This is one of the paintings I gave to my psychiatrist when I was still seeing him. His name is Robert E. Lee Gotcher, (and I hope he doesn't mind me using his name here). I saw Dr. G. beginning when I was 12 years old. I stopped only when he retired 32 years later. Originally I was sent to him as a last resort after I had been expelled from school and arrested for a felony. The deal was; "Be seen by this shrink or go to juvenile detention ." He kept me out of trouble after that, (mostly), by teaching me to use my head and not get caught. I usually think that he saved my life ... but sometimes I wonder . Often I am torn by very mixed emotions about him. There is no doubt that I love him deeply.
This says nothing about the painting itself. Frankly, I think the fact that he owns it is more important than the piece itself. (It's a self-portrait) I offered him any paintings that he wanted. This is one of the pieces he chose to take.