Total Art Soul - For Artists

I've had a really big realization. No, really, this is serious. ;-) I've met a whole bunch of new people recently and almost all of them have wanted me to do them a painting.  Good for you I hear you say.  But, the reason I mention is is that I did not even try to sell them a painting.  I honestly never even mentioned it.

I have often said that to sell as an artist, you have to have face-to-face contact or have some kind of relationship with people.  I've lived in a busy place where I exhibited a lot, held private shows and received many commissions.  I didn't have to try hard, it just kind of happened.  I thought it was coincidence, that maybe times were good and that maybe people were just trying to make me happy.

Then I moved to a very isolated place.  My only contact with people was mostly online.  My exhibitions stopped, I could no longer do private shows as there was no one to invite and my commissions dried up.  This is also a very poor area with mainly agriculture.  Very beautiful, a wonderful place for holidays but not great if you need to have a career.

Suddenly, out of the blue, I met a whole bunch of new people.  Some in person and some online going way back in my past.  I suddenly began to get commissions again and sold some paintings.

To further back up my theory, if you look at some famous artists and how they lived or live, you'll see there is much to this theory.  Salvador Dali, Andy Warhol, Tracey Emmins were/are real social creatures.  Andy Warhol spent most of his life partying. He was always out and people were strangely drawn to him because of his strange dress sense and peculiar manner.  Tracey Emmins today is a total social butterfly.

What I've learned over the years is that selling art is as much about the personality of the artist as it is about the art.  Andy Warhol, by his own admission said it was easy to copy pictures so why would he do something original since he was successful at copying.  Personally, I would like to have a bi more integrity as an artist but you get my point.  He was successful mainly because of his personality and because he was 'out' there.

I think it's so easy as an artist just to lock yourself in your studio and immerse yourself in your art and never come out. The key is that you have to be able to go to these extremes. You have to be able to lose yourself in your work, be solitary to think creatively but at other times, you have to be the total opposite and be out there and show yourself to the world.

This is clearly why so many famous artists lived or live in cities.  Tucking yourself away in a rural part of the country is all well and good if you want to create but it's useless if you want to show off your work.  Much as it pains some of us, it's the ability to show off that gets you noticed. It doesn't come easy to me. I'm always filled with self-doubt. If I want to sustain a life as a full time artist, I have to push myself in this direction and come out of my comfort zone.

It made me realize that if I lived in a more populated area, just sat in the local cafe drinking coffee all day and talking with people, I would sell paintings!  I would not have to try, people would be naturally curious to know what I did just like the people that have just come into my life.  How easy it is! Now I really can't wait to move!! Anyone want to buy a house in France? ;-)

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A blog I created in the Spring which I thought I would share here (as it's started again!)

It's Sunday. It's 10 o'clock. I'm sitting at the kitchen table with a tea and the local paper. The weather is still a bit on the cold side but there is strong sunshine as Spring has finally arrived and my thoughts are turning to some jobs which need doing in the garden (or rather how I can avoid them until Jenny's impatience gets the better of her and she makes a start). I like Sundays. This quiet, rural corner of Suffolk is still relatively old fashioned and so reminds me of the Sundays of my childhood when everything was closed. People could relax, families would take a gentle walk to help digest the Sunday roast, brass bands could be heard in the distance performing in the park where old men played bowls on the green.....

Suddenly and without warning, my rambling nostalgic thoughts are savagely interrupted as the peace is shattered by an ear splitting crash, then another, then another. WTF! Wiping the spilled tea from my chin and putting my mug down I jump from my seat and head out front to see what's happening. The mind numbing racket has settled into a regular, deafening rhythm and I realise it's meant to be some type of music. Crash! Crash! Crash! It goes on and on monotonously.

At the end of my street, about 50 yards away there is a large and very old building in a poor state of repair which most of the time stands empty but I can tell this earth shattering noise is coming from there. Bang! Crash! Bang! Crash! Relentlessly it continues. I'm aware now of the people streaming toward the building. People in ghastly, garish clothing. Weird hair styles, ridiculous heavy make-up. Some look intimidating, others just pitiful. Cars are arriving from all directions, spilling out their cargo of more and more of these creatures. Shrill voices shrieking greetings to one another just add to the cacophony. A couple walk past me and, although I know they can't hear me above the noise, I mouth a profanity at them before there is a tug on my elbow and Jenny drags me inside. She's seen in the past how my temper can get me into trouble.

I get more and more worked up, tense inside, heart racing, blood boiling. I know this isn't good for me but I can't calm down.

Just as I'm fit to explode the noise stops, the blissful silence almost as deafening as the chaos before. What's happened? Have the police arrived? No. The relief is mercilessly short lived as within a minute my ears are assaulted by another barrage. Now there are spine chilling vocals, a terrible wailing as if every tortured soul from hell has been released at once. Even with every door and window of the house tightly closed there is no respite, no relief. On and on it goes and gradually my thoughts turn to violence.

There is a small door at the end of the building and I'm pretty sure that's where the worst of the sounds originated from. Like some ancient warrior visualising a forthcoming battle that he knows he can't survive, I'm thinking about kicking down this door and sending the dog in first for thirty seconds or so to cause some pandemonium of my own, then wading in myself to have at them with my torque wrench. Thankfully there is a reassuring hand on my shoulder to calm and dissuade me from doing anything rash, but I'm not sure how much more I can take as the noise changes once again to the original terrible, monotonous din. Crash! Bang! Crash! Bang! On it goes, now faster and even louder than before. Our eyes lock on to each others across the kitchen table as we wait it out, no conversation possible, none needed. Surely it can't be much longer. Bang! Crash! Bang! Crash! BANG!...........then silence......peace.....quiet.

As my ears adjust I can again hear the shrieking, shrill voices this time screaming farewells. Car doors slamming, tyres spinning, gravel spraying as they drive away. I go back out the front to watch the last of them leave, seemingly oblivious to the disruption and misery they've inflicted upon us. My quiet neighbourhood slowly returns to it's former peaceful normality and I'm left thinking..........

“Why oh why did we choose to live so close to a church”

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I really like taking time lapse photography.  I think its fun to play with light and the lens and make patterns and abstractions.  The camera becomes like a canvas with artificial light becoming the paint strokes.  How you move the camera and the lens creates colorful line work.

I started back doing this with film a long time ago back in Chicago and now have worked up with my Nikon D60 that has a great light sensor. Back in the day, you couldn't instantly see your photo and it was expensive; thank goddess for digital!

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So, you have caught me doing my very first blog.  It's rather intimidating.  First, and foremost, I have never considered myself a writer in any sense of the word; second, why waste the time mulling my thoughts on paper when I'd rather be in the studio painting?

I promise nothing in this.  If you find yourself still reading this, should I apologize in advance?

Last night, I got into a brief Twitter discussion with another artist and it lead to some rather deep introspection of myself as an artist and what it means to be an artist.  I am not going to go into really deep psychoanalysis about my thoughts at this time... mainly because it will just be a wonderful excuse to quit doing this, and secondly, I think I just need to take baby steps.

So, where did this discussion lead? Well, it started with my ponderings on why pears are such a prevalent subject matter in art?  I mean really, why?  Of course, in all my years of painting, I've never painted a pear.  The woman I was chatting with, did one, and now is obsessed with pears.  Her avatar is one of her painted pears.  We never did discuss the deep conscious/subconscious reasons for this obsession, but it did pique my interest enough to experiment myself.

I have absolutely no question in myself that I am quite capable of painting a lovely pear.  I do question what I will get out of it.  I will report, as necessary, as soon as I start.

Another topic that was broached was the Bravo show - Work of Art, the  Next Great Artist.

Maybe I am just a complete ignoramus as an artist, but I was completely fascinated with the program... as long as you look past the forced melodrama and narcissism.  I am the first to accuse myself of not painting/creating outside of the box.  I've had enough negative things happen in my life... I just don't really feel like doing a postmortem on it.  I want to paint beauty, so I paint beauty.  Where has that gotten me?  Nowhere, really.

On the show, there were subject matters that have NEVER crossed my mind to explore.  Geez, I guess I should have paid a little more attention in my studies back in college... but I was always daydreaming.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I think I really really need to start pushing my own boundries and really truly start exploring art.  Wow, even as I type that, I start having a panicky feeling creep in around the edges.  Hmmmm, now I really need to push myself.

Soooooo... I'm off.

To be continued.... :-)

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I have been absent from my blog for a few days but working hard to get ready to show my work again.

There were a lot of hours involved in this drawing but I hope you think it was worth it :)

She is one of the lionessess at the Isle of Wight zoo and I just thought she was wonderfull.  She will be my centrepiece at the Garlic Festival this weekend.

If you are around the Isle of Wight, come and say hi :)

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