Artists Talk

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• August 4, 2026

How Barry and I came to be friends is somewhat serendipitous. Though Barry lived just a town over from where I grew up, he is from my parents generation. It is not unlike me to have friends from all walks of life, and different ages, however. Our connection came from my lifelong friend, Dean, who was one our summer rascal friends from Atlantique Beach, Fire Island. Fire Island has several towns, all with their own little personality. Atlantique was more of a boating destination. It did have some houses, which was aptly named “Lonelyville,” as there were no stores or anything at Atlantique. There was one beach hut that served expensive egg sandwiches in the morning, but generally, if you showed up to Atlantique, you showed up with coolers full of whatever you were eating or drinking. It is also home to the biggest marina on Fire Island. Dock slips were cheapest at Atlantique because of this. Some of my best memories are those days and nights there.

So, Dean’s family stayed on a big sailboat there all summer. Our families became friends, and both Dean and my brother were two of the best surfers on Fire Island. What fun we had. Some years ago, Dean was telling me that he played tennis with one of his high school buddies dad who was an artist and animator for the beloved 90s show, “Rugrats.” Barry and I linked up for some projects where I wrote and he drew up art work that we pitched, but more importantly we became friends.

Barry Goldberg’s studio is a detached garage from his house, filled with DVDs of his favorite movies and TV shows, and every corner is stapled with paintings, cartoon drawings, and little figures of TV show characters he has worked on. It’s a messy place in a sort of magical way, if that makes any sense. Lots of color.

Barry and I have collaborated a few times, and it’s always a delight to see what he comes up with. He has had a long and steady career in animation via Nickelodeon and Sesame Street, but his paintings and sculptures are just as impressive as his cartoon work. You can’t find his work on social media because he is an artist from another time and as a true introvert, he likes it that way. He made a good life for himself on the south shore of Long Island, drawing and raising kids and still draws pretty much every waking moment, and mostly avoids people besides a small group of people, and I’m lucky to be one of them.

Movies and television are something we are both passionate about, so we have calls discussing what we are watching and about art in general. He says that painters/drawers have the most fun art form, and that writing is the hardest of all the arts. Because writing isn’t as much play as painting, music, or acting… it’s constant problem solving. It’s technical art. It’s no wonder writers go mad, because their brains are these gears that never stop.

It is validating to hear such things from an accomplished artist in another field. Writing IS hard as hell. And writers get the least credit! Anything you have ever watched came from a writer who is making less money than the actors or producers. It’s damn near criminal. God, I wouldn’t encourage anyone to be a writer. It’s a gift and a curse. I’d much rather be a musician or a painter, but since I was a child, I was always a writer.

In some of my more cynical moments, Barry has been a big champion of the artist life of continuing to create. Not everyone is creative. Most people lose their imagination and are not creative people. I’m not knocking people who are not creative, I’m just stating a simple fact that most adults are not creatives, and while I sometimes see being creative as a madness, Barry only ever sees it as this beautiful, perhaps even divine gift from the universe.

In the digital world of content creators, and now the threat of ai, Barry is a dying breed. Hell, whatever I am also is a dying breed. And as much as that makes me sad, I’m glad to know Barry or to be the weird artist writer I am. Though you’ve never heard his name, you’ve probably seen his work on television or reading a children’s book to your little loved one, Barry is eternally grateful for having a career as an artist. Does he have a laundry list of projects that didn’t sail? Of course. No artist doesn’t. The game is rejection. He acknowledges how lucky he is, even though he also puts in a tremendous amount of work.

Cheers to all the working artists out there… not the ones grasping for likes on social media, but the ones tirelessly working from home studios, writing in cafes or jamming in a garage. Keep on keeping on, the world needs more people like you. We could use less people complaining on the internet about politics and more people like Barry, creating something whimsical. Even if only few eyes ever see it.

[Barry’s concept art for an animated series I wrote about a pirate who crash lands on an island lost in time.]