Portrait of an artist as a young man: Paint-stained smock a'swirl, tam at a jaunty angle, smudged palette in one hand, brush in the other, standing at a canvas applying truth and beauty in broad strokes.

        Portrait of an artist as William Cole: Safety goggles in place, buzz saw in one hand, sander in the other, standing at a work bench full of exotic woods, applying truth and beauty amid a spray of sawdust.

IF YOU GO

William Cole's Constructions show opens with a reception 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Saturday at Closson's, 401 Race St. and remains up all month. A percentage of every sale will be donated to AIDS Volunteers of Cincinnati.

        This is the art of William Cole: Multimedia, 3-dimensional, a touch of the Orient, a touch of the west, a mixture of free-form shapes and carefully sculpted images over stretched and painted linens.

        “Diffusing the barrier between painting and sculpture,” the art critics say.

        “Percolating ideas,” says Mr. Cole, 47.

        Right now, those thoroughly percolated ideas crowd the garage-turned-studio of his Monroe Township home. Later this week, 23 or so of them will go to Closson's for Mr. Cole's seventh show in the second-floor gallery.

        A designer by training, he spent 22 years with Closson's, up until May, when he morphed into a full-time artist and free-lance designer.

        “And as busy as he was at Closson's, he never gave up his art,” says Sharon Lawson, a long-time fan of his art. “Most people raking in the kind of big money he was getting would never make a career change. You know, the fear factor. Most people shrug and say, "maybe tomorrow.' ”

        “A lot of people came and went, and I just kept hanging around, working by day, art by night,” Mr. Cole says. “And that was good, because I needed the input. But it was difficult because I'd be working on something and I'd have to quit, run meet with a client, then go back to art, then quit and run to a site.

        “But since I made the change, I'm 100 percent happy with it. It's something that has been nagging at me for years.

        “I always thought the year 2001 would have big meaning for me, that something big would happen, and it has.

        “The most wonderful thing about changing is, I get an idea and I can work on it uninterrupted for days on end. As an artist, I need that.”

        Typically, a Cole-creation is four to six months in the making, often as big as 6-foot by 6-foot, commanding prices anywhere from $1,000 to $10,000, although the shipment going to Closson's hasn't been priced out.

        “What I do is really more of a process. I get an idea, then things change. Then they evolve. I keep trying, then re-trying 'til it feels right to me.

        “You know, there's a lot of thought going into one. There are several components to each piece, so first I have to figure out how to assemble it and hide the connecting mechanisms. Like, how is this going to be put together? Then what finish goes on? And what material?”

        Ah, material. There's a piece in the very exotic goncalo alves wood. And another in Australian cypress, complete with a female figure wearing a crown of brass nails. And a Buddha in teak and marble. And a 6-foot, free-standing granite job where he found a way to highlight quarry marks.

        “I love the odor of all this wood as you cut it and the oils are just released. Every one smells a little bit different,” he says, threading through the cluttered, over-sized two-car garage and onto a spacious deck overlooking five deeply wooded acres, accessible by a one-lane bridge — “we call it the "warsh out;' it used to be two lanes” — followed by an impossibly steep one-lane gravel road.

        “This is kind of our dream house,” he says of the hilltop glass-and-deco ranch house he shares with his partner of 20 years. “The only problem is winter. You need a tractor with a plow on it. But then, where do I have to go anyway?”

        One thing he could do on those snowy days is wander around his house ogling his artwork. There's “Portrait of an Artist as King Tut” inside the front door. The Egyptian-themed piece sort of, well, leaps off the wall at you.

        Then there's the environmental-themed “There Go the Galapagos” on the dining room wall. And the gigantic Eastern-themed “Zenergy” on the living room's far wall. And there's a profile of a guy carved into dense wood, playing a guitar with the city skyline painted inside the outline of his body.

        Uh, what do these things weigh, William? Or Billium, as some friends call him.

        “Lots and lots. Even the small ones. Mahogany, bass wood, granite, those are heavy materials.

        “And none of it would have been possible or even be here without Closson's and their support and encouragement. I guess that's really why I stayed so long. It's the top gallery, the top design firm, why leave? No place in the world would have allowed me to do all this.

        “But then 2001 came and it was time. And now, well, I feel like I'm really in control of my destiny.”

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