Secretariat Teaches Oil Painters

The Disney movie, Secretariat, demonstrates the collaboration of two art forms, music and film, that combine to create  an irresistible artistic moment.   I wish I could create these moments in oil paint, but I fall short by 32 lengths--Secretariat's wining margin at the '73 Belmont Stakes.

The crowning scene of the movie swims in Edwin Hawkins's song, O Happy Day, and adds the psychological and spiritual punch that has brought many viewers to tears.  Secretariat's owner Penny Chenery, played by Diane Lane, wins over all adversity, and crosses the finish line of faith with the great horse.  It's a great story and worth watching.  The actual event carried tremendous weight in 1973 and needs little embellishing to have effect  40 years later.

"O happy day when Jesus washed my sins away"....."He taught me how to fight and pray"... and so on.  What does a horse race have to do with Jesus washing my sins away and teaching me how to fight and pray?  From a theological perspective it has to do with the answer to every prayer, the fulfillment of every hope and dream, the making plain of every good and just cause. All who watch the movie Secretariat are carried to victory in a cinematic moment--good stuff.  I want Jesus to wash away all of the superficial crap that my art portrays, and I want Him to teach me how to fight and pray for what is true and good in art--to say nothing about my corrupt soul!  As representational oil painters let's learn from this story and try to paint a few irresistible moments of our own.  That's it in a nutshell.  Watch this clip, then watch the movie, or re-watch it, and tell me what it does to you.   See ya down the road--Don

http://youtu.be/0lcbcIArMW0

Fuller Seminary Remembers Don Hatfield '73 Graduate

Alumni/ae in Action

Different Strokes:
Fuller Alumnus Takes Up a Call to Paint

Fuller graduates use their degrees to pursue callings as scholars, theologians, psychologists, and leaders in mission and ministry. But many have heard God calling them to other arenas. For alumnus Don Hatfield (MDiv '73), that arena has been the visual arts. Based in Napa, California, Hatfield is, as expressed by one art gallery, "one of America's greatest living impressionist artists"--with paintings displayed in galleries in several U.S. states, as well as corporate and private collections around the globe.
For Hatfield, painting is not merely a hobby or even a job; it is his God-given vocation. Moreover, it is one that he heartily enjoys: "Most of the time I am so happy I can hardly stand it!" he declares. But he is the first to point out that the path to discerning his calling was a long and difficult one.
The seeds of Hatfield's art were planted during his time at Fuller, when he befriended a local portrait painter who took him under his wing and affirmed his artistic gift. Despite this fruitful mentorship, however, Hatfield felt the need to leave art behind upon graduating from seminary, focusing instead on pastoral ministry and providing for his family.
"Art just disappeared from my life," he recalls, "but I continually went to museums and looked at art books." Then, almost 10 years after his graduation from Fuller, Hatfield experienced a life-changing moment at the Art Institute of Chicago while viewing a painting by artist Giambattista Tiepolo. The beauty of that painting evoked in him an epiphany: Art was still his central passion, and he felt called to become a full-time artist. Relocating his family from the Midwest back to his native California, Hatfield obtained more training, and diligently worked for several years to achieve the impressionistic style for which he is now known.
Reflecting on the winding road leading to his present vocation, Hatfield recalls a painful time of rejection from pastoral roles that, he says, "fueled my anger at God and man" and caused a confused sense of his calling. After a season of healing, he now identifies himself with Moses, who in his youth was "spiritual, discerning, and anxious to follow God's will. He cools down for 40 years, and then returns as an old dude to Pharaoh's court with God-given authority," describes Hatfield in his straight-talking style. "Like Moses, I have the beard--a goatee; I have the holy stick--my art; and I have God-given authority--the Holy Ghost!"
Though he acknowledges the difficulty of following God in the face of doubts and a lack of understanding from others for so many years, Hatfield says that through the challenges, he has grown in his vocational discernment. "It's a slow learning curve," he believes, "but the end is greater than the beginning in our great quest for Christian vocation."
Hatfield now sees his life through the lens of grace, acknowledging that mistakes are part of the process. "Don't let your failings disqualify you from your God-appointed vocation," he urges those who are still seeking their call. "Vocational discernment is a state of grace and may not lead to a nifty job tag. It is about keeping your mouth shut and doing the 'big obvious thing' in your life--all else will follow."
Looking back at the twists and turns in his own personal path that led him to impressionist art, Hatfield describes God as the initiator and himself as the receiver all the way. "I did not seek God in this life--he sought me," he affirms. "I did not believe in God--he believed in me. God discerns us--we don't discern God. It is God who aligns us with himself."
For this, Hatfield feels both humbled and grateful: "How God gets through to us is a mystery and a miracle, isn't it?"
To see Don Hatfield's art, visit his website at www.donhatfield.com.

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Thursday Morning At Hatfield Studio

Daughter Rachel, new born Alex, and Eva and Ariel.  I am painting this beach scene for a friend.  It's 9am and we are headed out for a new age totally organic, vegetarian, vegan, low cholesterol, no MSG, totally green breakfast--mimosas, cigars, and ice cream with some chrispy creams for desert.  Gotta love it!  Don

First Visiting Artists To Hatfield's New Studio

Dan Munday, the great California landscape painter and friend were checking up on Don Hatfield to see if he was OK.  He received them with some caution.

UPDATE FROM HATFIELD VILLAGE

Eva just gave her sister, Ariel,  an unsupervised hair chop--no bangs!  Rachel, my beautiful daughter,  is due soon, I am relaxing at the condo pool, but still feel a little squeezed, and my grand daughter, Eva, is in her diva pose.  I am painting whenever I need money and hanging out with my kids and their kids.  Janey is into her second round of chemo, and life is sweet.  Her lack of fear or negativity freaks me out sometimes,  and its strange how our love has grown through these times--these really are good days for us.  I am actually getting some momentum in the oil painting arena.  I love my tiny studio and all of the beautiful amenities at the Vintner's Association Condos in Yountville, CA--which is the true center of Napa Valley.  I am three blocks from the golf course and practice range, 50 yards from a beautiful lap pool/hot tub complex, two blocks from downtown Yountville with its cluster of world class dining and tasting rooms.  The little market supplies all of my ice cream and tobacco.  I still have to drive into Napa proper for a good buy on paper towels--dammit.  I am ten miles from my gym which is two gallons of gas round trip which equals $250.00/month.  I can walk to a gym in Yountville so I am thinking about making the adjustment.

I get ten requests a month for art work, but I have two collectors who buy everything I can paint, so that is a blessing.  Art is a great friend in your old age.  If you have to make a six figure income to stay afloat, then art stops and production begins--those days are gone forever--thank you Jesus.  The American representational art scene with its magazines, books, tapes, workshops, seminars, associations, paint outs, paints ins, societies, gatherings, and web articles seems very distant and unimportant now as we await the total collapse of our economy and culture.  Thought I would share this feeling with you all--just in case.  Most of you know by now that I am a true prophet--right?  I am seldom right about anything,  but a dear friend said to me the other day,  ".....Don,  you seem to have the ability to see around the corner."  I like that guy--very perceptive!  Anyway, have a nice day.

Have a nice day.  I hate that phrase and all of the sub text it implies.  But I am going to stop here before this rant turns really weird.  So.....who still loves ya--how do ya like me now?  Don

Reflections on Cancer

I just read Siddhartha Mukherjee's "Emperor of All Maladies",  a biography of cancer from ancient times to the present.  He calls his book a biography instead of a history since cancer is this immortal thing with a personality that lives within all of us, and when this entity gets pissed off--it just goes crazy and kills you from the inside out--thank you Hollywood for all of the images!  This reading was quite an effort for a hypochondriac who could not even say the word "cancer" without a queasy sence of dread.  Mukerjee was no help--he is a Pulitzer Prize winning stylist who is a real phrase getter and whose literary oddities and crudities magnify cancer in all of its creepiness.  Who needs sex scenes for page turners when you get to peer through the lens of medical science straight into your own mortality--or the mortality of those you love the most?  Anyway,  I just returned the book to the in house library at Martin-O'Nielle Cancer Center where Janey, my sweet wife,  is in her second round of chemotherepy. 

I have cancelled workshops and classes so that I can stay home and fulfill my assignment as a 24/7 care giver.  I finally wake up each day knowing exactly what I am supposed to do--care for somebody besides myself.  I call it structured giving, love in a template, or automatic holiness--anyway it has simplified my life. 

Janey's fight against cancer is all about me.  I am freaked out, panicked, scared shitless, and a few other things.  Janey, meanwhile, has not missed a beat.  She loves her cancer center with its boutique shop, beauty salon, massage therepists, volunteers, chaplins, pharmicists, chemothepists, sugeons, and patients.  From her custom chemo infusion lounge chair she looks out to the mountains surrounding beautiful St. Helena ("...aren't they pretty...")  or blabs with new and old friends who are likewise conjoined in the battle of the ages.

Janey has a big life and a big fan base.  I get to direct traffic as phone calls, meals, gifts, and condolences pour in.  I have learned that many well wishers check in on Janey to see how they are doing.   She was wiped out for a few days after her first infusion because I failed to administer the correct drug protocol--my bad--my really bad.  But she is doing very well--faith is alive, miracles are happening, and love is prevailing.   Talk to ya later, Don