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ar* it's the talent for doing hard work. Art is like anything else. If you want to be a good stonemason, you put up a lot of stone. If you want to be a good artist, you do a lot of drawing.”
So he drew — and drew — and drew. He’s still drawing. About the only thing that pulls him away from a sketch pad or a tin of guache is work on the bam he and his wife Robin bought on the bank of the Rush River in 1981. He steals time from art; she steals time from the Town Duck, her shop in old town Warrenton. “It was a shell and we’ve been turning it into a house. We’ve been digging trenches, filling holes with sand, filling holes with concrete, building, building, building, building. It’s hopelessly under construction, eternally under construction,” Mr. Heus complained. “I put a new roof on, I don’t like the roof and so I tear it off. Then, during the dryest summer on record, when the roof is off, it rains!”
While the bam is an ongoing project, Mr. Heus did finish a studio last summer, where he prints from his etchings and restores oil painting and frames. “It pays the mortgage,” he explained. “Restoration work is reliable where art isn’t. Art is like a river - sometimes it rushes down, sometimes it dries to a trickle and sometimes it disappears.”
On the Winslow Homer Trail
Ray Heus has gone from oils to watercolors to etchings to guache, from the Adirondacks and Long Island’s Great South Bay to Piedmont gardens and the Rush River. Where is he heading now?
“Next is oils. Guache is kind of an intermediate step to oils,” he said. “I like guache so much, though, that I think I’ll always do some work in that medium, just like I’ve continued to make prints (from etchings). But you can’t work large in guache, at least not on the kind of paper I
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