It was four A.M. on an early February morning. No one was in the emergency room but Bill and Margarete. Bill was having difficulty breathing. Working seven days a week, trying to maintain a hectic teaching schedule had finally taken its toll. The ER doctor told Bill he needed to be in a hospital. Bill couldn’t afford the $12.00 required for admittance. They were sitting, alone, trying to figure out what to do.
Just then, a young doctor breezed through the hospital entrance. Turning to the receptionist he asked, “Who parked that bus out front? The one with all the paintings in it.” Bill’s Volkswagen had those big picture windows so that you could always see his paintings. Margarete jumped up. “He’s right over here. And he’s dying!” she exclaimed. “Well, we can’t let an artist like that die,” he said. “Just come to my office and I’ll take care of you.” Once again, when things looked bleakest for Bill, someone stepped up and offered him a helping hand. Think, for a second, what might have happened if, for the lack of $12.00, Bill’s story had ended in that emergency room.
Anita
As soon as Bill recovered he was back to teaching. You know Bill was always talking about the “almighty artist” and how his students were the greatest artists on earth. Anita, a petite woman with black hair, took him at his word. She saw Bill in the shopping center and soon became a student. She threw herself into learning and became so good she began helping other students in the class. At first, her husband supported her by building her a gigantic easel and helping carry her supplies to and from class.
Her husband became angry at Bill, though, because his wife was selling so many paintings. He was spending all his time babysitting their three children because his wife was always painting! Anita came to Bill for advice on how to handle this volatile situation at home. Bill convinced her to hold back a little on the painting and spend more time with her family. Bill cared so much about people and he had an uncanny understanding of their problems. It was impossible for him not to help in any way that he could. Anita worked things out so that she could continue painting, but also help more with the family. The family stayed happy and that made her painting even more worthwhile.
Classes
Whenever Bill and Margarete returned to Los Angeles they would get more new students. Bill immersed himself with his teaching. He held a variety of classes that would meet for as long as six weeks. These classes met for either morning or evening sessions and Bill demonstrated his technique. He held classes in galleries, art clubs, civic clubs and often in buildings he and Margarete rented. Bill’s teaching style was always the same. First he would create a complete painting – showing students each step in the process. Then he’d turn over the “almighty power” to them. He walked around the room and helped them finish their paintings. His students would take their paintings home with them at the end of the class. Everyone was welcome and Bill didn’t charge much for the classes, but it was more than some of the other teachers in the area. One night this got Bill into trouble.
An elderly gentlemen entered a class one evening. He interrupted the session and demanded to know why Bill’s classes cost so much more than other artists in the area. Margarete interceded and said, “…we do good work here. Why don’t you sit down and watch?” Plopping himself down in the front row like some kind of king, he folded his arms and with a scowl on his face began to watch Bill at work. After ten minutes he jumped up, began waving his arms and boomed, “YOU!” Everyone in the classroom froze. He continued, “YOU! are the person I’ve been looking for all these years. Now I know why you charge so much for your classes. Sign me up!”
This gentleman became one of Bill’s students. He set up his easel next to Anita. She would often help him with his paintings as she did many of the students. Later he opened an art gallery in Long Beach. He spent the rest of his life around paintings. Bill had that kind of an effect on people. He was genuine and his skill unquestioned. But above all, Bill had the confidence that came from years of preparation, study and hard, hard work. Bill was an unpretentious guy. He allowed his skill to speak for itself.
Bill’s classes were always fun and the students not only enjoyed painting, but they enjoyed the company of each other. The classes had their share of characters. Like Yvette, a modern and stylish woman, who always wore snow-white gloves to class. Then there was Mr. Aikman, who was a stylish dresser as well. He always came to class with his French poodle.
Bill loved his students. He always saw the best side of people. He brought out the love of painting in each of his students and helped them find their own creative power. “It’s the creative power in everyone and it’s natural,” Bill would often say. Bill had both difficult times, in Los Angeles, as well as times that were full of joy. Bill touched the lives of many people.
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