Rodney Wood and Brett Andrus, the subjects of our cover story starting here, have both enjoyed accomplished and dynamic careers. But at 64, Wood has been at it a lot longer than his 37-year-old friend, and has shown in galleries as widely renowned as the Harwood Museum of Art in Taos, and as far away as Denmark.
So it's notable that when he speaks of his reasons for making art, for when it all feels worth it, he sets the scene right here, in the alley galleries that Andrus runs with his wife, Lauren.
It's 2012, and Wood, a Colorado Springs refugee, is back in town for a solo show at Andrus' Modbo and S.P.Q.R. Things are winding down after that evening's opening reception. It's midnight, and the alley is quiet. Then there's a knock at the door, and a family outside wishing to come in for a quick peek at the show.
"Nothing about them looked like art people," Wood recalls with a smile. "I don't think anyone was wearing any black."
The foursome swings through the room, but it's Dad who's taking his time. Despite the hour, he carefully inspects each piece, on his own, quietly. The family members then confer between themselves and make to leave. The father thanks Wood.
"'These are amazing. It's as if these paintings have a heart,'" Wood recalls him saying. "'And they're beating so loudly.'"
Recalling the moment now, Wood's eyes are misty. He can only whisper, "Success."