Olga, your son is drawing very strangely. I think it is best if we have a meeting at my classroom to discuss his artwork.

My kindergarten teacher, was very concerned about my recent drawing I had created for Halloween. Apparently it differed strangely from all the other students artwork and Mr. Shumate was worried about my psychological health.

On the day of the meeting Mr. Shumate asked my mother, “So Mrs. Morineau, which drawing do you think is Omar’s?”  He had ten children’s drawings in a line up pinned to the corked section of the classroom wall.

My mother very easily determined which drawing was mine. She raised her hand and pointing directly at it. She knew her sons style of drawing and how it stood out from the others.

“Yes that’s it. Don’t you find it peculiar compared to the other kid’s drawings?”

All the other children’s drawings of pumpkins were wobbly flat circles colored clumsily with orange crayons. They each had the typically shaped black jack-o-lantern eyes, noses, and mouths.

Mine on the other hand was the complete opposite. The pumpkin’s skin was black and ribbed with grey shades that pinched the contours of the pumpkins oval body. The stem that protruded from the top cutting was curved and shapely tapering as it exited the interior of the pumpkin’s top. The facial features, a mismatched pair of eyes, its triangular nose and a toothy smiled mouth where color filled with gradients of yellow and orange. They also had the shape mimicked slightly inside themselves.

“Well lets go ahead and ask him, he’s right here after all,” my mother suggested with a concerned tone of voice. “Omar, why did you color the pumpkin black and make the other parts brightly colored?”

“Mom, thats because when the jack-o’-lantern is outside at night the pumpkin is black because you cant see it and when the candle is lit inside the eyes and nose and mouth glow from the flame.”

“And why did you draw the shapes twice inside of themselves?” she continued to inquire?

I responded proudly, “Because when you cut the pumpkin’s out it’s thick. So thats its thickness showing.”

As a very shy imaginative boy, I rather preferred staring out windows whilst day dreaming rather than socializing with the other kids. During my classes at Fairlands Elementary I would usually be sitting quietly alone, drawing my imagined fantasies along the borders of my binder paper seams.

On one such typical class day during my fourth grade class, a few classmates walked up to me as I sat drawing an epic battle scene of knight in medieval armor fighting a gang of undead skeleton warriors. They were quite impressed with my work and began to give me attention along with words or praise. One in particular was so impressed that he offered to buy it off me with his lunch money. That began a lifelong friendship that endured a very very long time.

It was after that, that I had started to get invited to birthday parties and out play more often than before. As a young child, art was everything to me. I created friendships through it, developed my self esteem, and broke through the limitations of my shyness with it.

Miss Redding showered me with so much praise at when I was a 2nd grade student at Fairlands Elementary School. I was so intent on becoming a better little artist because of her nurturing encouragement.

She was a slender red headed teacher with curls that tumbled past her shoulders. I had truly believed with all my heart that she was a fairytale princess that had enjoyed coming down from her tower just to spend her valuable time teaching us little peasant children.

Often, she would have me stand at the front of the classroom by her side, while all the other students sat cross legged on the carpet before us. She would then ask me to share my most recent drawings with all the other children.

The drawings would be of Garfield, a Ninja Turtle or perhaps even a Ghostbuster. She would open the floor to the other children so that they could delve out comments, give compliments or ask me questions.

This attention allowed me to be more comfortable in front of other people and shed my shyness. The reward of people noticing me through my artworks propelled me forward to challenge myself and create even more difficult drawings. All because Ms. Redding noticed me and allowed me that time and that spotlight amongst the others.

Harvest Park Middle School really began to open my eyes to the possibilities of what art was able to bring into my life.

There were a few classes in particular that taught me about serigraphy and computer technology that lit up my mind and imagination.

For example, the school had just afforded to purchase an automated silk screen maker. That meant I could create designs directly from the computer or by scanning my artwork, then the machine would automatically create a silkscreen in about an hour. From there I was able to squeegee as many prints as I desired onto t-shirts or posters.

That technology led me to studying vector art and its importance in the commercial landscape. Vector art clearly allowed me to see the correlation between art and geometry and the inseparable fusion between them. Again, because of Harvest Parks forward thinking, they had the expensive computers and software to allow me to pursue those interests.

Harvest Park Middle School taught me by way of example why it is so important to attend  a school that believes in investing in atypical arts and also the willingness to invest in state of the art technologies. Being exposed to these technologies at such a young age made me more inquisitive and capable of seeing the possibilities.

I have to also give Pleasanton Middle School praise in this regard even though it did not have the privilege of attending it; I was very excited at the time to discover that when they did open up that they had a fully stocked airbrushing studio.

Mr. Frankina had a public school setup worth envying. He had two fantastically large art studio spaces. One was for conducting his drawing classes and the other was completely dedicated to ceramics. Outside were two massive kilns for firing clay. He even had a private office space that students were forbidden to access. In fact, it was a real sense of promotion if you were invited into his private office and I’ll never forget the times I was allowed to hang out with him there and chat about art and life.

I quickly established myself as Mr. Frankina’s Teaching Assistant; It was actually a goal of mine as soon as I met the man and realized that there was a TA opening. While he performed his art lessons and his art students followed along, I would stroll around from one student to the other  student helping to  assist them individually. The students surrounding me would intently be followed every one of  his hand movements being telegraphed from the overhead projector or from his television and linked up VHS camera.

Being the Teacher Assistant had a number of perks: I was given a spare set of keys that granted me access to the art classrooms whenever I liked, I was allowed to use all the art materials that I could ever need for free, and I was able to socialize with overtype of personality I could imagine. Looking back, what mostly sticks out was all the fond memories of playing jazz and creating in those spaces alone.

More importantly though, Mr. Frankina instilled in me the wisdom that, “when you teach others, you teach yourself.” Over time, I came to understand this profound lesson. The more often you teach to a diverse amount of individuals, the more powerful your teaching abilities become as they evolve.

You recognize that knowing a subject also encompasses the misunderstandings, the issues,  and ignorances surrounding that subject. Like a doctor identifying an ailment, their knowledge of the surrounding issues would be pertinent to making a correct diagnosis.

Effective teaching involves anticipating a students’ needs, predicting their misconceptions, and proactively addressing obstacles. By embracing this philosophy, teaching transforms into a symbiotic process where both the educator and learners grow together.

I am forever thankful to Mr. Frankina for all his trust and wisdom. He truly was my initial inspiration to becoming an art teacher.

While attending Harvest Park Middle School, located in Pleasanton, I had a crush on one of the most popular girls. I would spend a lot of time drawing big Disney posters for her. The drawings would be of the main characters falling in love. Think Aladdin and Jasmin staring into each other’s eyes as they flew across the world on the magic carpet. Nearly every week she would have another poster to take home with her and I would have more art to start and practice.

Her mother would see these love inspired drawings that her daughter brought home and was apparently impressed enough by the drawings to commission me to paint signage on her business windows. It turned out that her mother owned a Nail Salon off of 2nd street and the window art would be great for advertisement.

On one of the days that I was working on the window art, the mother’s brother arrived and saw me painting the windows. He in turn was impressed and decided that I was worth investing into. He purchased several $100’s of dollars worth of airbrushing supplies so that I could learn airbrushing with the hope that I would go on to create airbrush art on cars and trucks. He was also a business owner and owned a car detailing shop near Valley and Bernal Ave.

After teaching myself how to airbrush with him as my financial backer, I was able to make money painting t-shirts, signs, and vehicles.

I owe the whole Maselli family of Pleasanton so much gratitude. The daughter inspired me to make and improve my art out of teenage love. Her mother hired me, paid me well, and gave me confidence to go on to paint windows for other businesses. The uncle invested in my artistic skills and introduced me to the airbrush which fantastically assisted me throughout my artistic career.

During my high school years at Amador Valley High School, also located here in Pleasanton, I was given numerous opportunities to express my interest and talents in art.

Under Brian Ladd, the leadership and civics teacher, I was elected the MultiCultural Commissioner of the school which allowed me also to produce art for many of the school clubs, branches, sports, and social events.

During lunch time in my Junior Year, he approached me and asked, “So you’re the school artist?. We can really use your help in the student body. Care to run as MultiCultural Commissioner?”

By this time I was already heavily involved in clubs and wrestling on Junior Varsity, but not having heard much about the student body before, my curiosity was piqued.

I was the Chess Club President & the Latino American Student Organization President. I was officially given title as the School Artist in my senior year and was published as so in our 1998 year book. All these venues allowed me to use my artistic skills to create t-shirt designs, letterheads, banners for varying school organizations and events.

More importantly, they also gave me access to the school administration, staff members and monetary funds that allowed me greater levels of responsibility and accountability.

On a warm Californian winter day during my senior year at Amador Valley High School. Unlike many of the other students, I was 18 and officially an adult. The Pleasanton school district had a thoughtful age policy that allowed children born in November and December months to be held back during their kindergarten years so that they would not be the youngest of their class; this of course was to mitigate any bullying.

Being 18 while still attending high school lent some fantastic advantages to those students that were also capable of being responsible and not abusing power. One of which was the capability of excusing yourself from classes in order to go surfing. I was an avid surfer in my younger years, although never talented enough at it to ride the big waves. I topped off at about 6 foot waves and an 8 foot long board.

“Mr. Omar, are you going surfing today”,questioned the lovely receptionist that I was well familiar with at AVHS. She was the mother of one of my school mates and I worked had closely with all of the office staff and administration of the school since i was a part of the student body, wrestling team and the extracurricular clubs that I participated in.

“I’ll be out for personal reasons today but will surely be fine to come in tomorrow,” I replied with my best Ferris Bueller impression that I could muster.

I prepared myself for a healing and holistic day of surfing and was just driving pass the school when abruptly my pager went off. It appeared to be the phone number of one of the other commissioners of the student body with the ominous 911 attached. Since I was right there at my beloved high school, I pulled over and entered the front loop parking area to the school entrance.

“I thought you weren’t coming in today Omar?”, the fair receptionist inquired. “Seems there might be an urgent issue that I have to attend to” I retorted. I asked the receptionist for the location of the other student commissioner and found them at the art building where Ms. Xenickos ran her drawing classes.

At this point in my high school career I had not once taken a class with her. I had primarily focused on ceramic wheel throwing with a the schools tiny little Chinese Master Ceramicist that had powerfully thin arms and spoke very little english. She would instruct by saying things like, “no blup blup” which meant keep your clay even while when rolling it out into coils.

Ms. Xenickos was also a female artist with a tiny frame. The football students towered her and her Greek accent was a starch difference to the valley girl talk of the female students. I entered her class and greeted her. It turned out they had an art emergency and that I was to be the savior.

The school was elected to showcase artwork on the the famous Sports Focus program that was to be broadcasted in two weeks. The student that was to do the artwork had completely fumbled the opportunity and drew a binder paper sized sketch of a little gangster rapper character with a baseball bat.

Ms. Xenickos was furious! She had given the boy plenty of time to design and create something appropriate to reperesent our school, but he had slacked off completely.

Having explained all this to me, and having then excused me from all my classes for the next two weeks, she had me immediately get painting. I created a door sized painting roughly 8 feet tall and 3 feet wide illustrating a Spaniard Conquistador, which was of course our school mascot, but rather than wearing traditional Spanish armor of the early 1500s, he donned armor that resmebled football gear. He was proudly equipped with a sword shaped as a baseball bat, a chain mace that dangled a spiked baseball, tennis ball, and football. He had a proud goatee and an open faced morion.

I had recently garnered new airbrushing techniques so much of the painting I could complete more rapidly than I was previously capable of and I successfully someplted the work before the deadline. The painting was filmed by Sports Focus and broadcasted later that week. I was very proud of that experience and the friendship that I developed with Ms. Xenickos. We would often greet each other in the mornings there after and have a latte together along with conversations of art and life.

During my education at Las Positas Community College, I was able to work under the brilliant Master William Paskewitz whom taught me the fine art of oil painting and  educated me in the history of art.

When I first met him I immediately asked him if he was accepting any apprentices. He expressed to me that he was unable to at that time since he had just completed his second apprenticeship.

Later in the early part of that semester I met one of his dear friends, a wise elderly Hawaiian woman with wavy silver wind guided hair. She was part of his eclectic crew of about 9 older folks who attended every one of his oil painting classes each semester. They were a tight group of friends that traveled three times a year together on the art tours that he would organize for all his students and friends.

During one of our classes she whispered to me that his last apprenticeship was actually three years ago. He was no longer taking an apprentice since the two he previously had disappointed him greatly. “You see Omar, taking on an apprentice is a lot of dedication with lots of expectations. You don’t pour your soul into someone without expecting them to use the skills you teach them.”

I didnt understand that at that time. It’s something you can only learn a posteriori after you have your own apprentices. It takes a large quantity of your heart.

Regardless of not immediately becoming an official apprentice, we established a close relationship. I would often visit him at his home and studio in Antioch and work beside him as he taught me the artistic skills that he didn’t often go over in his regular classes. Whats unique about an apprenticeship is that you learn the lessons you need to learn when they present themself in the moment just before your eyes.

He would assign me major private and public commissions ranging from $200 – $6,000. These would be murals for businesses, for family homes, or hand painted signage. Often he would pass on clients to me desiring a portrait of their dear grandmother, their wedding day, or even their beloved pet. Part of being an apprentice is taking on work assignments and proving your skill and determination.

In my second year studying with Master Paskewitz, I traveled with him for 12 days visiting 35 of the most important locations and museums of Italy. When standing under the oculus of the Pantheon, he pointed to a coffin in the northern radius of the building. “Omar, thats where the great Raphael is buried. Every time I come here I go and pay my respects. Let’s go.” I followed him over as we walked to the coffin protected behind a sheet of glass and we kneeled before it. I mimicked him as he placed his palms together and out of respect whispered a prayer. He then raised himself up and kindly spoke saying, “If it improves our art, then it’s worth it.”

My experiences with him Italy inspired me to eventually live and study art in Florence Italy. Of course he had also advised me to do so, reminding me that all your achievements in art, not just the paintings you make, will eventually have others take you more seriously as an artist.

Each weekend, while I was still a brave young man, I would venture off to Santa Cruz to hit the waves. I was just starting out on a short board that I had recently purchased. It would be my first time on a board measuring at about 5 feet.

I quickly found out that it was much more difficult than a long board. Short boards barely supported your weight when sitting in the water; a long board would keep you high above the water. When paddling, a long board would easily glide on the surface of the sea, but a short board dragged under tow requiring much more upper body strength. Then of course, if you could actually catch the wave, the short board would react to every fine movement you made requiring you to have even more balance and control. A long board was the complete opposite and was much less reactive.

Well my first day out on the short board was torturous! I struggled and was unable to even catch a wave except to be nearly drowned about by it. After a few hours, I headed back into shore. On my way up the stairs of the hook at 42nd street, A blue eyed and bronzed out surfer dude approached me. “Hey I saw you out there on your short board,” he said.  “Yeah, it’s my first time on one and I thnk I underestimated it a lot,” I replied.

He then went on to explain that he was a surf teacher and that he wouldn’t charge me for the lessons but that he wouldn’t mind teaching if I truly wanted to learn. I decided to take him up on it and called him the next time I ventured into Capitola. I’m not sure why he was so kind even to this day, but I like to think it was because he saw that even though I was struggling, I was working really hard and putting my all into it.

After our first session he invited me over to his home where I met his hippy wife and beautiful toddler twin daughters. “Hey, want to see where I shape my boards?” He asked. He guided me to his backyard where he had a two portioned shed filled with a bunch of foam blanks and a shaping area with shaping tools.

“Hey Barry, I can airbrush these and we can start a surfboard business!” I suggested. “Let’s give one a go and see what happens,” he replied.

Since he was a surf teacher and had clients coming in from all over the world, he would show his surf clients the board we made and would find clients. His surf students, often traveling business men or professional surfers would describe what they would like painted on their surfboard and I would get going on the design while Barry shaped the board. After the client approved the design and the board was shaped, I would start on painting the graphics before the fiberglassing process.

We turned out a good amount of surfboards at a profitable price. Whats more important though is how much respect and inspiration that Barry gave me. He was one of the most generous and influential men of my life. I appreciate the lessons and time I had with him.