In the photo’s background, wavy grains of wood swirl, light and dark. Spots of light glow.

And there’s a man. He’s wearing glasses, his straight mouth bearded, his left arm raises above his head, a hammer in hand.

Both the hammer and Sam Perkins’ eyes aim ahead.

But it’s what’s behind him, perhaps, that makes Sam the artist he is — obsessive, determined, driven, always investigating, his professor says. Intelligent, kind, thoughtful, so talented, his grandma says.

Stubborn, Sam says.

That sounds about right.

Ten years ago, Sam dropped out of the art department at Missouri Western State University and started swinging a hammer. He worked hard. He made good money.

“But it took me 10 years,” he says, “to figure out that I had to come back.”

DOODLES

It started with doodles. Growing up, Sam was always drawing, sending his pieces into the News-Press’ Orbit Club. His neighbors in Amity, Mo., always cheered on his early art career, Sam remembers.

“He did a lot of things in grade school with art,” says Sam’s grandma, Dorothy Minor. She and Sam’s grandpa took him and his brother to Florida with art paper and colors, and they drew the things they’d seen.

Sam stuck with art, always busy with something. Then in 1995, he started Missouri Western State University with the goal of getting his art degree.

But, like in high school, Sam wasn’t working hard and never did homework. He sort of floated through.

“It was a continuation of high school,” he says, “just enough to get by.”

Soon, Sam began building roof trusses in Maysville, Mo. The money was great, and Sam was proud of the hard work. He dropped out of school to work. One day turned into another, into another.

He didn’t stop creating art, though. Sam made something for a local festival every year, and people always wanted to see his new stuff.

The days kept passing.

Sam’s knees hurt and he felt burnt out. He was almost 30.

And then he started noticing a co-worker who’d been at it for 30 years, his body worn out, years of work ahead of him.

Sam decided he’d go back to school.

“And that’s what I did.”

But things were different now, he was different, and what was ahead of him took on new importance.

THROUGH

THE VIEWFINDER

With three semesters under his belt studying graphic design, everything’s changed now.

First, there’s the work, which Sam doesn’t mind.

“After swinging a hammer 10 hours a day in a sweat box,” he says, “I said, hey, this isn’t bad at all.”

He keeps to himself in school, not there to make friends. It’s not even really about the degree.

“ ... I’m here to learn,” Sam says.

And he’s challenging at least one of his professors along the way. Geo Sipp, associate professor of art, is always studying to keep up with Sam, who dabbles in many media, such as paint, print making and photography, where he explores taking digital photos with vintage cameras, shooting through a tube to get the print in a process called TTV, or through the viewfinder.

Sam’s still always doodling, curious about how things work and interested in taking them apart to find out. He’s inspired by comic books, old advertising and engravings on old illustrations.

And he’s been on the dean’s list every semester since returning.

But where Sam’s been, Geo says, isn’t lost.

“You see parts of his former life in his work,” he says.

Themes of the laborer and tools show up often, as well as parts and explorations of how they fit together.

“In the seven years I’ve been here,” Geo says, “he’s the best student I’ve had, and I consider him a colleague as well as a student.”

Sam’s grandma, who felt disappointed when he dropped out but didn’t say anything, is thrilled that Sam’s back in school.

“Well, I’m happy because he has so much natural talent,” she says.

Today, she has some of his art hanging in her home. Sam has pieces he’s made, too, like the line drawing reflecting his overwhelming trip to Russia last summer with the art department, and the line drawing based on an old Amity story about a horse that lived upstairs in a house, then died and had to be chopped up to come out. They’re framed in Sam’s home, but he’s never happy with them.

“I’ve never been satisfied with one thing I’ve ever drawn in my entire life,” Sam says.

And he’s always itching to start something new.

“On of these days,” he says, “I’ll do something that pleases me.”

MILES ON THE PAGE

There’s another photo of Sam’s, grainy and brown like an old movie. In it, the shadow of a man stretches across a gravel road.

The road slopes in front of the shadow, long and unobstructed.

Sam’s future, Geo says, is simply a matter of the direction he chooses. Sam probably will continue with school after graduating, getting his bachelor’s of fine arts, then on to his master’s. Sam wants to go to Italy this summer with the art department. He’d be a great professor, Geo thinks.

But really, the future is his next piece, his next project, his next obsession.

What matters are the miles on the page, he says, the lines drawn, the photos taken, the prints made, and all the other processes he’s yet to explore using pens and paper, cameras and light, his mind, the world and any other tools he can find.

Lifestyles reporter Kristen Hare can be reached at kristenhare@npgco.com.