Louisiana Wildman

Only a few things I can guarantee: Mama birthed me on good earth - the shores of Bayou Terrebonne, in 1958, only a clam shell throw from the best French bread bakery in Houma, Louisiana. Paw Paw and Daddy introduced me to the Bayou art world when they skillfully sketched and oil painted for hobbies. And all of my art work and writing is original, for sure.

 

I lived a boy's life climbing willow trees until 1981, the year I married Judith. I clung to the branches for two years after Judith and I graduated from LSU, then like a ripe pecan, I suddenly fell to earth as a full-time artist and seasonal crawfisherman.

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I commercial fished the Atchafalaya Basin, holy waters that fed a magical place called Belle River. A place where crawfish grew large as lobsters, but they tasted buttery and sweet naturally. Rather than using my BS degree, I plowed the Basin waters, my skiff loaded full of purple crawfish sacks, tied tight so no crawfish could escape. I fished each year when the Atchafalaya River flooded The Basin in January until the Gulf of Mexico sucked out the water each 4th of July.

 

On stormy days I stayed home and filled art orders, and once the Basin dried up in season, I traveled the Southeast exhibiting my original prints at juried art festivals. What a wild life! Judith tells everyone, You can't keep Danny out of a boat, and he loves the swamp. She tells me, You're a wild man, my Louisiana Wild Man.