Return to main page

As a teen-ager in Chattanooga, Tenn., Leon Colvin did a lot of looking. That's what artists do. They watch and learn and dream. Leon Colvin stared at Lookout Mountain which towered over the Poss Homes projects where he lived, Lookout Mountain with its rich homes and rich people, where his mother worked as a maid. He looked through issues of Southern Living magazine that his mother brought home from work, he looked at the magazines with an artist's eye, soaking up the design and composition of the magazine's layouts and photos. While walking from school, Leon Colvin often stopped at a shop, a fine furniture store, and looked through the windows, at the wildlife paintings inside. He didn't dare enter the store, not a young black teen-ager of 17 from the projects, that's how he felt at the time. So, he looked through the windows at the paintings he loved. Ruth Wood, the store's owner, apparently was looking at young Leon Colvin too. She had seen this young man looking through the window of her store repeatedly. And when the day came, the day that Leon Colvin worked up his nerve to enter the store, Ruth Wood was ready for him. Leon Colvin told her that he wanted to paint wildlife pictures like the ones in her store. Ruth Wood showed him a kindness. She gave the teen-ager several postcards, each one with prints of the art hanging in the store. "She was one of the first people, other than family, to support my interest in art," Colvin says. "She didn't stop and say how rare is this that a young black kid is interested in wildlife art. She gave me those cards and they were so beautiful. "Flash forward 30 years: Leon Colvin has lived in Valdosta for more than two decades. His wildlife pictures hang in homes, businesses and galleries throughout South Georgia and other parts of the U.S. They are detailed drawings of ducks, birds, deer, geese, meticulously rendered in color pencil. Colvin's originals sell for thousands each; his hard work has paid off and he owns a beautiful home, which is so very different than the project apartment where he grew up. He is establishing a website to sell original drawings and prints of his wildlife art, and even on the internet with its cyber fingers stretching across the world, Colvin has come to realize that he is a rarity. "There really aren't any other black wildlife artists. I certainly haven't found another one," Colvin says. "It surprises people. They see my art and then they meet me, and they don't expect it. "Colvin likens the reaction to what black country music star Charley Pride must have went through when he showed up at the honky  tonk. "Invariably, the black thing comes up," Colvin says. "Some people have actually said 'Well, why aren't you painting black things, black subject matter.' As if wildlife is either a black or white thing. I'm painting what I love. I want to be known as a good artist, not a black artist. "Yet, getting to this point in his life, being a successful artist, Colvin stresses that it took hard work. Born poor, being poor didn't dampen his dreams for a better life nor did it stop his enthusiasm to strive, working hard to make his dream a reality. "This is where I was born," Colvin says, referring to his childhood in the projects, "but I'm not going to stay here. You have to say 'I don't accept being poor', then you have to work your way out of it. "He credits his mother for fostering his dreams and for inspiring his will to work. "My mother did not have much money but she had class. You can have class without having money and my mother had that," Colvin says. "She was a maid but she always made sure that we shined our shoes. We were eligible for free lunches at school, but she didn't believe in hand-outs. She gave us our money for lunch. How she afforded that on a maid's wages, and how she could afford art supplies for me on top of that, I don't know, but she did. "The beliefs she instilled in Colvin have paid off. Self-taught by reading books and studying pictures, Colvin is now an exquisite artist of wildlife art. He started drawing wildlife pictures in black-and-white, with a graphite pencil. Someone asked why he didn't try painting, put his pictures in color. Colvin said he was comfortable with pencils; then why not try color pencils, the person suggested. Colvin resisted the suggestion at first. Color pencils seemed like kid stuff, he thought, at first. But Colvin tried color pencil and liked the results _ so did other people who were soon purchasing his works for more and more money. He uses wax-based color pencils, which cost about $1.50 each, on 100 percent, cotton-fiber paper. The colors are placed on the paper in an exhaustive layering process, so as not to show the paper's grain, yet not damage the grain at the same time. Colvin refers to his wildlife work as "portraits," meaning he rarely presents backgrounds; birds may fly around a tree limb and flowers, but the paper behind this scene is blank. Colvin's personal background is not blank though. He remembers his past well. While recently visiting his hometown of Chattanooga, Colvin was interviewed by a reporter for a story there. He told the story of the woman who gave him the art postcards at the furniture store. Colvin remembered the woman, but he never knew her name. However, people who read the newspaper story knew the woman. Ruth Wood, still alive, and also living in South Georgia now, in a Thomasville nursing home. Colvin was invited to Wood's 103 birthday party earlier this month at the nursing home. He has a photograph of himself and Wood together at the nursing home, several of his pieces of wildlife art around them. "She is still an amazing lady," Colvin says. "What she did back then in Chattanooga, in the early '70s, the whole black and white thing wasn't working well there then, and here she was this white lady who took a few minutes for this poor, black kid. She was like my angel. "Leon Colvin's art work is on display at Accents, a local art gallery.