Diving Into the Unknown: My First Underwater Speed Painting Performance Adventure
When I first considered the idea of painting underwater, it sounded almost simple in my head. After all, I’d been scuba diving as a kid — how hard could it be to take my brushes, paints, and high-energy performance style underwater?
Reality hit the moment I jumped in.
Suddenly I was juggling an air regulator, brushes, canvas, and the intense focus needed to create live — all while trying to stay in place. Even with weights, I remained far too buoyant, constantly fighting the physics of the water. Every time my brush touched the canvas, it pushed me in a different direction. I genuinely wondered if I might drown before I could finish. Every movement felt sluggish and unpredictable. What I thought would be a fun novelty quickly turned into one of the most challenging performances of my life. Definitely not something I would recommend for recreation.
And that was just the beginning.
The paint itself became its own wild adventure. I assumed I could make it work with what I already knew — but acrylics simply dispersed and dissolved into colorful clouds the second they touched the water. Testing oil-based paints was even more dramatic: they literally exploded across me and my assistant in chaotic bursts. After plenty of trial, error, and creative problem-solving (the exact formula I landed on remains my little secret), I finally found a way to make the colors behave and stick.
The result? A vibrant portrait of Albert Einstein — “Underwater Einstein” — created live at the bottom of the pool.
This wasn’t just about pushing my own limits. The entire project was designed to support my benefit appearance for Admiral Farragut Academy. I kept the finished underwater painting since it was the first of its kind anywhere ever, but I performed five other live pieces on dry land (on their theater stage). Those were auctioned off, bringing record funds for a school that means a great deal to the community.
Watching the students, divers, and audience light up as this unusual performance unfolded reminded me why I do what I do: to create unforgettable moments that echo — moments where imagination truly exceeds reality.
From childhood scuba memories to confronting real fear and technical chaos underwater, this experience reinforced something powerful: the best art often lives on the other side of comfort. When you push past the “what if I drown?” or “what if this paint fails spectacularly?” you unlock something magical.
That’s the spirit I bring to every live performance — whether on stage under lights, in total darkness with a flashlight, or eight feet underwater. It’s not about speed for speed’s sake. It’s about transformation, courage, and delivering experiences that move people and support meaningful causes.