Grace Slick Now Paints Those Somebodies She Loved
But that was a lifetime ago for Grace Slick, the steely psychedelic rocker who added enough salt to her words to wither a seasoned sailor.
These days, she
has tamed that wild child.
turned to painting to get her
creative urges out.
dislikes both works.
"I haven't gotten it yet," she
"I talk out loud to her
, 'What do you want me to do this time, Janis?"
Back in the late 1960s and early 1970s, Slick and Joplin
were the high priestesses of rock-spontaneous, outrageous, wisecracking mamas who grabbed life by the heels and shook it dry.
But while Joplin was troubled, fragile in a way, Slick
was more centered.
Striking and statuesque, Slick
could be a model once again-a profession she
tried briefly before turning to music.
After a foray into pop with Starship in the 1960s, Slick quit the music business a decade ago and became a painter.
loves creating something outside herself, something that doesn't involve her
studio is the dining room in her
Malibu home, where canvases litter the floor.
"It's the usual nutty-looking slob artist arrangement," she
spends an average of about a week on each painting and cranks out about 100 a year.
Slick studies art for a half-semester in college, "not because I wanted to be an artist, but because it was easy.
I have some talent in drawing and I was at the University if Miami to play," she
also never studied music and to this day cannot read a single note.
Persistence has gotten her
grew up in Palo Alto, the daughter of an investment banker father and singer mother.
was "right in the middle of the WASP caricature of family life," she
writes in her
1998 autobiography, "Somebody to Love?
married longtime family friend Jerry Slick when she
was 20, Jerry Slick's brother, Darby, wrote "Somebody to Love," which later helped make Slick famous.
In 1965, Grace Slick formed The Great Society and played in San Francisco clubs for about a year until she was asked to join Jefferson Airplane, a band she had admired.
"This was an invitation, an invitation to hold what I'd always thought was a lofty position reserved only for supermodels, movie stars and great physical beauties," she
brought two hits along with her-"Somebody to Love" and "White Rabbit", which she
lives mainly off the royalties from "White Rabbit"-830,000 every time it's used in a movie, she
says, "pays the water bill."
About 10 years ago, a friend asked Slick
to sing at her
The guests made faces at her
and plugged their noses as she
launched in to The Carpenters "It's Only Just Begun.
"They're terrible," says David Littlejohn, art critic form the Wall Street Journal who looked at photos of Slick's
art on a web site.
fascinated by the people who but her
wonders why they like it, where they hang it.
"If you're famous and you draw and you're not very good at it, chances are people are going to buy it," she