My Blogland

As the cooler weather takes over, I shuffle through the fallen orange, red and yellow leaves. I breathe in the crisp air infused with woodsmoke. Then I rush inside to get some hot cocoa (really it's that iced coffee I'm addicted to) and get on the computer. There's nothing like those autumn days spent surfing on the computer.

As a result of this surfing, I have added new arty blogs to my sidebar.

Cindy Pestka at Artgirl Island
Aimee at Artsyville
Lori Vliegen at Elvie Studio

Dana Barbieri at Create Share Inspire
Elizabeth St. Hilaire Nelson at Paper Paintings

I am unable to comment on those last two blogs listed. I'm suspecting embedded comments again. I want them to know that I am a regular reader but just am unable to be a regular commenter.

One of my goals in blogging is to share interesting blogs with others. I'm sharing these blogs because I feel they have the same goal of sharing. Their blogs include links to other blogs and/or show their followers. I most definitely appreciate that. I did come across a couple of other blogs that I was excited about following and sharing, but ultimately, I changed my mind. The most recent was ALL about the author. Her book, her magazine articles, her galleries, where else to find her work. Her sidebar was very full of herself. And not a mention about anyone else. Grrrrrrr.

Please feel free to share with me any blogs you think I might enjoy.

I am now off to photograph my three newest pieces. A few weeks ago, my husband showed me how to attach my camera to the tripod. Do you think I will be able to do it? I'm off to wrestle with technology. I NEVER come out on top in one of those contests. NEVER.

Overwhelmed? Underwhelmed?

I've been away from the computer for approximately 72 hours. And now I feel completely lost. Damn computers. Why don't I just turn off the technological world and go create? Can I really do that?

On Friday, we went down to Roanoke, VA, to visit my mom in the hospital. We found out by talking to her doctor (something she had done only once, briefly) whom we ran into in the hall, that she did not have a heart attack. At least this year. He thinks she had a gastro-intestinal bug. Everyone one else (no doctors included) think that it was a reaction to her new heart medicine which he had prescribed. Anyway, we went to visit at the hospital Friday night, and she was released soon after we got there. She seems to slowly be recovering. Not easy when you have severe acid reflux, kidney problems, circulation problems, etc. The worry had me overwhelmed. The medical world, well, it leaves me underwhelmed. No one doctor seems to know what another has done or prescribed. So frustrating.

Now I am home and catching up on the blog world. So many artists have done so many wonderful things over the weekend. And these wonderful things have been photographed and documented and discussed. For all I know, spiders have taken over MY studio. Other artists blogs are asking deep questions or showing youtube videos of masterpiece making. I got nothing. So perhaps I should share what other people are doing.

Bridgette Guerzon Mills explains her results to an artistic exercise. One I am reluctant to do for what it may reveal about me.

Robyn Gordon at Art Propelled has gathered another round of artists, this time the theme being handwriting, text and type. All fantastic artists.

Jennifer DeDonato at Colorfly Studio has shared an awesome link to Dan the Monster Man, a papier mache artist.

Jo James is whipping up even more cool critters.

And Paula at Self Taught Artist talks about what it takes to put away your art (at least temporarily) and start your life over.

But here I sit on a Monday morning in front of the computer reading about all of this fantastic art and these creative lives. I feel overwhelmed. I don't know how I can possibly create with such incredible talent already out there. Then I think of what I have been doing lately. I really like my new little pieces, but I feel underwhelmed by them.

Perhaps it is the domestic day I am having. Yes, one of these housewife days. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It is just not the day I want. It is Monday. I'm supposed to be excited about getting into the studio. But instead, I have cleaned the bathroom (really needed it), eaten some bonbons, and I am now waiting for the Maytag repair man. He's supposed to come between 10:00 and 12:00. Anybody wanna liven things up by placing bets on when he will actually arrive. And then we can make bets about the cost of the repair on the dishwasher. Let me start . . .

11:15
$185.00

I've got no more to say. Gonna start some laundry and get out the Swiffer. I'd watch some stories on the TV, but that's not necessary as long as there's Facebook.

Bad Artitude

Over this morning’s breakfast of Fruity Cheerios, I flipped through a 2-year-old magazine. This issue contained an article entitled, “Braving the New Art World.” I’m assuming that the economic “downturn” that occurred since this article was published has given this new art world a kick in the pants. Perhaps there are fewer buyers (read investors) these days, but I’m guessing that the attitude is still there.

The hedge fund managers that the article states are the ones tossing money at celebrity artists have probably done an about face. No doubt their purchasing power has been replaced by another group of those art buyers who must show the world they have deep pockets and high, selective taste. I am not a part of this group. Nor will I ever be. Yeah, I know, never say never. But I do not think I will ever have the money or the bad artitude to collect with impunity. My desire is to LOVE what I purchase. Or, at least to love what I may not be able to purchase. I do not wish to collect to show others that I have the means to collect. I have no desire to place an investment on my wall, no matter how trendy, to gaze at every day.

I would rather attend my local art fair (which isn’t really all that local, its just nearby), than wear some lacerating high heels and Prada attire to patronize Art Basel Miami Beach with a pack of hoity toities in similar garb. Art buying is not a “scene,” at least not for me. I do not feel the need to have my artwork assault me with images of evisceration, rape, or feces, disturbing art being quite popular these days. On the other hand, I do not want a work I’m considering purchasing to require a user’s manual to understand its deeper than deep meaning, also quite popular these days.

This article informs me that I must do a lot of research before I am educated enough to considering purchasing art. I must visit dozens (at least) of galleries to see the “newest, most compelling work,” first. I’ve got to read the art magazines and ask questions in museums and at those dozens (hundreds) of galleries. Then, and ONLY then, can I try to prove my worthiness to a gallery owner. Heaven forbid I just walk into a gallery with cash falling from my pockets and orifices. The dealer wants to sell to important collectors. Those whose names “everybody” knows. Not to little ole me. Gosh, I’m so stupid. I don’t even know any “important” collectors, let alone be one myself. If little ole me is lucky, I could get put at the bottom of a waiting list. For an important all-white work of monkeys being eviscerated. That may or may not come with an owner's manual for understanding. Now, if I’m lucky, really lucky, I could get on the waiting list to purchase a half-million dollar work of a handful of words stenciled on a white canvas in black letters. What the . . . ? I could go to the local sign-maker and have him whip me up something for $30.00. But then when I threw a wing ding at my home, I couldn’t just say “Look here, I have a piece by Ed the Signmaker.” No one would give a sh*t. And frankly, in the crowd I hang in, no one would give a sh*t if I owned the $500,000 piece. Perhaps I just have a bad artitude. I refuse to give into this elitist thinking in regard to art. I’m one of the lowly idiots that thinks art is an expression rather than a commodity.

Then, there is the matter of the required, page-long artist statement. Overworked artist’s statements just leave me exhausted. I just can’t make the connection between an artist being able to use the words context, dichotomy, manifested, inferred, ostensible, divergent, conceptual, and juxtaposition, and fine art itself. Are artist’s statements that use such words just a method for weeding out the weak-minded. These statements imply “If you don’t get it, you don’t deserve to have it. Fool.” If an artist talking about his or her work causes my dictionary to burst into flames, well it just isn’t worth it to me. I’ll never make it in this world as a collector.

The word dichotomy is a must-use word in artist’s statements. Wanna know what it means. My not-so-trusty old American Heritage dictionary defines it as:

1. Division into two usually contradictory parts or opinions; schism. 2. The division or subdivision of a class into two mutually exclusive groups.


So, there you have it. Art buyers can be divided into two mutually exclusive groups. Those who buy it because they love it, and those who buy it just to impress others. Am I making this too simple? You tell me. Am I right? Or do I just have a bad artitude?

Fantastic Arts Festival

I can't believe I haven't posted a blog in a week. But I have been busy. Not working at the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts, but pretty much living there for the past four days. Shown here are a few of our purchases. We bought several gifts, but I didn't want to show them here just in case a family member decides to read my blog.

I will share with you a few of my favorite artists and crafts people.

My birthday gift from my husband is the oil painting on the left. John Maurer's paintings brought out the stalker in me. I circled this painting for three days like a buzzard. Every year, I purchase a bagful of gifts and refrigerator magnets from Creative Works. I really, really just want to move into their booth, or maybe have their booth move into my home. Another stalking moment was brought on by the jewelry of Olga Ganoudis. My necklace is shown draped over an elephant papercut by Jupi Das. Not pictured (because I am wearing them) are earrings by Staci Egan of Contempo Jewelry. Also not pictured (because I did not have enough money) are awesome works by batik artist Chuck Kaiser, and woodcut artist Jenny Pope.

I wish to win the lottery and do it all again. I am always so sad when the festival is over. I have great appreciation for the artists than can deal with doing these shows. I can't imagine enduring the loading, travel, set up, constant dealing with customers, festival food, heat, insects, hotels, tear down, loading, travel.

I am surprised at so many of the comments I hear at these festivals:

Can I get that any cheaper?
I can make that myself!
How long does it take to make that?
I bet that only takes an hour to make.
If they were real artists, their work would be in a gallery.
What an easy life to travel and sell art.
My kid could do that!
Why does that cost so much?
I almost made it through the festival without buying anything.

I am surprised at the rudeness I saw . . . which is worse, a customer smoking in someone's tent or licking a dripping ice cream cone over someone's work?

If there are any festival artists that read this blog, I bow to you.

Eating, Praying(?), Loving and Thanking

I am not in the studio today.  Last Friday I finished up four new pieces which have yet to be named and photographed.  As usual, the naming is difficult.

I spent this morning cruising blogs, cursing the computer, staring at the ceiling, and email whining to my oldest  (not age-wise, of course) blogging friend Paula.  Paula and I have done lots of bitching and complaining through emails.  I do appreciate her putting up with me.  We have been able to complain together about sales and dozens of other things I do not want to reveal here.  Like me, Paula is a self-taught artist.  Unlike me, Paula is a self-taught marketer.  When I tend to put my head down and whimper, Paula is resourceful and full of grit (that is a good thing).  She has put in a lot of time and effort to get me going.  And it takes a lot to get me going.  Paula is my own personal Wise Woman.

I do my best not to whine on my blog, although I know it still comes through at times.  And then, sometimes I rant.  Lately, it seems I have been a little quieter.  I’ve been overwhelmed at marketing myself and underwhelmed with the marketing options.  I have to calm down, gather my work and wits about me and get going.  Soon. 

Anyway, onto eating, praying, and loving. . .

When I read an artist’s blog, I like to learn as much as possible about that person, including what books they are reading.  Well, one very popular book seems to be Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.  For some reason, I would always dismiss this book by thinking, “well if everyone is reading it, I don’t want to read it.”  Makes sense, right?  I told myself today, if I found one more reference to it, I would buy it.  I found one more.

I had to go to Target again this morning.  I had a request from my daughter for kids’ gardening gloves and Magic Markers that were not all dried out.  How could I not comply with a request like that?  So there in a display at the end of the aisle was that darn book.  I bought it.  And now I’ve got to read it.

I’m usually the one who poopoos what everyone else is doing.  I usually don’t care.  Sometimes I even roll my eyes.  Those who recommend this book seem to be nice, sweet, loving, “Zen”, wholesome women.  If I hang out with anyone, it is usually the surly, sarcastic, cussin’ crowd.  But I do look over enviously at those sweet, loving, wholesome women who seem to be having a good time together.

We’ll see how well this book sets with me.  I’m probably not going into it with the best of attitudes.  Although I do love eating.  Can’t cook worth a darn, though.  As far as praying, I don’t look up to a higher power who is capable of guiding us.  I do believe in this power in each of us, just not outside of us. And love, well love is good.   I could live without eating anything but raisins, but I couldn’t live without love.

So, wish me luck on this adventure.  See if I’m a changed person at the end.  If I don’t mention this book again, well, you’ll know that I’m off reading something dark, scary and sarcastic.

Anyone else read this book that didn’t admit to it already?

 

 

Thanks

Yesterday, on Paula's blog Self Taught Artist, there was a post about me. I am thrilled that someone thought me worthy of writing about. For most, if not all, artists, each day is filled with self-doubt. It is nice to get a little ego puff.

So if you find yourself with a few minutes, go have a look at the Self Taught Artist blog. Get the feel of day to day artist living. Learn about other artists. Read a review of an art documentary.

Thanks Paula! You are a very generous blogger.

Clean (or not no clean) Slate

The commission is complete. The check has been received and I have danced my jig. I will post a photo of the complete wallhanging when the family photographer gets a chance to take a photo.

This means I am now free to do whatever I want. I am in the middle of nothing (except cleaning up the studio). Where to begin? It is just a bit overwhelming. Kind of like going through the front gate turnstile at Disney World. I really to need to finish cleaning to get that clean slate feeling. However, there is so much cleaning to be done. It will just get dirty again. I think I will put away a couple of things, vacuum and then consolidate piles.

I felt the best place to begin was to do some blog surfing. A few days ago, I came across Elin Waterston's Blog. Elin is one of the authors of the Art Quilt Workbook. I must have been really affected by this book, as I have mentioned it twice this week. Elin has been doing a hand-carved stamp a day. Say, that is what I do sometimes when I am stuck. Well, not one a day, but I'll take a couple of hours, research some ideas and carve 2-3 simple stamps. That usually gets me in the mood to carve even more stamps, and before you know it, I've got ideas for several pieces or series stacked up in my head. One of my new stamps is shown above.

I have always loved colors and designs that are associated with Africa. Six weeks ago, when my family and I were in New York, my daughter and husband went to see The Lion King on Broadway. I did not go. I am an idiot. I will go the next time I am in New York. Anyway, for my husband and daughter, it was a positive life-changing experience. I love those kinds of experiences. My daughter asked for the book about the Broadway show for Christmas. The book goes into great detail about the entire production, including sketches for the costumes. So now, it is a life changing experience for me. I can't imagine what seeing the show in person will do to me.

Anyway, my next step is to carve more stamps. See where that takes me. I see a great deal of orange and red in my future. And to think that I used to hate orange. Don't say hate and never say never. Since the commission, I have purchased at least 18 new orange fabrics. I think a couple more have been ordered and are on their way.

One Cannot Live on One' s Art Alone

Do I hang art by other people in my home?

Absolutely! Would I only eat food cooked by myself? Heaven forbid. So why would I not fill my home with artwork by others? I NEED to. Art is food for the soul, and I must have a varied diet. The photo on the left shows two of my wallhangings. On the bottom shelf is one of my framed fabric and paper collages. The top shelf is a Hyacinth Manning print. I wish I could have afforded the original. The three green vases are by Andi Runt, who no longer makes ceramics. How very sad for me -- I have at least 15 of her pieces. The bottom shelf holds a ceramic pear by an artist who's name I have forgotten. There is a wooden bowl by Richard Cruise, a framed collage painting by Sylvia Moss, and an assemblage by Robert Villagmagna.

The second photo shows two ceramic wallhangings by Rhonda Cearlock, along with one of my pieces.

The third photo shows two paintings on the mantel, one of Central Park by John Dorish, the other by Sylvia Moss. The bitty thing is one of my fabric collages. The two masks are from my in-laws from an earlier trip to Africa. Over the mantel is another of my fabric collages. To the right is a framed print of a collage by a Chinese artist whose name I cannot remember.

To me, it all goes together. The best part is that I didn't have to travel the world (not that I don't want to), deal with art consultants, or pay an arm and a leg for any of these pieces. Even though I live in a fairly small town, we have a great art festival here each summer. Approximately 350 artists from all over the country come and spend 4 days in tents. And all I have to do is walk a few blocks from my house and be in the middle of it all. It sure does help that my birthday is the same time as the festival -- I get art for my birthday.

I'm curious as to what other artists display in their homes. Where do they get this art? From galleries, art festivals? Do they barter or trade? I have purchased only one painting from an actual gallery. Aside from a few flea market finds, all of my art has come from art festivals. Perhaps this is what I should consider when selling art. Maybe I should sell where I purchase. I do need to sell more art. I cannot live on my art alone.

What is Art?

Do you really think I can do this subject justice? I'll give it a lame try. I have stumbled across a handful of blogs that try to justify what they do as art & some blogs try to explain why what others create is not art. Seems like a bit of a waste of time when one posts pages and pages, quoting multitudes of people. I think the answer should be short and easy to arrive at.

One blog of interest belongs to Petra Voegtle. There are quite involved discussions of different views. Finally, the example of monkeys with cameras is brought to the front. If a monkey took a photograph, it would not be art. No a random act of photography would not be art. However, an intentional act of photography could be considered art. A person moved and inspired by a certain scene, could capture it with a photograph. Why would this not be considered art? Many arguements seem to point in the direction of complete originality. If we haven't invented something, done something, seen something, that has never been invented, done or seen before, then we cannot create art. I have heard this quote, although I do not know who said it, that "there is nothing new in the world." Then, would that mean that nothing we create is art?

My old college American Heritage dictionary (usually used for pressing leaves), defines art as the "Human effort to imitate, supplement, alter, or counteract the work of nature." Pretty broad, huh?

As I see it, art is the creation of a work, whether it is a painting, a quilt (original of course), sculpture, etc. Art is the creation! The finished work is just a piece of work. It sits in a museum, a gallery, a closet. . . until a viewer (the artist, a collector, or an innocent bystander) connects with this piece of work. This relationship once again makes the piece of work art.

Anybody agree?!?