After doing our taxes this year, I see a dog chasing its tail, of sorts.Ya gotta spend money to make money. Or so I'm told...
Hard to get the make-money part to exceed the spend-money part. And so you make some sales, and win some prize money, and you're happy, right? Well, yes, I am. But I'm spending as much as I'm earning, and so, in a financial sense, it's been a wash. What's that you say? "But you're creating a lot of artworks that you ordinarily wouldn't. That's good, right?"
Well, yeah. But if I hadn't spent the money that was invested in selling them at no gain, I'D STILL HAVE THE PAINTINGS!
Not that I have a great love-of-possession for them. They were all "exercises." And I have decent digital versions to satiate my shallow pride.
So here's the premise of my new tack:
I will take a hiatus from entering competitions (yes, art shows are competitions) until such time I deem my catalog "deep and full." I'll later define "deep and full." For the first tax year, I will have, for the greater part, eliminated most outgo. And, meantime, my artwork proceeds at a pace not dictated by false deadlines, but by a desire to paint. THAT is what gets lost in the commercial realm of chasing shows and sales. And THAT, I hope, is when I get a better sense of what "Art" is to me. And only me, likely.
On that subject, I have to confess — for the sake of the hardcore reader that's delved this deep, thus far — I have no idea whatsoever, “what art is.” I really don't even care, because I always find it — or it finds me — in the least expected places. So it must be something more than wordy ideas. I’m only learning to be, in its quiet to powerful presence.
Wednesday, November 1, 2023
Sunday, April 21, 2019
Monday, November 5, 2018
2018 Season Better Than I Could’ve Dreamed
At one point during the 2018 art season of six shows, I was kicking around the idea that maybe things would be better not "touring," or showing every other odd weekend; and instead, working even more fervently on improving my skills and broadening my catalog. Take a season off, say...
In my first 2018 show in January at Images: A Festival of the Arts in New Smyrna Beach, I was very humbled to be awarded the George and June Musson Award (equivalent to second place). A couple of weeks later at the City of Stuart's ArtsFest 2018 I was awarded best of show; and a week later at Lake Wales Arts Festival 2018 I received an award of distinction; and then an award of distinction at Santa Fe College Spring Arts Festival 2018; and in November, an award of excellence at Art Harvest 2018 in Dunedin. So, awards-wise, I could not complain!
Sales-wise, however, were it not for the generous monetary awards, I was barely covering expenses.
In my last showing of the season at Mainsail Art Festival 2018 in St. Petersburg, I had the breakthrough I had been seeking for some time: I sold two of my larger works, The Moth Eater and The Bandmaster (below).
In my first 2018 show in January at Images: A Festival of the Arts in New Smyrna Beach, I was very humbled to be awarded the George and June Musson Award (equivalent to second place). A couple of weeks later at the City of Stuart's ArtsFest 2018 I was awarded best of show; and a week later at Lake Wales Arts Festival 2018 I received an award of distinction; and then an award of distinction at Santa Fe College Spring Arts Festival 2018; and in November, an award of excellence at Art Harvest 2018 in Dunedin. So, awards-wise, I could not complain!
Sales-wise, however, were it not for the generous monetary awards, I was barely covering expenses.
In my last showing of the season at Mainsail Art Festival 2018 in St. Petersburg, I had the breakthrough I had been seeking for some time: I sold two of my larger works, The Moth Eater and The Bandmaster (below).
So, now I have a HUGE GAPING HOLE in my portfolio!
The nicest part about the sales is, they were made to established area collectors. While previously I had sold only about eight paintings over two years (some, however, as small as 8x8 inches). I even had forsaken my cut-rate price reductions I was implementing at earlier shows, presuming I was out of touch with prospective buyer's pocketbooks. However, I earnestly believe the works to be worth every penny — not to mention the many hours that administratively are associated with print reproduction, web posts, sales and marketing, setup/breakdown at events, travel, etc.
So what am I working on now? Well, A few paintings directly relating to my last visit to Gainesville for the Santa Fe College Spring Arts Festival. I paint mostly from photo references, recomposing on canvas as I develop a scene from various references — never simply “reproducing” a photo. A couple images shot at the show turned into paintings... Later I'll recap the year!
Monday, February 19, 2018
Nice, surprising start to 2018. Was "salon style" a factor?
Still feeling like quite the art show newbie, adjusting to manufactured environments and scenarios with as many unwritten rules as written... And then, upon inquiry and close inspection, discovering even the written rules don't always apply. But that's just any human endeavor, perhaps.
Recently, I altered the arrangement of my artwork as shown in my 10x10 tent. In some respects, the psychology of picture hanging is poppycock, because we all know good work when we see it, right? We don't require any soft sell, pop-psychology technique to show artistic merit. True enough. But what if you could hang art such that its collective compositional arrangement amplifies the works?
My decision was to lay out my space — which is roughly half of a stop sign, as though a book or magazine spread.
My previous setup strictly looked at each panel as though it was simply unto itself:
My new approach sought to dissolve the boundaries of the panels and inter-relate the rectangles and image content — flesh with flesh, horizon aligned with horizon, earth low, sky high (below), something I've since learned (although I ought to have known) is called "salon style."
For the first show using this approach in New Symrna Beach, the cohesive unity of the images as an ensemble created an illusion of grander scale, and of a more prolific portfolio. The simple psychology of creating "an energy" served to amplify an already-excited eye's perceptions, and even can result in the eye finding what it already naturally is seeking — different for each viewer — in the many snippets and details of the overall strand of images in this contrived, forced relationship.
I paint slow, but am always adding to my display. So the work itself might not deserve the full credit that its arrangement complimented. I was recipient of the George and June Musson Award at Images: A Festival of the Arts in January 2018.
And recently at the Stuart ArtsFest 2018, with a slight tweaking of the composition, I was awarded Best of Show. Was it the psychology of a salon style setup? I have to think it played a subtle role.
In closing, below is a painting of one of my granddaughters, Emerson... I have a couple of days into this, and feel like I'm off to a quick finish. Have to "color it up" and detract from my natural muddiness! Less a "portrait" and more a composition of a more universal human feeling with a cascade of hair. While I love the Pre-Raphaelites and their affinity for beauty, I also appreciate a painter's trait they abhorred — "sloshyness!"
Introducing “Cascade,” 24x30 oil on canvas (unfinished).
Recently, I altered the arrangement of my artwork as shown in my 10x10 tent. In some respects, the psychology of picture hanging is poppycock, because we all know good work when we see it, right? We don't require any soft sell, pop-psychology technique to show artistic merit. True enough. But what if you could hang art such that its collective compositional arrangement amplifies the works?
My decision was to lay out my space — which is roughly half of a stop sign, as though a book or magazine spread.
My previous setup strictly looked at each panel as though it was simply unto itself:
My new approach sought to dissolve the boundaries of the panels and inter-relate the rectangles and image content — flesh with flesh, horizon aligned with horizon, earth low, sky high (below), something I've since learned (although I ought to have known) is called "salon style."
For the first show using this approach in New Symrna Beach, the cohesive unity of the images as an ensemble created an illusion of grander scale, and of a more prolific portfolio. The simple psychology of creating "an energy" served to amplify an already-excited eye's perceptions, and even can result in the eye finding what it already naturally is seeking — different for each viewer — in the many snippets and details of the overall strand of images in this contrived, forced relationship.
I paint slow, but am always adding to my display. So the work itself might not deserve the full credit that its arrangement complimented. I was recipient of the George and June Musson Award at Images: A Festival of the Arts in January 2018.
In closing, below is a painting of one of my granddaughters, Emerson... I have a couple of days into this, and feel like I'm off to a quick finish. Have to "color it up" and detract from my natural muddiness! Less a "portrait" and more a composition of a more universal human feeling with a cascade of hair. While I love the Pre-Raphaelites and their affinity for beauty, I also appreciate a painter's trait they abhorred — "sloshyness!"
Introducing “Cascade,” 24x30 oil on canvas (unfinished).
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
So, What Does 2018 Hold?
I'm excited to find out, because in all honesty, I have no idea what I'm going to paint next! Plans are to visit Europe (Scotland, England and the Netherlands) in the fall... I also still have a lot of fallen trees to cut-and-clear still from the 2017 hurricane season, and so you see why I'm "so looking forward" to "other" things!
Art festivals and shows I've been accepted to for 2018:
Hope to see you at one of these events!
In the meantime, it's been suggested, painting-wise, that I do a few new things: (1) Loosen-up on my realistic style, and, (2) Umm, maybe another subject other than your lovely partner? And, (3) work smaller at a more cash-and-carry scale for art shows.
My most recent paintings of 2018 might justify that second suggestion... Both were from some recent snapshots of my lovely wife's profile; each ever-so-slightly different, but vastly different in application. Here they are.
Salvia & Peony
30x24 oil on canvas
2018
Three Eggs
24x24 oil on canvas
2018
Art festivals and shows I've been accepted to for 2018:
- Images: A Festival of the Arts 2018
Riverside Drive and Canal Street
New Smyrna Beach, Florida
1/26/18 - 1/28/18 - ArtsFest Stuart 2018
Memorial Park
Stuart, Florida
2/10/18 - 2/11/18 - Lake Wales Arts Festival 2018
Shores of Lake Wailes
Lake Wales, Florida
2/24/18 - 2/25/18 - Gasparilla Festival of the Arts 2018
Curtis Hixon Waterfront Park
Tampa, Florida
3/3/18 - 3/4/18 - Santa Fe College Spring Arts Festival 2018
Downtown Gainesville (Historic NE 1st Street)
Gainesville, Florida
4/7/18 - 4/8/18 - Mainsail Art Festival 2018
701 Bayshore Dr., NE Vinoy Park
Saint Petersburg, Florida
4/21/18 - 4/22/18
Hope to see you at one of these events!
In the meantime, it's been suggested, painting-wise, that I do a few new things: (1) Loosen-up on my realistic style, and, (2) Umm, maybe another subject other than your lovely partner? And, (3) work smaller at a more cash-and-carry scale for art shows.
My most recent paintings of 2018 might justify that second suggestion... Both were from some recent snapshots of my lovely wife's profile; each ever-so-slightly different, but vastly different in application. Here they are.
Salvia & Peony
30x24 oil on canvas
2018
Three Eggs
24x24 oil on canvas
2018
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Driven/Not Driven, Discipline/Indiscipline
The more I paint, the more I realize one must be "driven" to some degree in order to progress. Otherwise, much time passes and little gets done. But I'm not.
I've always dodged the concept of "being driven" because I sensed something psychically unhealthy about it, and potentially gravely disappointing as reality smacked me head on. In addition, as I was raised by a military sergeant, I always misinterpreted the word "discipline" as a punitive consequence, rather than a beneficial character trait. Hence, I've always reveled in joyous indiscipline. It's taken me years to change that paradigm. My father's intended lessons are only just now penetrating my consciousness, 50 years after the fact. Do I regret my indiscipline? Well, no. I might be richer financially were it not for it, but instead, I'm richer spiritually because of it.
As I travel and meet many super-talented folks in this world — writers, photographers, painters, craftsmen, singers, songsmiths and players of all ilk of instruments (and sometimes, ALL of the above) — I realize there's a tribe of sorts that I enjoy the company of. And only few are fortunate enough to earn a living, peripherally even, from their skills; most are trading lifetimes for modern sustenance, postponing their natural drive. I was one.
While the economics of stubborn persistence-against-all-odds is never practical for artists, it's just something we do, regardless. But, what is success? In earnest I couldn't say I know at all. I think I personally might measure it piece-by-piece — that great song I spontaneously wrote and recorded on my iPhone last week that only a handful of friends will ever hear... That last painting that will never sell... And, so what? Though I have no problem accepting money for my art, I still have a problem tailoring my next project in pursuit of money, or even approval.
So, I'm not driven, really. I'm still indisciplined. I just have mind's-eye images I like to materialize; I hear tunes I like to pick out on guitar; I spew stream-of-consciousness phrases that become lyrics; and I see the wonder around me and document it somehow.
And you're one of the handful of friends that will ever see it.
Oh, by the way, my latest stuff:
Fairy Ring
24x24 oil on canvas
One of my granddaughters, Baylor, was laid back on the floor and I took some snapshots. I paired this with many ground images from the woods. When considering how I might contrive a circular halo of sorts, I chanced upon a fungal distribution of mushrooms that formed a circle on the woods floor. I learned it's called a fairy ring. How appropriate!
Broken Angel
36x36 acrylic on canvas
A profile pose referenced from a Victorian painting, the figure is paired with three yards of inexpensive fabric. The study resulted in an angelic image, though exhausted-looking. Dropping the broken wing and feathers into the foreground took the story a little further down the line.
I've always dodged the concept of "being driven" because I sensed something psychically unhealthy about it, and potentially gravely disappointing as reality smacked me head on. In addition, as I was raised by a military sergeant, I always misinterpreted the word "discipline" as a punitive consequence, rather than a beneficial character trait. Hence, I've always reveled in joyous indiscipline. It's taken me years to change that paradigm. My father's intended lessons are only just now penetrating my consciousness, 50 years after the fact. Do I regret my indiscipline? Well, no. I might be richer financially were it not for it, but instead, I'm richer spiritually because of it.
As I travel and meet many super-talented folks in this world — writers, photographers, painters, craftsmen, singers, songsmiths and players of all ilk of instruments (and sometimes, ALL of the above) — I realize there's a tribe of sorts that I enjoy the company of. And only few are fortunate enough to earn a living, peripherally even, from their skills; most are trading lifetimes for modern sustenance, postponing their natural drive. I was one.
While the economics of stubborn persistence-against-all-odds is never practical for artists, it's just something we do, regardless. But, what is success? In earnest I couldn't say I know at all. I think I personally might measure it piece-by-piece — that great song I spontaneously wrote and recorded on my iPhone last week that only a handful of friends will ever hear... That last painting that will never sell... And, so what? Though I have no problem accepting money for my art, I still have a problem tailoring my next project in pursuit of money, or even approval.
So, I'm not driven, really. I'm still indisciplined. I just have mind's-eye images I like to materialize; I hear tunes I like to pick out on guitar; I spew stream-of-consciousness phrases that become lyrics; and I see the wonder around me and document it somehow.
And you're one of the handful of friends that will ever see it.
Oh, by the way, my latest stuff:
Fairy Ring
24x24 oil on canvas
One of my granddaughters, Baylor, was laid back on the floor and I took some snapshots. I paired this with many ground images from the woods. When considering how I might contrive a circular halo of sorts, I chanced upon a fungal distribution of mushrooms that formed a circle on the woods floor. I learned it's called a fairy ring. How appropriate!
36x36 acrylic on canvas
A profile pose referenced from a Victorian painting, the figure is paired with three yards of inexpensive fabric. The study resulted in an angelic image, though exhausted-looking. Dropping the broken wing and feathers into the foreground took the story a little further down the line.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Art is art and work is work. But artwork is also work.
Yeah, but of all the work I've ever done, I really dig it the most. Exploration, learning, hand in hand with drudgery and error. I love it.
As I transition back into a less computer-centric world, I occasionally lament that there is no Great Undo to withdraw my simple acts of human stupidity. But as I paint more, I also learn there ARE methods to undo error — but they're typically convoluted and require much time and energy to deconstruct and reconstruct. Control-ZZZZZZ.
My latest painting effort began in April, and combines scenes from our visit to the old town near where I lived as a kid. It also steals a Beatles' jacket from the Sgt. Pepper album, throws in my fiddle, a friend's trumpet and a Fender Stratocaster as homage to the gentleman central to the composition, Stewart McDonald.
Stewart's a Scottish photographer and musician I briefly met online discussing HDR photography. He posted a highly stylized self-portrait, and I commented that it would make a really cool painting. He visited my site and saw that I painted, and offered permission to use it. After many iterations of concepts, I went back to my childhood...
I think that's what we must do as we reach a certain point in the aging process. So, here I go! The painting is entitled "Aldeburgh Festival." Commenced in 1948, it's now called the Aldeburgh Festival of Music and the Arts. I imagined creating a poster for the event, and this is it...
The near-finished painting, Aldeburgh Festival. (Click to enlarge and scan the canvas details)
As I transition back into a less computer-centric world, I occasionally lament that there is no Great Undo to withdraw my simple acts of human stupidity. But as I paint more, I also learn there ARE methods to undo error — but they're typically convoluted and require much time and energy to deconstruct and reconstruct. Control-ZZZZZZ.
My latest painting effort began in April, and combines scenes from our visit to the old town near where I lived as a kid. It also steals a Beatles' jacket from the Sgt. Pepper album, throws in my fiddle, a friend's trumpet and a Fender Stratocaster as homage to the gentleman central to the composition, Stewart McDonald.
Stewart's a Scottish photographer and musician I briefly met online discussing HDR photography. He posted a highly stylized self-portrait, and I commented that it would make a really cool painting. He visited my site and saw that I painted, and offered permission to use it. After many iterations of concepts, I went back to my childhood...
I think that's what we must do as we reach a certain point in the aging process. So, here I go! The painting is entitled "Aldeburgh Festival." Commenced in 1948, it's now called the Aldeburgh Festival of Music and the Arts. I imagined creating a poster for the event, and this is it...
The near-finished painting, Aldeburgh Festival. (Click to enlarge and scan the canvas details)
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