Alan’s story

From Addiction to Art, Faith and Family

Alan Robinson’s name is on the trucks and on the work. This is how it got there: an artist, a bottle, a brother’s house in Nashville, a priest who said “you can talk to me,” and a family that keeps growing.

Japanese Tree

Green Space

An Artist Who Painted Houses on the Side

Alan grew up in a small conservative town in northern Indiana, loosely Christian, in church a couple of times a year. He studied psychology and philosophy at Purdue, got good grades, and lost his faith somewhere in the middle of it. After college he built a professional art career in Denver: large canvases, rich color, the kind of texture that keeps a viewer looking. Painting houses was the job that paid for the art.

Alan Robinson in his studio beside one of his large oil paintings, part of the Robinson family business serving Bellevue

Four swimmers seen from behind in a bright blue surf, by Alan Robinson — Beach

A row of trees backlit by a red sunset over a striped green field, by Alan Robinson — Sunset over a field

The Years That Nearly Ended It

What started as college partying became more than a decade of drinking and drugs, anxiety and depression, counseling and medication that didn’t take. By his own account he was not a good husband or a good father, and he knew it. Then his brother, who was building a house in Nashville, asked Alan to come paint it. He came for six weeks and didn’t go back. His son, a year and a half old, came to stay with him. Alan would drop him at daycare, go to work, and drink until he fell asleep.

Dark trunks in a woods dusted with blue-white snow, by Alan Robinson — Early Snow I

A snowy woods of violet trunks and pale blue shadow, by Alan Robinson — Early Snow II

Cool winter light falling across a snow-covered woods, by Alan Robinson — Winter Cool Light

God, either kill me or save me, because I am going to destroy this little boy.
Alan Robinson

One hungover morning, having not prayed in years and not believing anyone was listening, he said: God, either kill me or save me, because I am going to destroy this little boy. A couple of weeks later he realized he hadn’t had a drink or a joint since, and had no desire for one. He had done nothing to make that happen.

“You Can Talk to Me”

Some time later, a stranger on a flood-cleanup site asked Alan to pray for him and his wife, because he could tell Alan was a man of God. Alan had never prayed for anyone in his life. He decided he needed help understanding what was happening to him, and the only church he had ever set foot in around Nashville was St. Matthew Catholic Church in Franklin, where his sister-in-law took him once a year. He walked into the parish office in paint clothes on his lunch break and said he thought he needed to talk to a priest. Father Mark Beckman stepped out of his office and said, “You can talk to me.”

You can talk to me.
Father Mark Beckman, now Bishop of Knoxville

An hour of spiritual direction became RCIA, the path into the Church. Along the way the parish asked whether Alan had ever been baptized. He called his mother. He had, as an infant, by his father’s priest, a father he had never known was Catholic. There was no record, but the priest, the diocese and the dates all lined up, and St. Matthew issued the certificate. Alan had been Catholic his whole life and hadn’t known.

Father Beckman is now Bishop of the Diocese of Knoxville. Alan painted him lifting the chalice at Mass, with the crucifix behind him. The painting is called Chalice, and it hangs where the company’s story is told.

Two hands raising a gold chalice that reflects a church interior, by Alan Robinson — Chalice, oil on canvas

Beth, and a Family of Eight

Alan met Beth, who had two children, as he had one. Both came from families where marriages had not lasted, and they decided early that if they were going to do this at all they would do it on purpose: pray together, read together, and raise the children with habits neither of them had been given. Beth entered the Church on her own, without pressure from Alan. They did their marriage preparation at St. Matthew, moved a blended family of five into a two-bedroom house with a loft built into the kids’ room, and then had three more sons. Six children, from twenty-two down to six.

Beth runs the marketing and the promotion for the company. Alan doesn’t like selling himself, so she does it for him, without hesitation. They pray for their clients together.

The Robinson family, including Alan, Beth and Sawyer, together on their front porch, part of the Robinson family business serving Bellevue — Alan and Beth with their six children

Beth Robinson smiling beside her husband Alan in front of a stone wall, part of the Robinson family business serving Bellevue

Red wildflowers crowding the bank of a winding stream, by Alan Robinson — Flowers by the Stream

A field of sunflowers stretching back to a line of trees, by Alan Robinson — Sunflowers

The Art

Alan still paints. His canvases tend toward rich color, interesting shapes and textural surfaces; his murals can be seen inside Katie’s Ice Cream in Dickson, The Temple Preschool in Belle Meade, Bethany Retreat House in Dickson and the Sisters of Mercy Convent in Nashville, as well as in homes and offices around Middle Tennessee. In his words: “I hope that my paintings encourage one to ponder the wonders of natural things and look for the source of all that is true and good and beautiful.”

That is also, more or less, how he paints a house.

Angel wings in white on a teal wall inside Katie’s Ice Cream in Dickson, by Alan Robinson — Angel wings mural, Katie’s Ice Cream, Dickson

A mural of a vegetable garden, a white house, blue hills and a red wagon, by Alan Robinson — Garden mural

Bare trees in violet and rose light over the still Harpeth River, by Alan Robinson — Harpeth River, oil, 2009

White and violet irises against bright green leaves, by Alan Robinson — White Iris

Two dancers in blue mid-lift in a sunlit studio, by Alan Robinson — Ballet Duet

Red-barked trees broken into stained-glass shards of color, by Alan Robinson — Forest in stained-glass color

Slender trees in blue and amber crowding a winter woodland, by Alan Robinson — Winter woods

Early Snow II, a snowy woods of violet trunks and pale blue shadow, by Alan Robinson — Early Snow II

In the Media

Bellevue City Lifestyle, September 2026: “An Artist by Training, a Painter by Trade.”
Faith in Business, Diocese of Nashville radio, October 2026: Alan tells this story in his own words.