Woman in Pink, oil - 2008

Sam Roloff has never been one to take a half-hearted approach to pursing his passions.  Educated at the San Francisco Art Institute in the early ‘90s, Roloff worked as a full time painter for five years following his graduation.  This was a highly productive time for Roloff, chocked full of constant creation and frequently traveling.  Roloff ran small working artist galleries in Bohemian hot spots in both the US and abroad, specifically San Francisco and Prague. 

During these paint-filled years, which happened to be at the height of the Mission School movement, Roloff took careful note of the trends evolving around him, yet steadfastly pursued his own style.  Working with thin layers of glazes, Roloff’s creative process involved applying paint to an array of materials and then selectively wiping the paint off.  The thin washes and smooth surfaces crept into several of Roloff’s painting series, including his most well-known, the figurative “Women in Prague” group from 1994.

And then suddenly, something happened.  Roloff fell in love.  Three years after returning from Europe, Roloff married his sweetheart, Cheryl, in his old San Francisco stomping grounds. A year later, they had their first child Max, now nine, and moved to Chicago. Their second son, Henry, was born three years later. In 2002, the Roloff family found their way to Portland, where they currently reside. Their daughter Amelia was born that same year.

Being a dad was serious business for Roloff.  Setting aside his palette, Roloff took a break from painting and has spent the last ten years devoting himself to his family and building his website design business, which allowed him to work out of his home. 

While Roloff loved focusing on his kids, the desire to paint never completely subsided. 

“There has always been the need to create and I just couldn't hold it back any longer,” Roloff explains. 

“Now that my children are getting older I want to make them proud, as well as have something to live for rather than just working to work.”

Untitled 01 - a study in abstract, oil - 2007

Roloff describes his sudden return to his craft as boiling down to a matter of timing. With his three children now all school-aged, Roloff was able to reinstate a home studio and resume taking art classes.  Happily, Roloff finds as much inspiration at home with his beautiful family as he once did in prestigious art school or circling the globe. He credits his children with bringing a fresh perspective and a sense of whimsy to his work, keeping his paintings fluid, rather than fixed and unchanging.

Darling Tonya, acrylic - 2006

Prior to my 8 year hiatus, I enjoyed shows and sales around the country. I could say I took a break because of the post 9-11 chaos, suffering two layoffs or having a second child (which is an art form in itself). But the real reason why I took a break was because in 1999 I sold an entire body of work to a collector in NYC off the internet. This was sort of unheard of 9 years ago when people weren't accustomed to viewing art on crummy computer monitors (even though we didn't know they were crummy at the time) and making purchases online via email without ever speaking in person.

That sale made me realize that I didn't know how to sell my art (which was an agonizing event). It put me in touch with all the messages that hounded me like: you can never make a living as an artist, no one will know you or appreciate your work until you're dead, artists are flakey and unreliable and therefore incapable of enjoying an abundant lifestyle. I knew from that one sale that those messages were bullshit and there was a way and I was determined to figure it out.

So, I physically quit painting and making art (even though I am constantly painting in my head…sort of like constantly playing piano with my fingers even though I haven't sat in front of a piano for years). I went off and learned how to be an entrepreneur. I studied all the various ways to sell over the internet from cheesy internet marketers to savvy internet gurus, from avenues like eBay, etsy.com and trunkt.org to creating all the mistakes new entrepreneurs make that usually involve large sums of lost money.

Heron Moon, acrylic, 2006

Now that I'm painting and showing again, my art continues to evolve just like it did in my head these last 8 years. I noticed that my technique and ability to manipulate materials has improved. I recently taught myself encaustic painting. It took about two weeks of vociferous swearing but I was determined to whip that testy beeswax into something I could call my own. I have a long way to go but am pleased with my fledgling efforts. I'm still drawn to abstract expressionism but feel a resurgence of my early years as an illustrator taking hold. I'm also noticing that my experience as a printmaker and photographer is wanting to root itself in my work again. I'm excited to see how all these friends will meet.

My studies and experience in the entrepreneurial world has definitely given me the skills to manage the business end of being an artist. Now I can talk about my process and my art. I can market and sell myself and my work. And while I've always been organized and able to handle production mode, this grounded confidence has made me more determined to prove all those cultural messages about flakey artists wrong. I don't believe that enjoying an abundant lifestyle and being a successful, living artist have to be mutually exclusive. What's fun is that my break, mistakes, lessons learned and constant search to grow has led me to call myself an artrepreneur with pleasure!

My career in the world of art was similar to that of an unseasoned, part-time explorer. I had the curiosity, passion and willingness to explore many genres that caught my attention, and spent my spare time researching, experimenting, and developing my skills. My love for nature and ties to Native American culture strongly influenced the subject matter. As my skill as a photographer, basket weaver, and mask-maker grew, I introduced my art to co-workers, friends and family. Many encouraged me to sell my work, but I was reluctant to present it to the world.

Eventually, with the support of my friends and growing fans, I jumped into that unexplored river with a leap of faith and offered my art for sale at flea markets, a consignment shop, outdoor art shows, and Sunset Publishing’s annual employee Christmas art shows. To my joy and great surprise, art collectors started to buy my art. Through that exposure, I sold many pieces of art and accepted requests for commissioned items. It was at that point I stopped wanting to be an artist – I had become one.

Taking the Break
Born with a restless, searching spirit and a need to be close to nature, I explored northern California, rural places in Oregon, southwest Montana, and the deserts and mountains of Arizona and New Mexico. My search finally led me to the high desert of Bend, Oregon where I purchased a home on a half-acre in a Ponderosa pine forest.

During my three-year stay in Bend I taught a few art classes, visited galleries, talked to established artists, and volunteered to assist at a gallery on First Fridays. Bend was a beautiful, inspirational place to live and the bug to create was tugging at me again.

At one point, I considered picking up my dusty camera to resume my love of photography. I considered painting again. I considered basket weaving and mask-making. But nothing appealed to me. It seemed to be a time for introspection and soul-searching, so I spent a lot of time walking and exploring the high desert. Finally, after two years of lying fallow, the artistic juices began to rise and I was suddenly inspired to create a very unusual style of mask. Led my that inspiration, ina period of three months, I created “First story Teller”, a 24” round sculpture-collage.

When “First Story Teller” was finally completed, I was very excited about the results, but also felt like all of my energy had been sucked out of me. As suddenly as the inspiration hit, the passion disappeared and left me feeling barren. The dreams and visions of life I had held on to for most of my life had disappeared in the blink of an eye. I was unable to create.

Coming Back for a Second Round
At the end of my third year at Bend, I made the decision to sell my home and leave “place”. I moved to Portland Oregon to be close to my family.

Unfortunately, the move did not sitr up the creative force in me nor did it yield hat I wanted. Life continued to be a depressing, challenging experience and I saw little reason to celebrate the darkness I felt. My long-time passion for art had retreated into the darkness of my spirit and I did not think it could be retrieved.

Yet even while these feelings followed me like a lumbering, dark cloud, there were unseen forces at work that would son awaken me from my nightmare, give me life, and rekindle my passions.

My friend and former business partner, Adrienne Fritze, had started teaching a new workshop, the Guerilla exhibitor, and invited me to take part in it. I resisted committing to the workshop for awhile, but with Adrienne’s firm insistence, I agreed to give it a try. The only thing I had to lose was time…and time is what I had a lot of then.

The second day o the weekend intensive is when I had my first big breakthrough. We were working on our artist vision statement—which seemed strange to me since I no longer considered myself to be an artist—but I went along with the plan. As a result of several inspirational conversations with Adrienne, she led me through the maze and I found myself. It was then that I realized my life an art were synonymous. All that my life was about was what I wanted to share through my art. My expression of life was art, and my art, my life. Hence my vision statement: “As an artist I am a channel for the awakening of spirit, love, compassion, and joyous play.”

Something Different From Before
I rediscovered the love and passion of creation and am now creating acrylic paintings that oftentimes shock me. I had no idea I could paint like this! I am more willing to experiment, to try different techniques, different canvas boards and sizes, and combining media. I am learning how to play with my art and to allow the “mistakes”. I am learning once again to love what I am doing. I am more organized with my time, have had the experience of an amazing exhibit with my granddaughter, and am beginning to sell my work again. I have discovered many resources for supplies, venues and for marketing.

It is easier for me to “let go” when I create. The medium I use is much more responsive than what I used before, and makes the physical process much easier on my body. I am getting bolder and beginning ot find ways to let my emotions express themselves in the work. I am still challenged at times with technique and subject matter, but love the entire process—when it works and when it doesn’t work!