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)
Monday, April 24, 2017
Getting Lucky in a College Town
I attended the Santa Fe College Spring Art Festival in Gainesville April 1–2, 2017 and was really fortunate to both collect an Award of Excellence and sell a painting! It was somewhat redeeming to be acknowledged in this particular judged ranking (top-to-bottom ranking goes: Best of Show; Award of Excellence; Award of Distinction; Award of Merit). Only last month I was in my hometown, and couldn't muster any acknowledgement of the sort. A slight "clash" with the judge from the get-go occurred on what was — and was not — "photorealism" and it was all downhill from there. It's been said, only respond to questions and shut the hell up, otherwise, when it comes to talking to judges...
The painting Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright couldn't have been sold it to a better patron. He's an author and radio host on the topic of dream journaling, dream recall and dream integration. Originally I sold him a print, but he contacted me online later the first day of the show to say he wanted the original painting. Of course, I've been given the "I'll be back" line before, but we met the next morning before the show began and sealed the deal.
The painting Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright couldn't have been sold it to a better patron. He's an author and radio host on the topic of dream journaling, dream recall and dream integration. Originally I sold him a print, but he contacted me online later the first day of the show to say he wanted the original painting. Of course, I've been given the "I'll be back" line before, but we met the next morning before the show began and sealed the deal.
To my own amazement, as much psychic energy as I put into that work, it left me with no pangs of departure whatsoever! It couldn't have gone to a better home, and may all my positive energies pass on to whomever may view it henceforth.
While I am somewhat acutely attuned to my own intuitions and senses, I simply take them for granted as everyday experiences, and don't put much emphasis on their significance, though I note their symbolism. Thanks to Sting's Jungian songwriting, I used to log my dreams, and journal, but I think I put too much emphasis on hoping some cure-all would come of things, and soon. So I trailed off. These days I rarely dream, or at least have recall. And not all dreams are positive — I once awoke from a dream of kicking an attacking alligator in the snout, only to find my wife's feet at the other end... A reason not to dream, perhaps.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Eking Forward (Yes, That's a Word)
I don't typically write about something before it happens, but I'll be in Gainesville this coming Friday setting up for the Sante Fe College Spring Art Festival over the weekend.
Thinking about the limited range of my efforts, we decided that some "spinoffs" as supporting cast to a larger painting would serve to catapult its brethren by collective association. Artist Christopher Still is meticulous in his pre-project studies and I've seen a great niche market he has created by showing and selling these alongside his "master" painting.
Already late into the process, in the short term I simply needed to create smaller, accessible paintings. The buyer of anything large I might sell is already a one-in-one-thousand or greater odd. Smaller paintings are for smaller walls. Let's get real.
So, in a contrived reverse mode, I created alternative spinoff components of a "master." Hung together as a grouping, I feel amplifies the works such that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. That's Aristotle, by the way. I think he was Jackie O's rich husband or something.
Here's some iPhone shots of the 8x8-inch spinoffs...
Still figgerin'. Hope to see you there!
Thinking about the limited range of my efforts, we decided that some "spinoffs" as supporting cast to a larger painting would serve to catapult its brethren by collective association. Artist Christopher Still is meticulous in his pre-project studies and I've seen a great niche market he has created by showing and selling these alongside his "master" painting.
Already late into the process, in the short term I simply needed to create smaller, accessible paintings. The buyer of anything large I might sell is already a one-in-one-thousand or greater odd. Smaller paintings are for smaller walls. Let's get real.
So, in a contrived reverse mode, I created alternative spinoff components of a "master." Hung together as a grouping, I feel amplifies the works such that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. That's Aristotle, by the way. I think he was Jackie O's rich husband or something.
Here's some iPhone shots of the 8x8-inch spinoffs...
Still figgerin'. Hope to see you there!
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
The Sweet Misery of Happiness
My last showing at the Lake Wales Art Festival (February 2017) was nice, in that, again, I met some GREAT folks! I also was selected for an Award of Excellence. There was a very broad range of awards and prize monies at this event, even though it's relatively in the middle of nowhere on the edge of the very small downtown of Lake Wales.
Once again, I dragged a couple of my "completed" paintings just a little further by adding new compositional elements to each. Where I recently added several hummingbirds to the self portrait/figure study (entitled, Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright), I squelched the question finally as to just "why" those birds are flittering around my head — it's because of the flowers emanating from my hands and hidden face! I certainly hope it's at last done!
And for The Moth Eater, I added depth to a studio image by putting a horizon and pastoral scene behind the subject...
Once again, I dragged a couple of my "completed" paintings just a little further by adding new compositional elements to each. Where I recently added several hummingbirds to the self portrait/figure study (entitled, Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright), I squelched the question finally as to just "why" those birds are flittering around my head — it's because of the flowers emanating from my hands and hidden face! I certainly hope it's at last done!
And for The Moth Eater, I added depth to a studio image by putting a horizon and pastoral scene behind the subject...
I wish I was a faster painter... more driven and prolific. But I certainly don't need the baggage of being so wrapped up in my artwork and its "meaning" as to be removed from my real existence —which, by the way — is blissful and beautiful already. Oh the sweet misery of happiness!
Monday, December 5, 2016
Honored by the Kind People I Meet
In preparation for my most recent showing at the Dunedin Art Harvest this November (2016), I made some modifications to a couple of existing, completed paintings. I was trying to follow some personal advice from a very friendly (and extraordinary) local artist, Steven Kenny: Tell a story. But let the viewer assemble the tale— you just provide the props.
Steven's work is mostly surrealistic. While always a great fan of surrealism, I must not have met the minimum mushroom or hallucinogen intake in my youth to effectively have capitalized on the fantastic. Too rational. Too tied-to-reality. Too ... real?
A simple figure study suddenly suggests a narrative when a small bird and a moth etching in a locket are added. There's a Portlandia episode, "Put a Bird On It" that comes to mind!
Another simple figure study (self portrait) adds several hovering hummingbirds and an ominous sky to imply a story where none actually exists!
Another cool coincidence occurred: Papa Bear of the Biker and Dog painting showed up! An acquaintance recognized Jack, and put us in touch. He stopped by for a gratis print of him and Little Bear, his comfort dog. Looking forward to a homeless vet fund-raiser with Jack and Little Bear.
Steven's work is mostly surrealistic. While always a great fan of surrealism, I must not have met the minimum mushroom or hallucinogen intake in my youth to effectively have capitalized on the fantastic. Too rational. Too tied-to-reality. Too ... real?
A simple figure study suddenly suggests a narrative when a small bird and a moth etching in a locket are added. There's a Portlandia episode, "Put a Bird On It" that comes to mind!
Another simple figure study (self portrait) adds several hovering hummingbirds and an ominous sky to imply a story where none actually exists!
Where all this leads, is that these simple narrative devices substantially elevated the same show content that couldn't muster a print sale or secure placing in the competitive component of a show in Brooksville earlier this year. I believe curled paper won best of show, and I lost out in the painting category to painted gourds. But the art gods smiled upon me in Dunedin — and a Florida photographer friend, Adam Pourciau. We had per chance sat together and each of us received an Award of Merit and $600!
Another cool coincidence occurred: Papa Bear of the Biker and Dog painting showed up! An acquaintance recognized Jack, and put us in touch. He stopped by for a gratis print of him and Little Bear, his comfort dog. Looking forward to a homeless vet fund-raiser with Jack and Little Bear.
And last but not least, a very talented and generous photographer Mikell Herrick stopped by and chatted. Later she posted this absolutely beautiful shot of the inside of my tent:
As always, the BEST part of these shows are the kind and generous people you meet.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Art Is a Strange Beast
Just got back from the Mayfair by-the-lake art show in beautiful downtown Lakeland. Once again, not much to show for our efforts but a tan — and the new connections with very nice people, specifically the artists. Not their great works, per se, but their earnest interest and kind, generous words.
Beforehand, I was wallowing deep in indecision as to continue this tack. Then, several conversations ensued with folks who approached me to express their appreciation for my artworks. These were also artists, and their encouragement and discussion regarding how to find a channel that met both my urge to create and show, and a potential customer base. Productive, positive vibes. Thanks.
When things start to turn commercial, I admit, I begin to lose it. I've always turned AWAY FROM the money, and I'm not really sure why. Perhaps I sense it's corrupting. Perhaps money's not something that I really need so badly; lucky, but still relatively broke. Perhaps the whole gig of being an artist is all a little pompous and preposterous. I wish I knew. I DO know that I prefer to stay in the shallow waters; I've met too many folks with an inflated sense of self worth that gets them in way over their head. Never pretty.
Art is a strange beast. I have acquired — or been blessed with — a certain skill set or two that I can at-will choose to exercise for various reasons: To explore my own psyche; catapult a venture; impress the impressionable; make a quick a buck — or not... Each seems at odds with the other. Can all of these be accomplished simultaneously, without contradiction? Dunno.
So, while I have a little time before the fall season to consider/reconsider putting out more money on entry fees, lots of introspection will occur as I finish some carpentry and masonry jobs around the house in the summer heat. Always good to have these types of questions running through my mind while laboring, rather than regret or fantasy. At least their consideration will ultimately bear some fruit. And I'm feeling hungry.
Below: My latest painting (a self portrait) and the tent as viewed from the promenade. Do I look just a little angst-ridden?
Beforehand, I was wallowing deep in indecision as to continue this tack. Then, several conversations ensued with folks who approached me to express their appreciation for my artworks. These were also artists, and their encouragement and discussion regarding how to find a channel that met both my urge to create and show, and a potential customer base. Productive, positive vibes. Thanks.
When things start to turn commercial, I admit, I begin to lose it. I've always turned AWAY FROM the money, and I'm not really sure why. Perhaps I sense it's corrupting. Perhaps money's not something that I really need so badly; lucky, but still relatively broke. Perhaps the whole gig of being an artist is all a little pompous and preposterous. I wish I knew. I DO know that I prefer to stay in the shallow waters; I've met too many folks with an inflated sense of self worth that gets them in way over their head. Never pretty.
Art is a strange beast. I have acquired — or been blessed with — a certain skill set or two that I can at-will choose to exercise for various reasons: To explore my own psyche; catapult a venture; impress the impressionable; make a quick a buck — or not... Each seems at odds with the other. Can all of these be accomplished simultaneously, without contradiction? Dunno.
So, while I have a little time before the fall season to consider/reconsider putting out more money on entry fees, lots of introspection will occur as I finish some carpentry and masonry jobs around the house in the summer heat. Always good to have these types of questions running through my mind while laboring, rather than regret or fantasy. At least their consideration will ultimately bear some fruit. And I'm feeling hungry.
Below: My latest painting (a self portrait) and the tent as viewed from the promenade. Do I look just a little angst-ridden?
Thursday, March 3, 2016
2016 In Full Swing
"Been awhile," he wrote to himself, knowing full well the audience scope of his blog. But that's okay — this whole process of creating paintings can be like talking to one's self for long, long stretches of time.
Just now finishing up a month-long one-man show of my first works at the Michele Tuegel Contemporary gallery in St. Petersburg. Thanks to my many old friends — and new ones that attended out of curiosity — for your moral support and kind company at the show's opening!
Wrapping up my latest painting, "Uroboros and the Serpent Handler" (below) just moments ago; a few touch-ups and a varnish before my next appearance at the Art in the Park event in Brooksville, March 12 and 13. I'll be focused a little more on presentation this go-round. We'll see if that helps to create a viewer's psychological elevation of the works exhibited... Hope to see you there!
About Uroboros and the Serpent Handler
In a dry period of struggling with where to go, what to do, et cetera — all the things one does in the process of second-guessing one's creative self — I was sitting in the dark with coffee early one morning, when an image randomly appeared in my mind's eye: a nude figure (mine) was curled inside a box on a quilt. So I sketched it out, so as to not lose the thought, and immediately commenced conjuring a means to construct a box into which I ultimately crawled into, and, using the camera's self-timer, took a few images.
However... What was THAT all about?
I had no idea why the image seemed so arresting to me, yet meant absolutely nothing! I saw similarities in old masters paintings of the descension of Christ from the cross. As I commenced the painting, I was feeling doubts about a Christ image — especially since I was the model. I read much on the topic of artists throughout art history who modeled images of Christ after themselves. I mean, who is the most-available model to an artist, but himself? Finally after many discussions on the topic, I saw the trepidation of the concept in the eyes of friends and family. But I plodded onward. Finally, after testing a few of the wounds of crucifixion on the image, even I decided, "No way!" And so I investigated a geometric symbol within the square area of the composition, and decided a circle worked best, interweaving itself with the figure.
Uroboros: A circular symbol depicting a snake, or less commonly a dragon, swallowing its tail, as an emblem of wholeness or infinity.
But as I near its completion, I have but one recommendation for other artists before embarking on a representation of a uroboros: Don't! That's a lot of snake scales to render, and there was as much study of Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake markings that went into this as there was general painting of the figure and quilt!
Later! (Likely MUCH later!)
Just now finishing up a month-long one-man show of my first works at the Michele Tuegel Contemporary gallery in St. Petersburg. Thanks to my many old friends — and new ones that attended out of curiosity — for your moral support and kind company at the show's opening!
Wrapping up my latest painting, "Uroboros and the Serpent Handler" (below) just moments ago; a few touch-ups and a varnish before my next appearance at the Art in the Park event in Brooksville, March 12 and 13. I'll be focused a little more on presentation this go-round. We'll see if that helps to create a viewer's psychological elevation of the works exhibited... Hope to see you there!
About Uroboros and the Serpent Handler
In a dry period of struggling with where to go, what to do, et cetera — all the things one does in the process of second-guessing one's creative self — I was sitting in the dark with coffee early one morning, when an image randomly appeared in my mind's eye: a nude figure (mine) was curled inside a box on a quilt. So I sketched it out, so as to not lose the thought, and immediately commenced conjuring a means to construct a box into which I ultimately crawled into, and, using the camera's self-timer, took a few images.
However... What was THAT all about?
I had no idea why the image seemed so arresting to me, yet meant absolutely nothing! I saw similarities in old masters paintings of the descension of Christ from the cross. As I commenced the painting, I was feeling doubts about a Christ image — especially since I was the model. I read much on the topic of artists throughout art history who modeled images of Christ after themselves. I mean, who is the most-available model to an artist, but himself? Finally after many discussions on the topic, I saw the trepidation of the concept in the eyes of friends and family. But I plodded onward. Finally, after testing a few of the wounds of crucifixion on the image, even I decided, "No way!" And so I investigated a geometric symbol within the square area of the composition, and decided a circle worked best, interweaving itself with the figure.
Uroboros: A circular symbol depicting a snake, or less commonly a dragon, swallowing its tail, as an emblem of wholeness or infinity.
But as I near its completion, I have but one recommendation for other artists before embarking on a representation of a uroboros: Don't! That's a lot of snake scales to render, and there was as much study of Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake markings that went into this as there was general painting of the figure and quilt!
Later! (Likely MUCH later!)
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Art Festivals Are Hard Work!
In 2015, I attended a few art festivals (Brooksville, Winter Park and Ocala) ... Only three shows in to this "alternate reality" endeavor, I'm learning a consistent, humble lesson, for sure: People are the best part of these events. Not just the public at large, but the folks you chance to be located near in booth assignments, and the artists you engage in conversation with across the gamut of styles, niches and media.
So, with that "glass half-full" perspective, I can still say that selling little or nothing is not as entirely disappointing as it may sound. Of course — I don't know how long I could continue on this course due to the funds required to sustain it, but the willingness to share ideas, insights and encouragement from one's peers is super nice.
So, with that "glass half-full" perspective, I can still say that selling little or nothing is not as entirely disappointing as it may sound. Of course — I don't know how long I could continue on this course due to the funds required to sustain it, but the willingness to share ideas, insights and encouragement from one's peers is super nice.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Gallery Showing — So Soon!
While I'm not at any record-setting pace, I'll be showing some of my figurative paintings done in 2014– 2015 at Michele Tuegel Contemporary beginning this weekend until early February 2016. Those who know me certainly know this pace, however, exceeds all my expectations.
My expectations were tempered with (1) not really knowing if I had the discipline to create this body of work; or (2) whether such an opportunity as a gallery event might even be accessible to me so early on this path. Everything I've read on the topic of galleries cautioned that it could take a substantial period — years even — of building a reputation and catalog, in addition to much good luck!
Well the "good luck" part happened in spades when I made the acquaintance of Michele Tuegel and Gilbert Johnson. It's a blessing to be on the receiving end their kindness and earnest feedback. I hope I can make Michele's investments of faith in artists and business acumen profit her this New Year!
My expectations were tempered with (1) not really knowing if I had the discipline to create this body of work; or (2) whether such an opportunity as a gallery event might even be accessible to me so early on this path. Everything I've read on the topic of galleries cautioned that it could take a substantial period — years even — of building a reputation and catalog, in addition to much good luck!
Well the "good luck" part happened in spades when I made the acquaintance of Michele Tuegel and Gilbert Johnson. It's a blessing to be on the receiving end their kindness and earnest feedback. I hope I can make Michele's investments of faith in artists and business acumen profit her this New Year!
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