Artist Peter Fowler grew up in Denver and studied briefly in Los Angeles before working in Boston, San Francisco and Seville, Spain. Moving to Buffalo about a decade ago, Fowler set forth as an artist securing studio, gallery, living space. His abstract artwork — much of it capturing Buffalo scenes — is displayed so many homes, offices and businesses, you never know where you'll find a Fowler.

PeopleTalk: What brought you here?

Peter Fowler: I swore I would never leave Seville, and I wanted to pursue my art in New York City, but as my good friend Rick Smith pointed out: Buffalo is close to New York. It's a place you can invest in a building, create your own gallery space. You can connect with people right away. Fast forward to today, and I have a mortgage, a life partner and an 8-year-old son. That's my world.

PT: And the degree in economics?

PF: I actually started that at Occidental. I'm the same age as Obama, 48 — I like to tell the story — and he was a freshman at Occidental when I was a freshman at Occidental. There's only one cafeteria there, so I had to have eaten breakfast with him in my lifetime. He was the class of '79. I lasted there only one semester. I went to the University of Colorado. I played tennis and I was on the team there. Growing up, that part of my life was very important. I thought I was going to be the next great thing in tennis when I was 14.

PT: Where did the art come in?

PF: My family is somewhat artistic. I was more a cartoonist and a caricature artist. I've got caricatures of my teachers from when I was a kid. I got in trouble for drawing the Spanish teacher with big braces.

PT: Where is the strangest place you've seen a painting of yours hanging in Buffalo?

PF: One guy who collects my work owns Eastman Machine. I paint a lot of big things — like 8 feet by 8 feet — and he ran out of room in his house, so he started putting them in his office, and then he ran out of room in his office, so he put one in the plant. A new restaurant, Juniper, hired me to paint the bathroom. I did what I call my Sistine Chapel — ceiling, walls, everything — but in a bathroom, an expensive bathroom.

PT: As an artist, what is the key to survival in Buffalo?

PF:

PT: Define your style.

PF: In artistic terms, it's impressionistic. One guy called it abstract impressionism, and I like that. I do two things: views of Buffalo, and I have a series of interiors with these figures — somewhat iconic — like Cupid and Venus and different circus characters. You can't figure it out at a glance.

PT: What do you do for fun?

PF: Fun is doing what Henry, my son, likes to do. He loves to go downtown and "loiter." He learned that word and he likes it, so loitering downtown is what we do on weekends. We went down to the ice maze. For me it was semi-hellish standing in ankle-deep freezing water. He looked at me and said, "Dad, this is better than Woodstock."

PT: Your partner is an artist, too. What's that like?

PF: She's the famous one, Kathi [Roussel], a ceramic sculptor and she does jewelry. She's all over the Burchfield. With two artists, there's not a lot of spare time. She has a very critical eye, so I benefit more than she does.

PT: I was talking about daily life.

PF: It's not as wild as one would think. You have to divide the chores. I'm the cook, and I'm the guy who shops, and she does other things, and we don't mix. It has to be that way. The only fight we have is that she has a little bit more of a minimalist Oriental feel to her work. I throw it all in.

PT: What do you cook?

PF: They threw me a curve, because Kathi's middle child is vegetarian, and now she is, too. At one point it seemed like Henry's diet was Skittles and multivitamins, but we're beyond that. It's kind of cool, because I know how to make miso soup with the bonito flakes, and I got a couple things from Spain, the lentils and paella throw-offs.

PT: Are you an egotistical artist?

PF: Well, Kathi calls me that, but there's a trade-off for artists. You have to have some ego to paint, to assume that people want to look at what you do.

PT: What distinguishes you from other local artists?

PF: I think it's that I specialize in oil painting. There's so many technical aspects — traditional 16th century to now — so many things to explore. I didn't want to jump around, and I paint a lot.

PT: Can you paint on command?

PF: You have to. See, that's the thing, and sort of the rub on me. The traditional way of art school to upscale gallery to museum, where the artist defines his voice and sits long and thinks about each brush stroke, and six paintings come out that year. But in the meantime, that artist has to think about how to buy the groceries.

PT: What's the rub?

PF: That I should get a job and dedicate myself to those 10 paintings a year. That's the rub on me, that I'm all over the map in terms of what is considered a traditional direction for an artist who's really delving into their soul. I love gypsy market-type action. So how do I paint 10 paintings and get through my tax bill?

PT: Did you have a midlife crisis?

PF: I don't know. Quitting drinking, I guess. I came to Buffalo to quit drinking, and that's a hard thing to do. That's been a bit of a crisis, but it's opened up a whole new life for me. And I haven't bought a convertible.