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09/10/2007: "The Perfect Moment" by Ellen Fisch
There have been perfect moments in my life that I have pressed in my mind for future examination. Times when my kids were small. Times when I was a young adult or even an older one. Each of these moments is significant and wonderful in its completeness. Pure happiness. There are not many of theses gems committed to my memory. In my painting there are fewer. I rarely have a perfect moment of happiness in my work. Sometimes the result of a long struggle with a painting produces satisfaction with parts of the completed work. Occasionally, I feel uplifted when someone is touched by my efforts. But pure happiness? YetŠ..I keep working towards that goal: perfection in my work. I think that as I get older, the idea of improvement towards the result of creating a good work if not a perfect one, drives me more than anything else. 
When I was a student in college and in grad school, my head was filled with dreams of accomplishing great feats in art. Although I was not sure what exactly these art feats were, they would be rewarded by fame and fortune. My paintings would hang in prestigious museums and I would get paid large sums for my work. It seems from my present vantage point that I was more concerned with fairy tales than the actual nuts and bolts of art. School fostered these dreams and certainly, the '60s/ '70s era during which I was a student elevated artists to celebrity status. Artists were then what pop culture icons are today. It was a great time to be an art student. I was envied by my peers who were studying more mundane subjects that would actually prepare them to make a living. I loved every minute of taking classes towards my Master's at New York University. Just being in Greenwich Village during the late '60's/early '70's was a Paradise for an art student: so much to see and do. A lot of frantic craziness, too. Dabs of color on a canvas were deemed "great art" by my professors. Of course, during that time, there were exceptional institutions and extraordinary teachers. NYU had/has a fine reputation. Perhaps I did not have these professors or I was just blinded by the times because any spots of paint on my canvases were awarded star status. At any rate, I was on my way to being "an artist" through the praise of my teachers. Until I graduated and tried to sell the masterpieces I had created in my student days. I discovered that there were thousands of other artworks of my peers for sale, too. Some were, in fact, actually GREAT ART. One perfect moment was enrolling in The Art Student's League in 1972. That is a wonderful memory: a place that promoted teaching art exclusively by artists who were passionate about their art and students. I learned a lot about composition, form, structure. I also took a job as a structural draftsman. More composition, form, structure. Soon my paint dabs became shapes that actually related to each other. I would not change a thing about my education because it created a need to learn and a drive to succeed. When I was in my 30's a met a great portrait artist: Murray Miller. The moment I entered his home where his family portraits were displayed was perfect. Seeing portraiture by a master and speaking with him about his art was an experience I will treasure. You will not see his work in books or on the web, but he had commissions by many wealthy individuals. Murray taught me about representational painting. Before he died, he tried to impart to me the knowledge of a lifetime. I was extremely fortunate to have known him and to have been the recipient of his instruction. Once, when I did a pastel portrait of a dog, Murray told me that I had done a good job. "For me, your student?" I asked. "For any portrait painter," he responded. That was the only compliment he ever gave me in the five years we were together, but it was perfect. To be called a portrait painter by one whom I revered was deeply gratifying.
The elusive perfection in my work keeps me going. Most time I settle for the completion of a process or project. However, now and then, an idea or work captures the moment. One perfect moment motivated me to seek these perfect moments and to value them. I took an elective in geology as an undergrad. On a field trip, in a cave, I saw a single drop of water illuminated by bright, golden sunlight fall into total darkness. I thought to myself that if I could capture such a perfect moment and communicate it to others, I would have a true purpose to my life. Once in a while, a great while, the dream comes true.
