Robin Williams and Me

I watched Robin’s Wish today. He has always moved me a lot for some reason, being in some of the most creative movies ever, being completely out of control, and also the gift I had of finding my life casting instructor had cast Robin Williams, Whoopie Goldberg, some presidents, various actors and dancers. The exhibit was for everyone so the molds of their masks were all accessible so you could touch them. I mean, Whoopi, I touched richard Nixon’s face, Gerald Ford, tons of people’s casts were there.

So I just spent a few moments with each one at the exhibit. I remember the torso casts of a couple of prominent dancers. One body had little tangible muscle but was instead so sensual. I ran my hand up her body from her hip to her breat, and it was such sensual art.

But when I got to Robin, as soon as I touched his face, tears started rolling. I just put my palms on his cheeks. With the life casts the plaster remembers every pore and scar, your uneven nose, how dry your lips are, the expression on your face (and if it moved) while the plaster dried.

After I composed myself I laughed because Gerald Ford’s head was massive next to Robin’s, and Whoopi’s was even smaller. She has a tiny head.

Anyway. I miss Robin. He made me feel at home when I got to touch his face in Irving Texas that time.

Categories: Uncategorized

Kellie Snider, MS

When I was a young child, my father, my grandmother, an uncle, and a teacher noticed and complimented my talent and interest in drawing. My family didn’t know how to help me make a career in art, but they made sure I knew that my art was a good thing. I was fortunate to grow up in a time when the arts were still considered an essential part of a well-rounded education. I had a very good art teacher in elementary school, and I was able to continue studying art throughout middle school and high school. I even ventured a couple of years of college-level art study.

My education in art did not include the business of art, so I went off and got a traditional job as a draftsman, the kind that drew with pencils and templates on sheets of vellum, spread across massive desks. (I always named my desks Carlisle.) I worked for an oil company, a shipyard, a power company, and for NASA’s Johnson Space Center TV Department. I was there during some pivotal moments in space history. I also met the man I would marry. I stayed home to raise our kids for a few years, and while doing that I worked as a freelance writer and did some freelance art as well. But then I got a deep interest in animal behavior thanks to an aggressive cockatoo we had, got an advanced degree in behavior analysis and launched a career in animal welfare. That career lasted nearly 15 years, and it nearly did me in. The burnout and compassion fatigue was overwhelming.

When I was laid off from a director’s position in animal welfare during Covid Times, I began to paint to help ground myself. People began to show an interest in my painting and I got many requests for commissions. That was when I realized that I could learn the business side of art and be a real live artist full time.

I have never been happier in my professional life. I wake up every day, have a lovely cup of tea with breakfast, and head to my studio. My days are rich and peaceful. I’ve come home for trained as a behavior analyst, but I am what Barbara Sher called a Scanner. I'm interested in a lot of different things, and once I learn a lot about them I'm ready to learn something new. But all the things involve somebody's behavior. This blog is about how behavior and different activities intersect.

Constructional Approaches will be discussed a lot.