After Dad died in February of 2022, we received an outpouring of love and connection from friends and family members. They all wanted to share their Sam Adams paintings with us. Some we had never even seen before! He may be gone, but his memory lives on in these incredible works of art.
He loved religious themes, the mountains of Colorado, aspen trees and landscapes. He had Native American Indian periods, Thomas Kincaid periods, and clearly some pretty psychedelic cloud formations that surfaced at some point.
Dad taught me a lot about drawing as a kid. He said, "Draw and paint what you see.." He was a good mimic of other artists and didn't like to draw free-hand. If he could see something that already existed, he could reproduce it.
It's amazing that dad's eyesight failed him as he suffered from macular degeneration, but he continued to paint. His hands would shake and it was painful to hold a paintbrush, but he continued to paint.
You can see how the paintings evolve; sometimes blurry and out of focus. Sometimes shaky and smudged. And towards the end, the pictures were very childlike and messy. It was amazing to see crystal clear paintings from long ago resurface with barely recognizable renderings of the same images. They are all treasures. My sister Jules and I are so very proud of this collection. I've made a book for our mom, Rita, as a Christmas 2022 gift.
On the anniversary of his passing, please enjoy this digital gallery of that book. There’s not a lot of commentary. The paintings speak for themselves. Maybe save this blog to pull up on your computer so you can see the details, not just the tiny thumbnails on your phone.
This was painted for Tony and Jackina Stark over 40 years ago and hangs in their home.
A version of the same landscape was done for Suzi Steinbeck in 2014. And way later it seems he painted another version as his eye sight was failing.
These have been hanging in our home for as long as I can remember. I wish they were dated.
The next 5 Indian paintings were all made for my aunt and uncle Johnny and Lovada Romero.
Dad used a picture of Alicia Romero, his neice, for the face in this painting. To me, it looks so much like Alicia's daughter Marie.
This was my Grandma Rose Romero. It’s dated 2015 and she passed May 2, 2014. I kind of love that this painting looks unfinished and a little ghosty. Grandma and Dad shared a birthday of August 19th. They were always very connected to one another. I also love that his signature and date look like a flower design on her top.
And now the Crosses… Towards the end he churned these out for so many friends and family. He couldn’t see, but the images were blazed into his heart and the muscle memory of his hands.
Another favorite painting Dad gifted to people was The Mount Of The Holy Cross. This mountain is in the Sawatch Range of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. Dad coached football in Sawatch and he was obsessed with capturing the snowfield crevice shaped like a cross. It’s worth googling to see what it really looks like in nature.
This is one of his very best paintings that hangs in our living room in Joplin, Missouri.
I remember my dad painting this one when I was a little girl. The buffalo’s shadow as an Indian is such a subtle but powerful image.
This was a painting for our cousin Raymond Romero and it ended up on a Christmas card designed by his sister Angela Romero Bennett for the Columban Fathers in Nebraska. Every time I look at this one I see something new. Dad loved to source old barn wood to make his frames. This one is a beauty.
Our friends Roy, Karen, and Jackie Jones tending to their prized Angus cattle.
Garland Of Fruit With Crucifix.
This one hangs in my apartment in New York. I'd given my dad a museum card to paint years ago. I was home in Missouri and I saw it sitting on his easel and the card was propped on its side. He had begun the painting and it also seemed to be on its side.
I called dad over and flipped the card to stand vertically. We went round and round about if it should be horizontal or vertical. I won out (as that was the true orientation of the original painting.) You can see how the 'weight' of the grapes changed from resting to being suspended.
I love this painting for the memory of that conversation as well as seeing the change in his perspective of reproducing the painting. It's a shame the museum card cropped out the crucifix, dad would have loved to have painted that.
Dad continued to coach and paint despite his disabilities. The football players would carry him and his walker down to the field and he'd sit on the sidelines. He couldn't see very well, but he was such a pro, he just needed his ears to hear the wind on the ball to know the spin, direction and yardage of the kicks and punts. This was a painting from a photo of him coaching Cory Duley, one of his favorite Webb City kickers.
I adore art museums, art installations, art exhibits. Thank you for scrolling through my digital gallery of Dad’s work. I knew when I made the book for my mom that I wanted to share it as an All Good Things post. Thank you to everyone who took photos of their paintings and sent them to me. I hope it was fun for you all to see your Sam Adams painting in the context of a bigger collection.
Growing up with an artist father, I learned many lessons that I carry with me today. I learned generosity. He loved giving his paintings to others. I learned that when something doesn't look right in a painting, hold it up to a mirror. Mirrors tell the truth — in life and in art. I think the biggest lesson I’ve learned is to embrace my gifts and passions and to continue expressing myself artistically no matter my circumstances.
One year after Dad’s passing and I honestly only get sad when I look at these paintings. I compare and despair the ‘good’ ones against the ‘not good’ ones. They are like a map of his decline and suffering. It has not been a year of grief, I still wake up to relief every day that his misery has evolved into something else. I’m grateful that he finally found a way to let go.
I don’t really have a solid opinion on the afterlife, but I hope Dad is painting somewhere with no pain, perfect eyesight, steady hands, and a peaceful heart.