What does it mean to be an artist? Well, here’s a thought: WHO CARES? Not me, that’s for sure. You pick up a paint brush, you paint something, and BOOM! You’re an artist. Good for you. Sure, I could have been a doctor, or a nuclear physicist, or possibly even a toll booth attendant, but a) I’m not that smart, and b) I have no commercially viable skills whatsoever. Except for painting. So here I am.
Born in Glocester, Rhode Island where a man is a man, a woman is a woman, and babies are sent into the forest at the age of six months to be raised and educated by squirrels, I eventually broke free and went to Bates College in Lewiston, Maine. While at school, I majored in Studio Art, learned to paint photo-realistically, and was the cartoonist for the school paper. Two years after graduating, I wasn’t getting very far painting pretty little landscapes, so I started adding UFOs, aliens, and flying people to my work. Then came the penguins and the zombies. And sock monkeys and garden gnomes. And any other random thing that would pop into my head while I was holding a paint brush.
A common question: “Greg Stones, where do you get your ideas?”
From YO MOMMA, that’s where! BOOM! (I just dropped the mic and walked off the stage.)
In all seriousness, I don’t know where the ideas come from. Although I do suspect that Red Bull is involved. I will have to look into it and get back to you. (Editor’s note: He will never get back to you.)
Here is my favorite thing about being an artist: I get to write and illustrate books. Chronicle Books has published six of my titles since 2012, and I have just recently created a humorous Star Wars book for Disney entitled 99 Stormtroopers Join the Empire. (That’s right: a frickin’ STAR WARS BOOK!!! GAAAAHHHHH!!!)
Well, that’s all I have to say about being an artist and an author and a man who was raised by squirrels. (Little known fact: Acorns taste like sadness.)