His studio was in the basement of the West Akron house he designed and built for his family (Grandma, my young dad and uncle) completed in 1970. The house is set back against the woods of Sand Run Metropark. I always found the proximity to nature inspiring. The smell of that house’s basement—a little musty, a little damp and dusty—is the smell of creativity to me.

By the time my brother and I were spending time down there, Grandpa was involved with watercolor still lives and ceramics. Projects from his Saalfield days were put away in drawers and in the closet. We would beg him to bring out the old-fashioned games and prototypes.

He made toys as gifts for my brother and me. We got a lot of mileage out of his fold-out wooden puppet stage and his three-story dollhouse. He helped us make our own props and would film our puppet shows.

Grandpa started a tradition in our family of drawing and hanging up “birthday signs,” (which were usually crayon drawings on computer paper). The person who was having a birthday would wake up and have to find where the drawings were taped around the house. The signs would depict the characters we loved and different inside jokes we had (e.g., “Snoopy wishes you a Happy Birthday!”). It made sure a birthday morning began with smiles and laughter. We felt so much joy making and receiving those signs for each other.

My grandfather, Burton Marks, was the first artist I looked up to and who inspired me to become an artist. He showed me what it looked like to live a creative life.

Grandpa worked in the coloring division of Saalfield Publishing in Akron for many years . The Saalfield building still stands downtown. From 1899-1977, it was one of the largest publishers of children’s books and paper toys in the world.

Grandpa wrote and published many children’s books of his own and in collaboration with my Grandma Rita after Saalfield. Many of the books were instructional: how to make kites, how to put together magic shows, how to build your own haunted house and create puppets. All using basic materials to spark the imagination of a child, as it did for me when I was so young and reading his books.

When we were of school age, Grandpa gave us summer art lessons. Sometimes it would be a painting craft, and other times it would be (in my young mind) a REAL art lesson! He set up a Cezanne still life with a vase of flowers from the garden and a couple apples and oranges. After doing a demonstration showing us how to shade the vase progressively more as it turned away from the light source, we’d do our own version. It was my first encounter with “real” art materials and concepts.

Grandpa had some oil paintings around the house, mainly from his past life as a student at the Cleveland Institute of Art and the years following. He always would say that they weren’t very good, but to me, they were the best paintings I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have a real artist in my family to look up to.

Derek and I have one of Grandpa’s still lives hanging in our coffee nook.

Even though Grandpa never thought highly of his own work, he always thought highly of mine and encouraged me to pursue my path. As I got older and more serious about my art in school, Grandpa insisted that I use the best materials I could have. Once I showed him the crappy set of watercolors I was using, he recoiled and immediately took off to Pat Catan’s to bring me back a Van Gogh set. My ego had been bruised, but he was absolutely right looking back. Friends don’t let friends use bad watercolors.