Dante, Be Creative

What a second-grade art teacher and a clay Brontosaurus taught me about restoring cars

By Dante' Southern Ride Customs

I don't know where Debbie Brownlee is today. I never knew, and I never thought to look her up. But she made a profound impact on my life. She was my very first art teacher, and in second grade she was one of the central figures in my world.

Mrs. Brownlee

This was the late '70s or early '80s. I remember walking down to the janitor's office one day and seeing a big poster on the wall. A local restaurant, Blazos Pie Shop, was sponsoring a young woman in a pageant. Her smiling face was right there, all done up, and I stood looking at it thinking, she looks familiar. It took me a minute. That was Mrs. Brownlee. The janitor gave me a look that I now recognize as a little sheepish. As a kid, I couldn't figure out why she looked so different from the ‘pin up girl’ on the wall of the janitor’s office.

She drove a brown Corvette that matched her brown eyes and dark hair. I'll be honest: I had a crush on her. She was absolutely gorgeous, and as a second grader I couldn't decide which was more beautiful, Mrs. Brownlee or that Corvette.

I think that's where it started for me. To this day, I see the same kind of beauty in the lines of a well-designed car that I see in a beautiful woman. The sweep of a fender, the curve of a roofline, the way everything flows into everything else. Some shapes just catch your eye and hold it. A seven-year-old can't put that into words. A man who has spent his life around cars can.

And the first words I remember her saying to me were these:

"Dante, be creative."

She said it to me all the time. I remember her standing with my mother once, telling her I had talent and that I needed to be creative and express myself. That stuck.

Why a Brontosaurus

One of my first class projects was a dinosaur. Even though I loved lions, sharks and the most powerful creatures on earth, I chose the Brontosaurus over the Tyrannosaurus rex. People whom knew me well asked me why.

The T. rex never did it for me. It's got those little alligator arms, about three inches long-right?! Push it the wrong way and it would seemingly fall over. Sure, it has the teeth, but the Brontosaurus had something better. It was long. I loved its body lines. (You can probably see where this is going.) And it was a gentle plant-eater. It was peaceful.

At that time in my life, there was a lot of turmoil and domestic violence in my home. Anything that felt quiet, calm and peaceful, I wanted to be part of. So that's what I made.

Built to Last

I remember applying the coatings and putting the piece in the kiln. Mrs. Brownlee explained why each step mattered. She talked about making the piece last, making sure there were no air pockets trapped inside the clay, and getting the finish as smooth as possible.

That Brontosaurus is still with me. It's the oldest thing I own by far. I don't even have photographs of myself from within a decade of when I made it. It has outlasted houses, cars, jobs and just about everything else.

My very first sculpture, made in Mrs. Brownlee's art class. Still here, decades later.

What It Has to Do With Cars

I look at that sculpture now, decades later, and I'm reminded of her lessons. I've used them since the start of my career in automotive restoration, refinishing and OEM retrofits.

No trapped air. Today that means no pinholes in body filler, no solvent popping under fresh clear, no voids behind a panel. Prep it right. Finish it smooth. Build it to last. It's the same lesson whether it's clay going into a kiln or a body panel going into the booth.

I think about those first sculpting experiences when I'm doing body work, laying down paint, or redesigning an interior. Whether it's an old-body-style Bronco, an International Scout, an Alfa Romeo or a Porsche, I can still hear her voice:

Dante, be creative.

Thank You

Some teachers teach you a skill. A few teach you who you are. Debbie Brownlee did both, and she never knew a little clay Brontosaurus would still be sitting on my table all these years later, or that her four words would follow me into every car that rolls into my shop.

Thank you, Mrs. Brownlee. I'm still being creative.

— Dante'

Founder, Southern Ride Customs | Southern Flight Works