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Rodney wanted treatment. He spoke of being very anxious, restless, sometimes suicidal. He occasionally feared, when deeply engrossed in painting, that “something will happen” and he “will go crazy.” He was dissatisfied with his job as a typesetter, obtained due to his stepfather's influence.
Rodney was a rather unattractive young man of 26, about five foot eight, without charm, very verbal, whose eyes occasionally had a disquieting quality. He had a markedly inhibited or repressed intensity, perhaps a rigidly held back explosivity. He tried to be ingratiating. He evoked no sense of liking in me.
Rodney's hopes and aspirations were extremely grandiose. He believed he would become a great painter, greater than Picasso, and leave a significant mark on our culture. Rodney's artistic endeavors had been encouraged since childhood by his mother, an art teacher and painter. In mother's eyes, Rodney was “a genius” and she assured him of that. Rodney basked in mother's praise and admiration, which contributed to his grandiose fantasies. Rodney's artistic abilities were also recognized throughout his school years. He obtained an M.F.A. and showed his paintings at university exhibitions with favorable mention.
Rodney believed, upon his returning to New York City, that his paintings would be “snapped up” by the top galleries, and that the “beautiful people” would invite him to join their circle. Reality was disappointingly crushing. Mother was the only one who showed an interest in his paintings. Rodney tried various artistic schemes and business ventures. He failed, since all of them were unrealistic.