When the European illuminary artist, Sr. Alcaraz (SCRAPBOOK COLLAGE), saw Carroll's coloured pencil drawing of common Texas roadside purple thistles and how they were portrayed with the delicate, unequaled beauty of the Juliet Rose, he invited Carroll to Spain to study painting in an idyllic Castilian Spanish village in 1994. His experience in Spain with Sr. Alcaraz was so historically significant that he was invited to tell the stories behind the paintings to more than 525 audiences in the months after he returned to Texas: American Association of University Women at SMU, University of Chicago Alumni, Trammell Crow HQ (luncheon talks for accountants and attorneys), independent school districts (high schools, middle and elementary schools), 250 senior centers (independent living, assisted, and acute care --- where more than 50% were repeat performances) … Carroll was interviewed on radio and television programs --- and heard a chorus of tens of thousands demanding his paintings, stories, and poems be put in a book. Every day is full of life enriching atribuições e boa sorte.
"Most of our world's 'art' has no breath in it. It's rude mockery. Nevertheless, ... I used to call rural Chester Springs,
Pennsylvania home. Then, I relocated to Dallas, Texas. I'm no bellwether; I like authenticity and my blood is red."
"Alcaraz restored priceless, invaluable masterpieces inside the elite art museums, e.g., Musée du Louvre, Museo del Prado, The Metropolitan Museum of Art of New York City, the Château de Versailles, and irreplaceable treasures in prehistoric French caves and Catholic cathedrals throughout France and Germany. He told me how he trembled before a Rembrandt he was asked to restore, and in a dream he watched how to restore the great work, got up in the morning and just did it. Another night, in the centuries old shepherd's barn below Paco's living quarters, he opened a book of Picasso's 'stains' and traced his friend's brushstrokes with his finger to show me how the watercolors were made. Sr. Alcaraz taught me to do what no art school can teach. HSM The King of Spain knew this." Carroll sold his treasured stamp collection to pay for his trip to study with Alcaraz, a fine investment. He still oogles the 1868 Benjamin Franklin 1-cent Z-Grill and the 1918 Inverted Jenny #8493 plate block!
A painting aptly made is like apples of gold in settings of silver. PR 25:11
★★★ A Brazilian socialite in a Colonial family, that schooled in England, opened life-changing doors for Carroll, 100 years after her grandfather co-founded and presided over Clube de Regatas do Flamengo. She facilitated Carroll's painting studies with her famous artist friend in Europe. Carroll's first patron was a widely-respected quarter horse-loving, Phillips Petroleum Company heiress he "met by accident" in Friday afternoon bumper-to-bumper traffic, two weeks before he flew to Spain for art studies with D. Fco. Alcaraz. The legendary Texas W.T. Waggoner cattleman's family, that owned the largest ranch under one fence, and a whiz-kid telecom tycoon followed suit, along with more heiresses and various industry top guns!
There Is Still Good News
I grew up on a gentleman's horse estate where horn-blowing red coats fox hunted in Chester County, PA.
One day, I blew a young fox to smithereens with a high velocity round. When I walked on cornfield stubble
to where the animal quietly lay I was shocked to see the destruction I had caused. From the chest to its tail
was completely gone, with organs spilled, blood, bone, and muscle splattered like hamburger in a swath.
The fox feebly raised itself up on its front legs and looked into my eyes; Then, it fell stone dead before me.
I stopped hunting for sport on that very day.
After GEN Franks did the foreword to my first book, I interviewed 300-400 individuals in the military
community. I watched the 1998 film Saving Private Ryan, which took place on the deadliest beach in
the Normandy landing, on Dog Green. My dad was a Navy medic who landed on LST335 two hours after
thousands of men had been blown to smithereens. The movie, while it showcased the horror of war,
could never begin to approximate the blood and guts splattered sand, red tide water, mangled, charred,
smoking, and steaming bodies, like so much highway litter. How do you run a suture needle and thread
through raw hamburger as its life blood flows like an opaque tide obscuring your desperate hands?
The groaning mortuary, ghastly stench, and cries for help, the endless decisions of whom to walk past
and whom to try to save, amidst a cacophony of curses, the bodies stacked like cordwood for miles, ...
talk about vivid nightmares! My dad rarely called me by name. Instead, I remember his burning words,
"You stupid, worthless, bastard." But, that was how Pop saw himself on the battlefield. Utterly helpless.
I am a real man.
I do not work for applause, accolades, or approval. I paint better than I ever would for the US President.
Everyone has a fox moment.
(L) Soft Eyes. Botanic garden in Texas, 22" x 30." (C) Budding Scientists. Heard Center, McKinney, TX.
(R) Marine Sniper in Cornfield. Dairy farm by Hwy. 380 in Texas; The subject just returned from pheasant
hunting in South Dakota and borrowed his dad's black labs for the re-enactment.
Beauty in Essence
Bio: The Paintbrush Poet™
★★★★★ Carroll F. Burgoon, III, AKA, "The Paintbrush Poet." 800+ paintings in the first 25 years (1994 to 2019) ★★★★★
All rights reserved worldwide Ⓒ 2020 BELL-C
"I took a paintbrush into a gunfight. I'm a Philly boy who loves Georgia and Texas.
I observe hummingbirds. At 2x's the weight of a 50 Cal bullet one bird chases away THE enemy. Aim high. Win!"