DIY History | Transcribe | Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries | Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

Page 044

P. C. Lopham - the high school superintendent - was among the first who helped to direct the setting of the stakes along the way I was to follow. There were others too, who followed in his footsteps in the next consecutive years bordering on to high school, who drove more stakes to half define the pathway I was to follow. First of all among these was Prof. Charles Atherton Cumming - a Santa Claus character with his knickers and his airdale dog (this was a day when knickers were very uncommon), his rotund little abdomen, his white goatee, kindly eyes and benevolent mein. He was a portrait painter of fine representative example. It was he, this good man who took me into his studies and talked to me by the hour. He it was who filled me with ideals, with art and the Old Masters - Velasquez in particular - and whetted an already sharpened ambition. The philosophy of the masters, their approach to art was usually the topic but occasionally the topic centred about me. Moreover it was he who taught me that rules in art are only made to be broken. One does not paint by rules and regulations. He also tried to teach me to get my paint on the canvas where I wanted it but he never was able to teach me to get it on the way I wanted it. This little man was opposed to having me get married - not that he objected to [?]. He was opposed on the grounds that matrimony ended a painting career. His reasoning contained a fallacy because he began

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P. C. Lopham - the high school superintendent - was among the first who helped to direct the setting of the stakes along the way I was to follow. There were others too, who followed in his footsteps in the next consecutive years bordering on to high school, who drove more stakes to half define the pathway I was to follow. First of all among these was Prof. Charles Atherton Cumming - a Santa Claus character with his knickers and his airdale dog (this was a day when knickers were very uncommon), his rotund little abdomen, his white goatee, kindly eyes and benevolent mein. He was a portrait painter of fine representative example. It was he, this good man who took me into his studies and talked to me by the hour. He it was who filled me with ideals, with art and the Old Masters - Velasquez in particular - and whetted an already sharpened ambition. The philosophy of the masters, their approach to art was usually the topic but occasionally the topic centred about me. Moreover it was he who taught me that rules in art are only made to be broken. One does not paint by rules and regulations. He also tried to teach me to get my paint on the canvas where I wanted it but he never was able to teach me to get it on the way I wanted it. This little man was opposed to having me get married - not that he objected to [?]. He was opposed on the grounds that matrimony ended a painting career. His reasoning contained a fallacy because he began