Keyword: ocean

  • Pretty Darn Great

    “Pretty Darn Great” by Jason Kotecki. 40 x 60. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    This shark is awesome. You can tell how awesome he is by his gold teeth. Obviously, the male sharks want to be him, and all the ladies want to be with him. The fact that he is a success is a foregone conclusion to everyone.

    The joke is on the shark, though, because these teeth are not long for this world. You see, sharks continually shed their teeth (some shedding approximately 35,000 teeth in a lifetime!) That’s a lot of lost bling. What a shame!

    The tragedy is that gold grill or no, he already was great. He just didn’t believe it.

    I don’t know about you, but I make this mistake all the time.

    I chase after shiny objects that don’t last to prove my worth, even though deep down I don’t always feel so worthy.

    When I was in seventh grade, I would have given anything for a pair of Air Jordans. I didn’t feel cool, but I was certain these shoes would make up for it. I never got them. It’s just as well, I guess, because they wouldn’t have fit me a year later. 

    Back at the turn of the century, Apple came out with the iBook. The lime green one was awesome. I printed out a picture and put it on my vision board, imagining that my possession of it would make me hip and trendy. Never got it. Of course, if I still had it today, it would be little more than a decorative doorstep. 

    I have dreams of owning a Porsche 911 convertible someday. I think they are beautiful cars, and I love driving convertibles (my dad used to have one). But can I be honest? Sometimes I wonder if the real reason I want it is to have something to show everyone how great and successful I am.

    Now, my faith teaches me that I am wonderfully made in the image of my creator. Frankly, it’s a little hard to believe, most days. After all, I wear bifocals now. My hair is thinning. I eat lots of gluten. 

    Interestingly, my perspective changes when I think about my own kids. Are they perfect? Hells no. (They take after their old man after all). But they are great. It’s not hard at all for me to see their amazing qualities. And the kind of shoes they’re wearing has nothing to do with it. 

    Why is it so easy to see the positive traits of others and so hard to see them in ourselves?

    There are people out there who are a little too big for their britches. But even in those cases, once you collect a certain amount of wisdom, you realize that all the bombast and overconfidence are merely masking their own unworthiness.

    Indeed, most of us are overwhelmed by our flaws and sell ourselves short. We believe the TV and magazine ads that tell us we need to fix this, tuck that, and acquire the new gizmo to feel complete. I don’t know if you can relate, but I often feel suffocated by thoughts that I’m not enough. Not smart enough. Not talented enough. Not brave enough. Each one is like a weed, crowding out the truth. 

    The good thing about this feeling of “not enough” is that it helps us make room for God. His power is made perfect in our weakness. He picks up the slack and nullifies our deficiencies. We are truly in danger when we think we can do this thing called life alone. 

    You and I, we are already great. And not in some lame, everybody-gets-a-participation-trophy way.

    First, some perspective. Do you know the odds of you even being here? Dr. Ali Binazir crunched the numbers, and when you factor in the probability of your dad meeting your mom…

    …and that they stayed together long enough to have kids…

    …and the fact that one of the 100,000 eggs your mom produces in her lifetime…

    …met the one of the 4 trillion sperm your dad made during the years you could have been born…

    …there is a 1 in 400,000,000,000,000,000 (1 in 400 quadrillion chance) of you being alive.

    The chance of you being attacked and killed by a shark is about 1 in 4,000,000.

    Statistically speaking, you are a miracle. Having beaten odds like that suggests there is a reason you are here. And indeed, there is. You have something to offer that the world needs.

    You see, the real reason for your greatness is that you were purposefully and wonderfully made by a loving God. Within you – amidst any so-called flaws you dwell on – is a spark of something divine. That, my friend, makes you priceless.

    “When I was a child my parents loved me not because I was good but because I was Madeleine, their child. I loved them, and I wanted to please them, but their love of me did not have to be earned. Neither does the love of God. We are loved because we are his children, because we are.”

    – Madeleine L’Engle

    You don’t have to keep trying to prove yourself. You can just be. 

    You may not be perfect, but you are already great.

    Gold teeth or no.

  • Time For S’mores

    “Time For S’mores” by Jason Kotecki. 24 x 30. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    The background of this painting comes from a photograph I took during a family trip to the Pacific Northwest. It captured a holy moment.

    You see, in our family, when the sun has taken its final bow for the day, and the moon is set to take the stage, it’s time for s’mores. 

    I suppose you could have s’mores during afternoon tea, and of course, there’s no rule against having them for breakfast, but it just doesn’t seem right.

    You may disagree with me on the proper time for s’mores, but one thing is certain: making s’mores demands that you make time for s’mores. 

    It’s not something you just throw together. You have to gather the chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows, which aren’t as conveniently handy as eggs and milk. You have to build a fire, which requires wood and kindling and matches, and the patience required to nurse a spark into a full-blown fire, especially if the wind is conspiring against you. You have to get the sticks for roasting said marshmallows. And most importantly, you have to set aside the space to make all of this happen, because it won’t schedule itself, and there’s no rushing it if you want it done right. I’m first in line for a burnt marshmallow, but a perfectly toasted one takes no small amount of time and patience. 

    Time and patience.

    Two rare and very limited resources in our fast-food, drive-thru society, where we pack our vacations so full that upon our return home, we exclaim our need for another vacation.

    To make time for s’mores, you must be willing to put down your mobile devices. You have to turn down invitations to partake in other, more thrilling activities. You must set aside time for what seems like nothing. 

    And once you do all that, the real magic happens. Your heartbeat slows. You notice just how many stars are in the sky (have they been there this whole time?!). The smoke from the fire seeps into your clothes and your bones, making you feel like you lived this day well. Stories begin to emerge from the past, followed by laughter, and content smiles savoring good memories. New legends are born, while old legends grow mighty in stature. Talking about the olden days often leads to dreams for the future, and those stars suddenly become pretty handy for wish-making. 

    This, to say nothing of the s’mores themselves, which are deliciously gooey and sticky sweet, but nothing compared to the benefits they brought forth, in the form of conversation, contemplation, and connection.

    In a world that feels like it’s bursting at the seams, too rushed, too noisy, and too demanding, it’s always time for s’mores. 

  • Leap

    “Leap” by Jason Kotecki. 20×16. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Why is it that so many of the people who have found success in America are first-generation immigrants? One big reason is that many of them came from a place that is not so great. They saw America as the Land of Opportunity, and they pursued it with a definitive focus and relentless persistence. They were willing to leap from the known to the unknown.

    A big reason people don’t chase their dream is that where they are now isn’t half bad.

    They give up the dream and settle for the dreamsicle.

    A dreamsicle is sweet and alluring and very tempting. It’s the option most people go for, with its safety, comfort, and surface-level perks. Because of that, you wonder if you’re crazy to even consider abandoning it.

    The dreamsicle is the lifestyle that ensures you need to keep your current job for as long as possible.

    It’s the boyfriend who checks all the boxes except for the one that matters most.

    It’s the job that impresses your parents but gives you Sunday Night Dread.

    But eventually, it leaves an unsatisfying feeling in your stomach. Like maybe you shouldn’t have settled for something so easy.

    When I first started my business, the prospect of dealing with taxes, paying for my own health insurance, and being solely responsible for the revenue (or lack thereof) felt daunting. Turning down a steady job with killer benefits and staying in a crappy apartment for eight years seemed ill-advised at the time. Now it’s clear that it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

    Any time you break away from the crowd and do something different is scary. The leap into the unknown requires us to be the leaders of our own destiny.

    But nothing is ever as rewarding or satisfying as chasing the dream in our hearts.

    The dreamsicle is not the same as the dream.

    Is it time for you to leap?

  • Looking for Orcas

    “Looking for Orcas” by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    I’ve heard that God always answers prayers. Sometimes the answer is no. Sometimes, he says yes in ways that seem like a no.

    During a family vacation in the Pacific Northwest, one of the things I wanted to see was an orca.

    We heard stories of a mama and her baby being spotted in Puget Sound. We kept our eyes peeled on the ferry ride to Victoria. Our vacation home was on a bay on the Olympic Peninsula, and every wave in the distance seemed like it could be a killer whale in the process of surfacing.

    We never saw one. We could have booked a sightseeing tour, but time and weather, and the ages of our kids conspired against us. Maybe next time.

    As I have reflected on this minor disappointment, and through the act of creating this painting, something occurred to me. God knew I wanted to see an orca, but because he knows me so deeply, he also knew why I wanted to see one, before even I did.

    I had to stop and ask myself, Why did I want to see an orca in the wild?

    I wanted to experience God’s creation in a powerful way.

    I wanted to see something I’d never seen before.

    I wanted to have a remarkable experience with my children.

    I wanted a neat encounter with an animal.

    As it turns out, I did all of those things, and I never saw one orca.

    I marveled at the breathtaking vistas of Hurricane Ridge.

    Our vacation home was on a beach filled with thousands of crabs. Never saw anything like that before.

    Between our mountain hike, the ferry rides, the view from the Space Needle, and a spin on Seattle’s Great Wheel, there was no shortage of remarkable experiences to be shared with my kids.

    And feeding some harbor seals with a $2 bag of fish heads was a pretty neat animal encounter.

    I didn’t get what I asked for. But somehow, I still got what I wanted.

    Time and time again in my life, I didn’t get things that I asked for. 

    I thought I wanted to marry a brunette. God knew what I really wanted was a beautiful, smart, and thoughtful wife who believed in me. He also made her blonde.

    I wanted to use my art to make a living and shine light and goodness in the world. I asked for it in the form of being a professional syndicated cartoonist. That never materialized. But here I am, using my art to make a living and shine light and goodness in the world in a way that I never could have imagined, but I am excited to say is even better.

    Sometimes we miss the answer to our prayers because we’re looking in the wrong place.

  • Imagination Can Take You Anywhere

    “
    Imagination Can Take You Anywhere” by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    In my family growing up, I was always the art guy. Today, I make a living painting pictures, telling stories, and writing books.

    My younger brother Dan was the science guy. He now works for a cancer hospital analyzing and improving “systems,” or something structured and boring like that.

    I always saw us as complete opposites, which is how I think most people see art and science.

    Yes, my brother and I are different, but I was also decent at math and enjoyed doing experiments in chemistry class. Meanwhile, he had a pretty good drawing talent that went under the radar. Today, he collects Pearl Jam posters because he appreciates the art.

    I was so locked in to looking at the difference between us that I never noticed the connections.

    Artists are thought of as free-spirited, open-ended, and subjective. Scientists are often viewed as analytical, precise, and objective.

    But Science is not cold, rigid, and unfeeling. Art is not some frivolous, fluffy extra. Believe it or not, they are connected.

    Curiosity and Imagination are the parents of both art and science.

    The same curiosity and imagination that is present when an artist creates a new play, sculpture, or piece of music is present in the best scientists as well. We imagine space travel, and curiosity asks, “How can we make that happen?” We imagine a world without cancer, and curiosity asks, “What hasn’t been tried on this particular strain?” Curiosity asks, “How can we become more energy independent?” and our imagination gets to work on thinking up a whole bunch of possible solutions, ranging from the far-fetched to the less so. Sometimes solutions are hidden within an idea that seems completely preposterous.

    This painting was inspired by my first trip to Vancouver, and by a quote often attributed to Albert Einstein: “Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.”

    Imagination is often seen as a peculiar skill set of children and the pastime of daydreamers. Mildly amusing, but hardly practical for a self-respecting adult. Too often, our imaginations fade as we grow older. We stop asking questions and dreaming big. We reward the rule-followers. We search for and obediently follow the best practices.

    But in a changing world, what worked before will not get us to where we need to go. There is no roadmap. No formula. No step-by-step manual to help us succeed tomorrow.

    The well-worn paths we’re used to treading now only lead us astray, to a world that no longer exists.

    So what now?

    We must stop looking at science and art as opposing forces.

    We need to realize that we are all artists. Working in paint, charcoal, or clay is not required.

    And likewise, we are all scientists. Even if we don’t wear lab coats.

    If you are stuck, or have a sneaking suspicion that things could be better in your life, your relationships, or your organization…you are right.

    The way forward is to imagine a better reality, the future we wish to create. And then we tinker our way there, by trying things that might not work and using what we learn to guide our next steps — even small steps — forward.

    Imagination. It’s not just a plaything for children.

    Dust yours off. It can take you to some pretty amazing places.

  • Wind In Our Sails

    “Wind In Our Sails” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    This painting was inspired by a family vacation to Mexico. One thing that was abundantly clear in the week we were there is that the Mexican people love their color. When you’re accustomed to everything being Pottery Barn beige and gray, it really stands out. 

    I wanted to incorporate that vibrant, whimsical color, along with one of the culture’s great traditions, Dia de Muertos, or Day of the Dead. I think it is a beautiful way to look at the afterlife and the ancestors who went before us. I appreciated the idea of seeing death as a part of the life process, rather than an end in itself.

    I also liked the focus on how much we owe to the people who came before us. In American culture, the independent spirit of the individual is celebrated. That’s fine, as far as it goes. Except that there is no such thing as a self-made man or woman. No one becomes successful by themselves. Yes, your unique talents and a fiery self-determination are key ingredients for success. 

    But life is a group effort. 

    I was thinking about the people in my own life who have passed away. Not just family members, but teachers and coaches who served as mentors, too. Every one of them taught me something that I carry with me to this day. 

    My Grandma K. made me feel like I was special, just as I was.

    My third-grade teacher, Mrs. Smith, encouraged me to take my artistic talent seriously.

    My Little League coach, Mr. Dawson, helped me believe that I was a winner.

    When I was an uncertain teenager, Deacon Vince saw me as a grown-up with valuable contributions to make.

    Each of us is like that tiny sailboat. At times, it can feel like we are drifting, alone, on a vast and overwhelming sea. 

    But we are not alone. 

    We have the wisdom, given to us by the people in our lives who have gone before us, charting our course. They have touched our lives, and their examples live on, showing us the way.

    And their words live on as the wind in our sails, guiding us into a bright and colorful future.

  • The Captain

    “The Captain” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    I present to you a painting I made of a pirate ship sailing in an ocean of milk amidst floating Cap’n Crunch cereal.

    I thought long and hard about conjuring up some deep meaning on this one. Something that would make you shake your head in amazement and say, “Wow. He is a truly brilliant artist and thinker.”

    But you know what? There isn’t any deep meaning. The truth is, I was thinking about Cap’n Crunch cereal, which I love, and thought about a tiny pirate ship sailing in a bowl of it, which would be neat. But then I thought, what if the ship was normal-sized and the whole ocean was milk and it had giant pieces of Cap’n Crunch floating in it? That would be weirder, and possibly neater. 

    So that’s what I did: gave myself over to pure whimsy.

    As we get older, Adultitis takes over and kills our whimsy. We grow increasingly skilled in the art of taking ourselves too seriously. And all that seems to bring us is anxiety, stress, and a life totally devoid of fun. 

    We’ve mastered the ability to make the trivial monumental. We fret about all sorts of things, from gas prices and elections to how we’re going to kill those weeds in the yard and what we should wear to next Friday’s function.

    Becoming more responsible is one thing. But losing our sense of whimsy and taking ourselves too seriously is another. 

    I have long admired people like Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl because they created magical characters and worlds that are so rich with whimsy. Their art depicts preposterous, physics-bending, imagination-stirring images and scenarios that exhibit a ridiculousness that is wholly original and entertaining. Meanwhile, within the context of their art, all of it comes across as completely normal. How did they do that? 

    It can be hard for me to give myself over to this pure, unadulterated nonsense, which I consider to be the unfiltered essence of the spirit of childhood. As someone who often errs on the side of practicality and reason, I have always wished I could be more like Dr. Seuss and Roald Dahl. After discovering Adultitis and its evil tricks early in my adult life, I have spent my life trying to get back to that level of creative abandon. Back to normal.

    And yet here I am, having created a painting that exists at least within the same universe as those two greats, frustrated because I cannot come up with words to explain the meaning of this painting. 

    Because there isn’t one. 

    And thankfully, I think to myself, “Well, finally. Some progress.”

    It took a while to become an expert at taking yourself seriously; it will take a while to get back to normal. Give yourself permission to start.

  • Life’s a Wave

    “Life’s A Wave” by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    The familiar pit formed at the bottom of my stomach like a butterfly battle royal on pay-per-view. It developed after my mom answered the phone and told me it was for me.

    When I was younger, I was afraid of just about everything. New situations always brought an enormous level of anxiety, and phone calls delivered a special level of dread.

    It was a classmate on the other end, asking if I wanted to come over to play.

    For most people, this would be great news, not a situation worth getting nauseous over. But I was not most people. I’ve never been keen on having my plans changed at the last minute. I had a whole day planned of doing nothing ahead of me. Not to mention, I’d never been to Chris’s house before. Talk about a new situation! It was clearly a sensory overload too treacherous for a lazy Saturday.

    I quickly mumbled some excuse about how my mom wouldn’t let me today and hung up. “Whew! That was close,” I thought to myself, eager to return to my regularly scheduled day of surprise-free comfort.

    Only one problem: my mom heard.

    She ordered me to call my friend back up to tell him I could go. Gulp. That wasn’t at all embarrassing! “Hey Chris…hehe…good news…”

    The thing is, I ended up having a great time. There were many similar situations in my childhood in which my mom shoved me out of the nest, and I almost always enjoyed it. Eventually, I started to make little leaps on my own. At some point, I decided I didn’t want to be an 80-year-old guy looking back on my life, wondering, “What if?”

    The fear of regret became worse than the fear of the unknown.

    Life can be a spectator sport if you want it to be. You can watch the action standing safely on the shore. It’s the best way to minimize risk, avoid failure, and stay comfortable.

    The only problem is that it’s not much of a life.

    The real action happens out in the surf. To ride the wave of an amazing life, you have to be willing to leave the shore.

    Sometimes you have to take the plunge into parenthood even though you don’t think you’re ready.

    Sometimes you have to cash in your rainy day fund for a venture that might not work.

    Sometimes you have to book that trip today, because you never know how many tomorrows you have left.

    I cannot guarantee that you won’t wipe out now and again. But the bumps and bruises that accompany a wipeout are more tolerable than the deep ache of wondering “what if?”

    What wave is it time for you to catch?

  • Build Something Wonderful

    “Build Something Wonderfull” by Jason Kotecki. 16 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    We went to the funeral of a friend’s mom recently. She died suddenly of a heart attack while at home with her husband, who was only into his second week of retirement. When my father-in-law Gary heard the news and learned that they were both in the same age range, he reflected, “Wow. I guess I’m really on borrowed time.”

    He’s right. But not just because he was diagnosed with severe rheumatoid arthritis in his twenties and probably hasn’t had a pain-free day since then. And not just because he continues to amaze his doctors with how long he’s been able to keep on going. He’s right because we are ALL on borrowed time.

    That becomes obvious when we hear of sudden heart attacks and car accidents. When we are faced with stories of tornadoes that drop out of the sky, ending lives at random, or see the aftermath of troubled souls who decided children are suitable targets for acts of terrorism.

    Life expectancy may be 78, but that doesn’t mean we can expect to make it there.

    Gary is on borrowed time. I’m on borrowed time. And so are you. The real question is, how are we investing this time we are borrowing?

    By watching more TV? Keeping busy with activities that don’t really matter? Staying put on a career path we don’t really like?

    Or are we building something wonderful by living with a sense of urgency and making hard choices that lead to a better story and a lasting legacy? 

    The choice is yours. But hurry, the clock is ticking.