August 7th, 2013
I didn't think I had been there that long. Some folks were beginning to look at me strangely with my jeans baggy, shoes not so neat, face showing the need for a shave. My reason for being there was to offer my portfolio for sale, however the owner excused himself to let the people at the door inside. I seems they were all too eager to make a mad dash for the Potato Salad.
I had a strange feeling something was going on, beside art sales, in this place. As the owner returned he looked a bit odd to me, as though he was much older or perhaps even fatter, with more bags beneath his eyes and less hair. I certainly took this as a sign of how really tired I was. Who was I to know whether or not this was a good time or not to make the leap into fame and fortune. Most of my other friends had become overnight stars with their show stopping renderings. None of them were better artists, in my estimation, just more aggressive to put it lightly.
The owner of Zabadu Gallery had always told me to bring my work by for him to have a look see, yeah "A Look See" is what he said. As the undertaker was motioning for the stretcher cart to move into place, I felt more uneasy as my painting started to sneeze while belching, from being held so tightly under my arm pit. As a performance artist I had always believed in showing my best piece first, and helping my audience get the feel for my middle range stuff gradually, they way they taught in school. I saw the light go on above the toilet as the man wearing tails and top hat disappeared inside, as Mrs. Zabby was exiting.
Just as I was reaching out to ask her for information about the hearse outside, my painting sneezed again, causing the people at the table to wonder what on earth my reason could possible be for disturbing their night out, with such terrible body noises. Never mind the smoke coming from the restroom, the body being carted off on the gurney, and sirens screaming their approaches to this now soon to be sold art gallery!
As I reached over to silence the alarm clock and get my additional 10 minutes of snooze time, I smiled down at my dog Drifter, snugly placed beneath my arm pit.
April 6th, 2013
I once gave a gift, in fact a "wedding gift" to someone that was not a big deal. You see the book was intended to call their minds back to the momentous day they sealed their vows. I mention it now because I was visiting with the now 'oldie weds' and discovered some freely given art works gathering dust in their jam packed garage, leaning against boxes of who knows what inside.
This particular book however, popped out at me not from the melange of stuff in the storage area, no car could fit inside the space. This book was perched among others on a shelf all to it's self. Unopened. Unread. Unfortunately not even talked about in past conversations.
Perhaps some of you artists have given art to people and they responded by acknowledging that fact, with thanks and well wishing. Family members usually at the head of the line for "Freebies", and other close freeloaders tending to want to know how much your selling something for, however, conveniently leaving their cash, checkbooks and hearts at home!
Okay! Back to the reason for this post...How many Christians out there have family members that suck up everything the news, next door neighbor, get rich snake oil merchant has to offer but leave their wedding presents untouched?
The Bible is the Gift that keeps on giving.
March 12th, 2013
To some the question may seem totally off the wall, or ring a bell of familiarity. With today's economy stretching the budgets, wallets, heart strings to the max there is only so much left for either of these professions. Take the car market for example, especially the high end realm, populated by the "Haves" who have expendable incomes. I'll just call them Art collector types.....for the record.
Now if you happen to be an artist, notice the small "a", then you happen to be aiming for some of the same market share as the "Fat Cats". In fact you might as well be selling shares in Gold Mines, Oil Wells, Condominiums on the Venice Canals because Art in not a necessity. Little kittens, I'll just call them everyday hard working folks, "need food, rent, water/power, transportation and tax money" before they jump on their skate boards.
So for the Artist entering into serious discussion concerning placement of their work(s) be advised that your major competitors are not other artists, rather yacht, rolls, corporate take over strategists, and a few Diamond Mine sellers. Face the facts, yours is a luxury item also. Treat it all for joy as you look around your studio, at the accumulated unsold items in your inventories, needing to be on some new walls.
So the answer to the question is not so distant from the reality of just who can afford what & why, we just want to know , When and Where.
March 12th, 2013
Mar 8, 2013
I know this may seem relatively familiar to those aware of the "chicken or egg" story. It does strike me that one really can't tell, these days, whether the tail is leading the dog or if it's even attached. You look at the artist's hunched shoulders and receive an, "I don't know". You look into the collector's eyes and see the "I don't know anything about Art glaze on their faces but I know what I like when I see it", only to wonder what gives in the Art world.
Paints and camera equipment are sky high in prices these days! Studio, gallery or other exhibition spaces are out of reach until your as old as Methuselah. But every body wants to pay the price you wanted when you began kindergarten.
Van Gogh's brother Theo couldn't give his art away, now collectors can't suck it up fast enough. Artists are still starving as collectors bristle at the fantastic bargains they've made. So again I ask which came first, "The Artist or the Collector Does it have any meaning according to today's way of enhancing value for, and contributing to society's knowledge pool.
I admit that the answer probably lies somewhere in the mind's eye of the believer and open the discussion up to any and all, so feel free to come forth with your commentary.
Until we meet again,
March 9th, 2013
Granted I'm sure that many of you have heard this age old question before. Artists are often confronted by inquiring minds as to, "how they began to draw, paint, photograph, sculpt their work(s)". For some this is not difficult to answer. For others it may bring about no small amount of self searching, as to how becoming an artist fits into their lifestyle options.
I believe that entering into the mind set of an Artist is somewhat similar to preparing a sermon, by a preacher or spiritual leader. They both are called by an inner voice to direct their talents, gifts and messages to the world at large in the community they serve. I know this is a wide brush to paint with, so just bare with me ...okay?
As an Artist I don't just get up doodle around and conjure up any old thing to put before my audience. I give ample attention to the instincts within prior to making a "still life" photograph, or working on an Abstract Painting. I'm not all over the place doing a little bit of this and a dab of that, just to keep my heart beating. It's my life that's at stake here. I believe a conscientious pastor uses much of the same thinking, when preparing their weekly messages for the congregations they serve. They do it because they are called to the ministry.
Before I forget, Artists cross the Road, "Because they want to see what MONEY looks like". The same as some clergy people don't get paid, many artists don't do too well either. Let me know what you think.....
February 27th, 2013
The cycle caught my eyes first, then the rest of the scenery and along came the Sparrow. There are times when looking through the options of what to select, how to frame/compose the scene and when to pull the trigger all cram together in an instant or take a too long. The Sparrow made this image come to life for me. Sure the buildings textures, colours and proximity to the bike were the original reason for the shoot. I liked the cobble stone street shone in this Saint Malo France location. In fact every time I pass the bookstore where the owner of the bike operates his shop, I remember shooting the Sparrow. Something about returning to the scene of a once fine time from one's past. Other images have their own kind of attachment. Lighting, local, smell(a), purpose, history, danger, culture, are just a few of the ingredients that make something matter. The Sparrow made this matter all the more for me, how about you?