My Father Jim - “L” Cones and Green Roses

“L” Cones and Green Roses

From the Life of James E. Hartley

“Hey Jim,” his older brother inquired with a knowing smile. “Do you realize that your shirt doesn’t match your pants?”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“What do you mean? They’re a great match. And, they’re my favorite pants.”

“Oh, yea? What color are your pants?”

“They’re tan.”

“No, they’re not.”

“What do you mean they’re not? What color are they?”

“They’re lime green,” Richard replied in a tone that communicated clearly without additional words, “This is hopeless!”

Jim Hartley never wore his favorite pants again.

He couldn’t tell that his pants were lime green because he is partially colorblind. He has a genetic flaw in the “L” cones in his eyes (cones in the retina that perceive long color wavelengths, such as red). These cones did not develop properly in his eyes leaving him moderately to severely “red-green deficient.” Depending on how light or dark the colors are, or how bright and intense they are, reds, pinks, greens, grays, purples, browns, and tans can all look alike to him.

The irony is that Jim loves art and is good at it. Over the years, he has become proficient in pencil, charcoal, colored pencils, pen and ink, design markers, pastels (chalk), watercolors, and oil paints.

To adapt to his disability, Jim has worked hard to learn the academics of color: what color an object should be (even if he can’t properly see the color himself), and to learn how to combine colors to achieve the right effect for normal eyes. Then, as long as the pencils, pens, chalk, or paints have labels indicating their colors, Jim can generally figure out how to mix and apply those colors despite his handicap (or he quietly consults with someone with normal color vision).

Anyone looking at his artwork would not guess that he is partially colorblind. His beautiful landscapes in pastels, watercolor, and oil paint decorate the walls of his home.

On birthdays, Jim’s family looked forward to one of his custom-illustrated, full-color banners with their favorite characters.

Similarly, for many years, Jim created delightful cartoon birthday cards for the children of families he was assigned to visit as a home teacher for his church.

He has also illustrated some eye-grabbing holiday displays for his home.

Jim’s first hint that he is colorblind was when he was five years old. In kindergarten, his teacher offered him colored construction paper for an art project. But to get the paper, he had to tell her was color it was. After picking out a sheet, he panicked realizing he had no idea what color it was. A kid behind him came to his rescue by whispering “pink.” To Jim, it could have been light gray, lavender, light green, or tan.

One day when Jim was in first grade, he was walking home from school and noticed a rose bush where the leaves and the flowers were the same color. He made a close inspection. He knew that leaves are supposed to be green, but he had never heard of green flowers before. When he got home, he asked his mom if roses were green. “Of course not,” Mom replied. Then she hesitated and mumbled, “Oh, dear!” His older brother, Bryan, was also colorblind in the same way, so Jim’s mother taught him about his impairment and reassured him that, with help, he could work around it.

His love for art may have started as a toddler when his brother, Richard, introduced him to the fun of redecorating the walls of his parents’ bedroom with crayons. By second grade, Jim had progressed well beyond scribbling on walls. He noticed that a classmate could draw a popular cartoon character, Fred Flintstone, free-hand and without looking at anything. Jim thought if his classmate could do it, he would learn to do it too. And he did. That was the start of an enduring love for cartooning.

When Jim was 10, he and his brother, Richard, joined a weekly art class for kids ages 10 to 15. It was taught by a family friend who was a semi-professional artist. Both boys continued in those lessons for about two years. They learned to work with pencil, charcoal, pastels, and oil paints. (If the teacher ever suspected that Jim was colorblind, she never mentioned it to anyone.) Those art lessons sparked in Jim and Richard a life-long love of art.

At age 14, Jim showed such promising art talent that his parents took out a loan to enroll him in an art correspondence course offered by the Famous Artists School for Young People. Famed illustrator, Norman Rockwell, was one of the founders of the school. For about two years, Jim progressed through the coursework, mailing assignments to the school in Westport, Connecticut where various professional artists graded, critiqued, and returned his art to him. They often complimented him on his use of color.

He also pursued his art in junior high school and high school. He drew sports cartoons for the student newspaper, illustrated covers for the printed programs for school concerts, and did artwork for the school’s yearbook.

Jim’s secret wish after high school was to become a Disney artist. He chose to attend Brigham Young University, but was extremely disappointed to learn that the school didn't teach illustration or animation at the time. Frustrated that he wasn’t learning the kind of art he wanted, he left the art program in his junior year and instead graduated with a bachelor's degree in German studies and a minor in graphic design.

Despite being disillusioned with the university’s art program, Jim found a way to use his art skills to pay for his last three years in college. They also provided a way for him to fulfill an important agreement he had made with his father.

At age 19, after his college freshman year, Jim wanted to serve as a full-time missionary for two years for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. But he didn’t have the money to pay for it. So, he negotiated an arrangement with his father: Dad would pay for his mission, if Jim would pay for the final three years of his college education.

In 1973, after Jim completed his missionary service, he returned to BYU. Shortly after the semester began, Jim spotted an employment want ad in the school’s student newspaper, The Daily Universe. The newspaper was looking for an art director for its advertising department. He applied and was interviewed on a Friday. The retiring art director, a graduating student, wanted to see a portfolio of Jim’s artwork, which Jim didn’t have. But rather than admit it, Jim simply said he didn’t have the portfolio with him. If he could come back, he would bring it the following Monday. Another appointment was made.

Jim hurried to his apartment to study back-issues of The Daily Universe to see what kind of artwork they needed. He went to the university bookstore and bought a portfolio case, drawing paper, and a variety of pens. He then drew furiously over the weekend. On Monday, he handed in his portfolio, the ink on his drawings barely dry. The art director was impressed, immediately showed Jim’s work to the faculty advisor, and Jim was hired on the spot.

Jim at BYU during the 1970s

It turned out to be one of the higher paying part-time jobs on campus and Jim was ecstatic! He was the art director for three years, and it almost paid for all of his final three years of college. To augment his income, Jim did freelance illustration for one of the BYU chemistry professors and for local merchants. He even won a logo design contest, with a cash award, for BYU Women’s Intramural Sports. Jim felt extremely blessed, his art ability made it possible to pay for nearly all of his college, and, just as important, to keep his agreement with his dad.

Jim’s college art experience was also the start of many years of freelance illustration and design work, which paid a lot of family bills as the years went by.

He has experienced many embarrassing moments because of his colorblindness, such as when buying clothing (“Jim, that tie is lavender, not gray.”), cooking and barbequing (“Someone please tell me if the meat’s cooked yet!”), looking at scenery (“Really, the trees on the mountainside have turned red?”), or decorating his home or office (“What? That’s brown not green?”). He was in a subway once where the various train lines were color coded. He knew he needed to take the red line, but could not tell which one it was from the colors on the sign. Weather maps on the TV news also confuse him. It is not uncommon for him to lament quietly to his wife, “I wish I could see colors the way you see them. Hopefully, in the next life ….”

Because of his color deficiency, he frequently depends on help from others and even from heaven. Jim has recorded in his private journal several times that important art projects were rescued by divine intervention. There were times when a power beyond his own enlightened his mind and even moved his hands.

There are two profound verses in the Book of Mormon that have deep personal meaning for Jim:

… I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; … if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. (Ether 12:27-28)

Jim has been given a talent for art, yet is handicapped by his partial colorblindness. But, thanks to the grace of God, that handicap has never gotten in the way of his ability to develop and use that talent to provide for his family, and to love and serve his family and others through his art. Truly, for Jim and his art talent, God has made weak things become strong.

Jim Hartley, November 2014

April 2019. Originally written by son, Tom Hartley, and revised and edited by Jim Hartley. Reviewed by Jim's brother, Richard Hartley.

Images are original artwork by Jim Hartley himself.