About The Artist Stephen Joseph Lombardi Page
I was born Stephen Joseph, first son of Claire Anne and Joseph Madison Lombardi on August 16, 1960, at Saint Margarets hospital, in Dorchester, Massachusetts and I am happy to say that I share that very special date with my childhood and life long hero, Sir Lawrence of Arabia. I have always been fascinated by him. Oh, and of course in 1977, The King, Elvis, dies on my birthday, and while a good portion of the music industry mourned, I was a determined 17 year old, intent on throwing a party. And then there is Madonna, I would like to meet her, and perhaps sell her an original painting, like
"My Confessions to the Wormy Messiah," she shares my birthday also. Regardless, I am a proud Leo.

I hit a lot of the typical speed bumps growing up, puberty, a violent divorce, a mild case of alcoholism, experimental drug usage, a severe bike accident, stayed back my Junior year due to failing English, etcetera, etcetera, and I would like to say that in looking back at it now, what seemed to be tragedies then, was more like a catalyst that kept me pointed in the right
(above left) painting in my studio at 4002 West Altadena Ave, Phoenix, Arizona
(above) my daughters Danielle, now 15 and Stephanie, now 10, on her first day home from the hospital
(left) the smiling chef using his creative abilities to render an Easter bunny in a watermelon's outer rind.
direction.

I took a shot at the Junior high football team, I don't know why, perhaps I was thinking that it was something that I wanted to do, perhaps because Tommy Lynch played and I looked up to him then. I would like to talk to him again now, to thank him for being kind to me. Football was a hammering experience, I got creamed and rejected, and I did not like it. Still I stubbornly persisted, usually in for the last play, of the last quarter, and for the rest of the games, basicly a bench warmer. In the
summer of 1976, I was struck head on while riding my 10 speed bike, in the dark, across a busy street, by a Honda 1000 motorcycle. Needless to say, I did not play football ever again, instead I joined the Drama club, and I was a much happier person. I am still not much of a sports fan. Originally, I had begun school with the class of 1978. It was not good for me, I was rejected by them, not at all accepted, frequently beaten and often the butt of their cruel jokes. I feel very comfortable now saying that

(above left) Boomer (male - Siberian Husky) & Samantha (female - mut), friends for life
(above right) they always grow up, and then they are a princess, Stephanie, age 9, February 2007
(left) bounty from our gardens, autumn 2006
(below) Danielle, age 6 mos.
many of them were mean spirited people, and the rest, enablers. With them, depression and apathy were my only best friends. Staying back in my Junior year may have postponed my graduation from high school or it may have secured it. The class of 1979 was a much friendlier and accepting group of people, and to this day, I thank them all for that.

Recognizing life defining moments is important for us to truly know who we are. Sometimes they come as a bone crushing blow, and sometimes they come as failure,
(above left) from left to right, brothers, David, Stephen, and Frank Lombardi at my wedding to Kimmie, not seen here, I have another brother Jim, and a sister, Suzanne

(left) one corner of our vegetable garden, summer 2007

(right) Kimmie, Danielle, Stephanie, Oct 2000

(below center) one corner of our cozy 2.5 acre country yard
however I am acutely aware that there has always been a higher presence, a guiding
hand, and all I have to do is look back at the evidence of it's work in my own past history. It is how I have learned to have faith.

At the tender age of 19, having graduated from Hopkinton Jr. Sr. High School, a year late, in 1979, I was only too pleased to leave that small town in New England and attended Eastern New Mexico University, for what seemed like an eternity, barely surviving on Ramon Noodle and a can of peas per day, however it was really
only for my freshman year. There where I once again encountered the Saint of my birth, a brunette temptress named Margaret who brought me to Austin, Texas, and summarily disposed of me. I was living in Texas when I quickly realized that I was better off relying on skills already acquired, than to suffer through the unsure trials of a bachelors degree,

so I took a position working as a Sous Chef in the exclusive Capital Club, a top the Texas Commerce Bank building. I had been working in kitchens, paying my dues since I was 12 years old. Plating salads for Gert Remby's Catering, washing dishes and peeling hundreds of pounds of onions at Carbone's, working the salad bar and broiler at Beef Steak Charlie's. My culinary indoctrination was then capped off at the Capital Club, where I met an inspired and energetic chef,
teacher named Stephen Cooper, who took me under his wing and began to refine my skills as a gourmet chef. I owe that man, a lot.

I have always had special and influencial people in my life, another one being a Catholic priest, Father Russo, who just seemed to be there for my mom at the right time, when my parents were going through a horrible divorce. A man named Bill Abbott, who taught me how to work a farm, while I worked summers as a volunteer at his farm on Ash Street. A woman named Natalie Norton, who encouraged me to draw, when no one else was, and she invited me to spend Saturdays with her dance classes, sketching the girls. It was so cool. My spirit owes all of them my deepest gratitude because they are all my guardian Angels.
(above right) Danielle, taking a bath, camping out at King's Canyon, California

(above left) best friends for ever, Danielle and Anthony Lombardi

(left) the artist, inspecting the weapons of his niece Autumn's birthday party destruction, it's a water gun

(below right) Danielle & Steph in Times Square, playing hookie from school to see one of their Dad's art show opens

(below left) "Tree of Life"
The Capital Club in Austin, Texas is also where I met my first wife, Desiree, a Mexican American waitress, and the mother of my son, Anthony. Whom I am very happy to have in my life, I might add, he's a good guy and I am very proud of him. I love that song, all my X's live in Texas, because for me, it is true. As well, my divorce from Desiree, although expensive, and from some perspectives tragic, was another defining moment in my life, a cloud with a silver lining. We had lived together for some time, and broke up a couple of times, and it was when we had been apart for two years, I was involved with a woman in San Antonio which ended abruptly, and strangely, I met up with Desiree again, who now had an infant son, Joseph, from a fly by (click here to continue reading text only?)