We have nothing to fear but ourselves

Not too long ago I wrote a piece on me being lazy. For what it's worth, I actually did something yesterday. And when I say "something" I mean painting. I "do" something every day. Cook, laundry, clean, well not everyday but I keep busy.

It was my Yoga instructor I have to thank for getting me back on a somewhat creative journey. She said, during our Savasana on Saturday morning, don't let fear run your life. So I'm laying there and wondering what am I afraid of? Is fear keeping me from being creative?

Then this bolt of lightening came through the gym and singled out me; I am afraid.

When I started in pastels, almost two years ago, I thought I'd sell some of my work. I know they aren't masterpieces but decent enough for someone to shell out a few bucks for and hang on their wall. This journey took me on the road to market my work. I made prints of my work for the folks who would love to own my work but didn't want to buy the original, matted same and framed them; quite nicely I have to admit. I bought a booth at a few Holiday craft shows and thought I'd priced my work reasonably. There we small miniatures of my work in the form of greeting cards, too.

When I couldn't get anyone to purchase anything more than a few of the greeting cards I'd created I packed up everything and put it all back in my studio. Shut the door always thinking I'd get back to it as soon as I'd washed the taste of defeat from my mouth.

Comes February 2008. I brake my wrist (read posts with label "wrist") and I am down for the count. My wrist still hurts to do somethings but painting is not one of them. Good excuse not to paint, right? My beloved never pushes, never asks why; I stopped in November of 2007. I did wonder but didn't try to find out the reason. Self doubt wraps its self around you like a wet blanket.

Yesterday I saw my husbands old boots in the corner of the stairs to the garage and knew I had to paint them. I don't care if it ever gets framed or sees the light of day-- I did it for myself and I feel pretty good about it. I'm not afraid if anyone doesn't like it nor wants to buy it. I'm only sharing this photo because I want someone to know I've found my way back to my studio.

Oh, and the Vodka bottle in the studio? Naw, not what you think. I just don't have room anywhere else for the booze.

Who or what is art?

Question: Is that Art?
Answer: No, he only looks like your cousin, Arthur.

Question: Is that art?
Answer: Who the hell can answer that!

Being at the Getty Center I'm exposed to a wide range of art. Even though we are better know for our painting collection, the 9th through the 19th century, we've collected much more in the ten years the Center has been open and have some modern pieces. For one, the photo collection has grown immensely and now includes some prints from 2006, Luc Delehaye. We also have some very contemporary exhibits like the new works of Tim Hawkingson which seemed a big hit last year.

Sometimes I look at different art movements and wonder if the artist thinks, "… wink, wink, let's just slap some color on a canvas, add a huge price tag and pass it off as art to prove these suckers will buy anything with a famous name attached." But, I like Richard Serra's fluid bands of steel and Chuck Close's portraits. Can't understand conceptual or performance art.

All of this art is making my head swim. How to look at it, how to appreciate it, how to understand it. I found a website that does explain some of the art movements, Modern Art
but does little to help how to understand it. None the less, if you too are confused about what is art, check this site.

So why the angst? California Video is just open at the Getty Center and even though I'm not crazy about the exhibit it is the very beginning of an art movement assembled together to view and study. This experimental venture into video did not exist before 1968 and continues today with a piece created for the show. In 100 years people will look at this collection and because the Getty Center has conserved this block of work and will be able to see it from it's inception. I do have to remind myself how the Impressionist movement was quite radical during it's time.

Check the website for the exhibit California Video and you might find something that inspires you, or puzzles you, or just starts a conversation about art. And maybe that's what the artist wanted in the first place.

Sacrificed on the alter

Now I should have time to work on my blogs. My last attempt to sell my artwork this year was, no surprise to me, a bust. Venues where they have handmade baby bibs are fine but not for my work, evidently. Plus I had a very different area for my booth. It was in a church and I was up two stairs on the alter. Yikes, me, a heathen, on the alter. Bad juju all around. First, customers couldn't just walk by and look at my table, they had to look up. Then, even when I'd invite them up to see more of my work, they just didn't seem comfortable.

Having that bird's-eye-view I saw how many people shopped. They like to walk by, give the booth a sweep, then--if interested--they touch something. The only thing I sold were cards and I did twice as good at the Sr Center craft show. Why, because people could pick up the cards. Now, I'm not saying the crappy location had everything to do with it but it sure seemed like it was part of it. People seem to like my art, they are very complimentary but not enough to cough up some cold hard stuff.

Discouraged? Well, yes, a bit but I will regroup after the holidays and see if I can peddle my wares somewhere else. There's a gallery in Noho, North Hollywood, that might need some inventory.

I've become the Art Nazi

My first art sale was last Friday and Saturday and though I had fun and learned a lot, it suffered from a lack of too many of customers. Ya know, you have to say that part about I learned a lot. It's like when you're trying to get a date for a friend and you say, "She's real smart and a good listener, too." That being said, I actually did learn something, bottom line, they didn't like my prints enough to buy them. OK, so I'm disappointed but undaunted in my quest to sell something.

What I did find were some pretty nice people, they bought my handmade cards, and some pretty odd ones, as well. For those of you that don't personally know me I've always worked at some job or another that required quite a bit of customer service. Basically I can be pretty polite, when I want to, and when you're trying to sell something that's what you have to be. I do have grooves from biting my tongue but they are starting to heal.

An older citizen came up to my table and without any prompting shared with me why she couldn't buy any of my prints. I nodded and hoped she'd move one, no such luck. Then she went into some long winded story about how her husband can't lift his arms above his head to hang any of the art they already have and she showed me by lifting her arms way over her head. I knew this to be true because if he could lift his arms he'd have strangled her long ago. Then she proceeded to tell me what a creep her cousins boy was because he's been promising to come and hang the art. Still nodding, still hoping she'll leave since I had a small table and her wide ass was taking up space for real customers, and still biting my tongue. Ah, finally she moves on, relief.

Or so I thought. The next day she walks up and starts the whole conversation, again. When she gets to the arm lifting I stop her and say, "Since this is the same story you told me yesterday I assume everything is still the same." Yup she said and was off. I usually would have listened to her whole rambling and not said anything but, hey, it's MY business and if I want to be rude to people I can. If people can be selective about what they are buying I can be selective about who I sell to. No Art for you!