Born five days before the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, Gorman has always associated his birthday with this monumental event in history. To be born at the passing of an iconic figure gives one a precarious sense of life, a constant reminder of how it will end, and a consequent passion to make the bloody most of it!
He grew up in the mid-west, back and forth between Texas and Kansas. His mother was a self-taught
artist, a painter, in the style of Norman Rockwell; only better. Gorman sat at her knee and learned from her unfettered version of the creative process. They would compete. Drawing the same subject, then presenting their own picture to the family. Even at that age, from time to time young Gorman had them fooled.
Gorman is incapable of living a normal life. He is touched with the genius that breeds insanity, in a world of his own and of his own making. He paints and draws in a frenzy, heart and hand bypassing the brain to mark those exquisite, perfect lines on paper or canvas, a pure unmediated form of communication. Whether he is painting simple figures or constructing a complex mixed media piece, the urge to create, to express himself, is paramount, a necessity.
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