Monthly Archives: November 2022

Most Memorable and True Advice

This octopus is making so many mistakes, but he’s out there trying his best!

Many people have asked me whether I went to art school.  Yes, I have a Bachelor of Arts degree in art from the University of Alaska, Anchorage.  I think UAA is a pretty decent State university.  I have studied at two others, and I think it was overall the best. It definitely had the best art building, and the other classes I took were better than the ones at Western Oregon University, and Western State College of Colorado, as well.  Maria and I live in a neighborhood called College Village, and it is only about a mile to the UAA campus, and only a mile and half to the art building. I wish I lived here when I was attending UAA — it would have been more convenient than the 4 miles it was to my Fairview condo.  I studied at WSC for one year, and then three years at WOU.  Neither are super well known for their academic standards, but I am not a super academic person, so it comes as no surprise that after four years I didn’t graduate.  It wasn’t until I worked as an artist for a couple years that I decided to go to UAA and finish my degree. 

Along my path through the academic system I picked up a little bit of wisdom and advice from mentors, some applicable to life, and some applicable directly to production of art.  A wise friend once casually imparted some of the most valuable advice — it’s all about showing up!  If you aren’t there, you won’t gain anything. I should have taken that one to heart at WOU when missing a few classes ended up in catastrophic failure. I was getting an A in history class and decided I didn’t have to attend the last few classes before the final.  The date to the final was changed, and I didn’t hear about it, because I wasn’t there.  It was worth 50% of the grade. I failed the class and my GPA dropped too low to continue with my scholarship. It was not good. You have to show up!  I can’t even count the number of times I have gotten a commission, or sold art, or booked an art show, just because I had shown up to an event.

At WOU, I took an art and business class. It was required to graduate. We had a guest lecturer come to talk about business. The one thing I remember him telling me, is not to go to important business meetings under the influence of drugs, or alcohol.  At the time it really didn’t seem all that important. I do follow this advice, even though I am the beer painter, I haven’t ever shown up drunk or high to meetings, even though the stress of waiting for some meetings made me wish I could.  I can only imagine how badly meetings could have gone if I wasn’t at my best when I have been put on the spot.

In sculpture class I got similar advice from the professor about working in the sculpture lab.  He was adamantly against using drugs, or alcohol when making sculptures. He said if he caught any of his students under the influence in the lab, he would fail us, and not let us back into his classes. He said for one, it is unsafe, like driving a car, power tools are dangerous.  And secondly, even if you aren’t using power tools, you can screw up your piece of art. He said from experience, one day he had been drinking and just wanted to get a little work done later that evening. He ended up screwing up the sculpture, and wasting many previous hours of work.  I found this to be true when Maria and I were building our log cabin. Right away, I learned to stay 100% sober when building with logs. I wasn’t using a chainsaw, or even sharp tools, but after I made a notch with a handsaw backwards when I had been just a touch under the influence of cannabis, I never did that again.  Logs are expensive, and even worse, getting hurt in the backwoods can be very very expensive, or even fatal.  So don’t work high, or drunk.  At least then, if you do make an error, you can’t blame alcohol or weed for the mistake.

Speaking of mistakes, it is better not to make them in the first place.  This is the final bit of advice I will share with you, that was imparted by a professor.  I was in the painting studio working on the biggest painting of my life at that point, and I asked the professor what she thought about how it was going, and if I could get any advice.  She turned to me and said, “Scott, I like what you have going on here, don’t f*ck it up!” I laughed at the moment she said it, but it also made me realize that it’s always good to stop and think about what you are doing.  Screwing up is easy, and you can do it without realizing what is even happening. Work slower, more methodically, and more deliberately, and hopefully that will help prevent screwups.     

So, to summarize, it’s all about showing up, don’t do drugs before doing any kind of work, and when you’re doing well on a project, don’t f*ck it up.

From Hating Baseball to Liking It

Here in Anchorage, Alaska school was canceled today, on November 3rd, because we got about four inches of snow on the ground. I find this a bit startling, because when I was growing up here, school wouldn’t be cancelled, unless there were over 11″ on the ground, with another 6″ or 7″ more on the way. I blame the new Anchorage School District Superintendent, Dr. Jharrett Bryantt, who recently moved here from Houston.  Not used to Anchorage winter, and I think he possibly celebrated a bit too much after the Astros pitched a combined no-hitter in game 3 of the World Series last night.  

All kidding aside, I’m not here to talk about Anchorage’s weather, even though it is probably the most beautiful day since last March.  I am here to talk a bit about baseball.  You may not know, but Clendaniels are crazy about baseball.  My brother has been the coach at Anchorage West High for three years, and the president of Anchorage West little league program for two years.  My niece, Athena Clendaniel, was the captain of the varsity baseball team her senior year in high school, and threw the first pitch at a Dodgers game in 2018 for the MLB girls Trailblazer program. My dad was always the coach for my brother’s and my teams in little league, and even my sisters had to play t-ball. My grandfather, Frank Clendaniel, loved baseball.  Grandma was trying to save money, but grandpa went down and signed up all four of his boys for little league.  The game Strat O’ Matic baseball predated video game baseball and all four of the Clendaniel brothers (my dad and uncles) played it vigorously. They spent every day at the park playing baseball with their friends. They collected baseball cards, putting the eyes out with ball point pens when their favorite players played badly. My dad’s Hank Aaron rookie card isn’t in mint condition, because of a bad series of games one year.  

My brother loves baseball, but I never really did growing up.  I remember being forced into it at an early age. About five years old and crying to mom that I just got hit in the face by a hardball.  My dad said, “Thank the ball for toughening up your hand,” when it stung in the glove. I didn’t mind t-ball so much, and coach pitch was alright, but when I hit the minors in little league, I really didn’t enjoy the game much.  My brother would trade me candy and cash to get me to play catch with him for 30 minutes.  My batting average in little league was .0 and I just didn’t want to pay attention out in left field where, if I wasn’t sitting on the bench, I was forced to stand.  I used to look for four leaf clovers in the grass. It’s no wonder I never caught a fly ball.  In 5th grade I still had to play baseball and I revolted by getting really sick. I had walking pneumonia, and ended up having to go on steroids to kick it. Truth was, I just didn’t want to play baseball, and I would rather be sick than go out and stand in left field.  If my dad loved baseball so much, why did I have this awful floppy glove that was 40 years old, and why were all the family’s baseball bats nailed back together, or held together with electrical tape? Fortunately I got out of baseball when I went to junior high. Baseball surrounded us, and of course the Mariners were destined to lose games.  Yeah, my parents are from Walla Walla, Washington, and really care if the Mariners win or lose. So, they are pretty much always unhappy during baseball season. 

Fast forward to 2005, and I moved into a sweet apartment building on 3rd and A St.  I wondered what the noise was that sounded like ghosts howling through the exhaust vent.  It turned out to be my lower neighbor screaming about the Mariners.  We became good friends with Dicker, and he invited us over for grilled salmon and to watch Mariners games. I like salmon, and Dicker grills it perfectly. Maria started to like baseball. I guess I learned some stuff about it when I was out in left field, because I was able to help teach her the rules of the game, when Dicker wasn’t explaining the finer points. We continued to visit Dicker for salmon and baseball for 15 years, until he moved to Washington. Our old condo apartment was close to Mulcahy Stadium, and we used to walk down there with Dicker to drink beers in the beer garden and watch the Anchorage Glacier Pilots play in the Alaska Baseball League.  Maria wanted to go to a MLB game, so she drug me to watch the Cubs play at Wrigley Field on a trip to Chicago.  We moved into this house a year ago, and Maria turned baseball on the TV and we grilled salmon. I don’t even care who wins, and I don’t really need to know the score or the inning, but for a guy who used to loathe the sport, I’ve turned into a fan. I like the noise of the game at this point more than anything. It reminds me of happy people around me. I feel like I am at home when I hear the roar of the crowd, the crack of the bat, and the chatter of the announcers.  

Maria’s first MLB game at Wrigley Field, Chicago, 2015

We have been watching the World Series, and the games have been pretty good.  I don’t really care who wins and I’m happy that the series is tied 2-2. At Dicker’s house, when we would go for dinner and games, I used to root for extra innings, because there would be more baseball, and more time hanging out with friends. The same is true about series games. If they tie up the series, then there are more games, and more salmon dinners to drink beer and hang with friends.  So, for a guy who used to hate baseball, I guess I have come around to loving the sport. Not because I participate in fantasy baseball, or even care who wins or loses, but I just like to feel like I am surrounded by fun times, and baseball brings me that.

I have been painting Christmas ornaments, and I just made one for the Phillies and for the Astros. I painted a baseball on the back of each one. The oil paint is drying, but they will be available at my Etsy shop very soon.