history that underlie it's quiet, ranch life style. Buried in the memories of the local people, buried in the local ground lies the troubled history most try to forget.

You never know what you might find, if you go digging in New Mexico. I suppose all places have their secrets, some just more than others. The basement of the hotel Clayton grew up in was a burial ground. He knows this because it was his great grandfather who dug the basement and moved the bodies of the faithful. 

Who knows what else lies beneath the surface. The garden we turned was filled with rocks and arrow heads. When the pioneers went out and tamed the land, they missed a spot. 

Peace,

Theresa