shew
I’ve just finished giving another working tour of the paintings I’ve been making this year.
& I don’t know if they’re going to buy or not, they have to think about it. (which is fair, paintings cost a lot of money)
but i find myself to be : emotional.
Exhausted : from not sleeping much last night (got home from the party at 4:30, up at 8 to cook breakfast for the guests)
Weary : from explaining art history and theory.
Excited : that people want to know more about art and grow in their understanding of what art IS, outside of Norman Rockwell.
A little sad : that sometimes people can’t understand what I make or do, that sometimes it’s perceived as invalid. I’m not speaking about the people who came to look at my paintings, but rather people who have discouraged and shamed me (and lots of painters, through the years) from making abstract work, or questioned its validity.
how do you explain and quantify something like this?
Here in Knoxville, I find myself giving a brief lesson on art history, with a focus on ab-ex, to almost all potential painting buyers. This is curious to me, and I wonder what it would be like to sell (in NY, for example) to collectors, or people who have art backgrounds. In some ways, it could be so nice..
My friend K is represented by a gallery, so she doesn’t really have to explain her paintings to anyone, to except to magazines and writing artist statements for shows. right now, that sounds heavenly. But also, that means that her art is up for much more discussion—people can definitely make their own assumptions and decisions about the work. Which could be really awful.
AND I love teaching people about art from my perspective, which is full of love and excitement and wonder, full of feminism and strength, power and belonging. but, honestly, not that well-informed. I have so much to learn about these things, I hate to be the Authority on Art in anyone’s life.
It makes me wonder what is going to happen on my journey. Am I always going to be cooking breakfast for people who want to buy my paintings, explaining myself over grapefruit juice and a lap dog, biscuits? It seems very precious to me as well, in a way, very gentle. Also, now that i think about it, VERY Southern.
It makes me wonder : Am I selling my paintings, or selling myself? Are people excited about the work or my perspective of the work? Is that what I want? Can you even choose these things? K says that the way to success in the art world is working really hard and being really interesting (or, having a story that people want to engage with)– so I’m working on not hiding myself when I talk about my work, which sometimes means crying, and sometimes means telling frustrating truths (e.g. “This is a painting about how much i love painting.”).
Anyway. Just thinking about all of it.
I loved reading this. I guess I am probably like some of the people you talk to whose appreciation of art is shallow.
But what I read in this entry about you/your art does ring very true to me about other things in life. Trying (unsuccessfully) to explain how I think to people who don’t think the way I do (about things that really matter to me) is often demoralizing…discouraging. All I can really get from them sometimes is an unspoken word that says, “…um…OK. Let’s move on now.” And “let’s move on now” is a very disappointing thing to hear when you’re sharing your soul.
I hope this makes sense. You have an expansive soul, Emily.
I think the idea of having to sell your work is a big problem. Can we just enjoy the skill and effort some art shows. I painted for years on canvas. And today I wish I had painted walls. Or outdoor art. We have a park in my hometown that shows scepter of huge sizes. We allow folks to show their art in our library. But, as far as I know we do not have a shop that sells art works. The doing and the selling are both hard to do.
I spent 17 years working as an illustrator. The idea on working in the art world now that I am retired is far from my biggest desire.
Two years ago I left you a comment. This is the first time I have return to you blog.
I like this post a lot. And, the painting. I don’t like sales either (not one eeny little bit) but you have to remember that in the beginning, people don’t buy your art. They buy you. Then when you are big enough to be a product, and maybe even be represented, you’re still not off the hook. Nope. Still gotta be you. That’s why it’s a very good thing that you have that part down. Your work is going to last because you are the real thing. Your work shows that, your life shows that. Now sell, sell, sell!!!