Resolution-makers are flocking to the local fitness centers
with hopeful expressions, flushed cheeks, new workout clothes, and perhaps personal trainers for an extra dose of motivation….

Getting out of a rut- whether physical, personal, or artistic – is challenging.  Maybe you just finished a large body of work, and are stuck wondering what’s next? Maybe family or health issues have pulled you away.  The time thieves are everywhere.
There’s nothing like the calendar revealing a new year to prompt list-making, plan-concocting and reflecting. And creating hope for what’s to come.

Around here, I’ve been paying sales tax, sending out work, cleaning and rearranging the studio, using lino cuts from leftover calendars and turning them into greeting cards.  Now on to the paintings that have been patiently hanging, waiting for my more undivided attention.

There are good reasons to step away from your work for a time: just to look at it objectively, make mental notes, to conjure up new ideas about it, sometimes very fleeting thoughts that you had better write down or they vaporize.

Working on your own in a studio with just your work and little else to keep you company implies a sense of hope. That if you keep showing up it will yield something. Hope that you will continue to be challenged, to see the work deepen and grow, hope that you will have the opportunity to show it to others, or that some of it will find a forever home and enrich someone else’s daily life.

Something that also engenders hope is the arrival of a seed catalog.
With another fresh inch of snow on the ground, imagining veggies and flowers in the yard is indeed an act of optimism.
Plus the descriptions make you believe anything is possible!
“if you want a radish the size of a watermelon…” “produces 5 different kinds of peaches on one tree!”… ”astounding foot-long flowers”… “one of the greatest roses ever introduced” “you can’t believe how sweet this plant is”…”blooms from June until frost”…”virtually thornless, incredibly fragrant, shade tolerant, disease resistant……”

The color pictures show you the end result, not the years it may take to get there in some cases. The descriptions don’t describe the accumulation of time and of patience it will take to get that final result.

Kind of like paintings.
You see the digital image, but how can you possibly see the layers of possibilities and fumbling and insights that took place over time? The scraping and repainting? The false starts and then the soaring momentum when things are finally falling into place…

Perhaps I will begin to think of my sprouting paintings in the glowing, optimistic terms that bring such hope is the gardening realm –  “An astounding environment” …”the best grass ever painted”…”color that sings”… “incredibly rich and thought provoking”- then make myself work towards making those things happen.

Hope is a good framework on which to hang motivation.

(p.s. some of my discounted 2015 linocut calendars are still available, HERE  if you go for the luddite approach to managing your daily events)

…. you caught me….pondering my local arts scene … my place (or lack of it) within said art scene…how exhibiting has changed over the years, and, as a footnote, whether physical art galleries are still relevant as a venue for me.  (answer to last question- perhaps not.)

I am not sure why there is this recent expectation that anyone self-identified as an ‘artist’ is entitled to or should expect to make a living in their chosen hometown doing just that. Perhaps it’s an outgrowth of the whole business model of being an “artist”; you make a business plan, type out a budget and projections, and “voila!”  Not much consideration about the quality of the work or what it means or how well it is conceived.

I’m actually waiting for the flashmob of local accountants, (or fill in your choice of profession here- ) demanding more coverage in the local news, whining about how no one appreciates them and supports them,  wondering how we can re-make our town into a destination for people seeking accountants….  ok- this gets silly in a hurry … but hopefully you can see the point here.

What is taking place here?  What actually constitutes “support?”  Does it mean being paid by a local non-profit to sit on street corners “performing” to drive business to downtown restaurants and shops? Does it mean the artists paying a local public venue good money for the privilege of showing work to a local audience? (we used to call this a ‘vanity’ gallery – and it’s about $100 a day for the privilege.)

It should be simple enough.  You do something that people value and want, you find an audience.  Otherwise- look elsewhere in addition to your local friends and admirers.  Lots of elsewheres.  Sure, other factors are often critical- meeting the right people at the right time, having a partner who brings in the income so you can be in the studio or workshop, being willing to go wherever and do whatever it takes to find more opportunities.

A couple decades back, after grad school, the norm was teaching and gallery representation. Galleries were more relevant because they were the way to find an audience pre-internet.  The validation of gallery representation was a mark of professional status, giving you something to work towards- having a solo show every two years.  It was affirming to have people working in those galleries that believed in you and your work. Those lines on the resume added up to solidify serious intent. This is still true, but not the only truth.

Last year, one of my former gallerists, the lovely Francince Seders, retired and closed her Seattle space.  She had a long run – over 40 years – and carried work from some serious heavyweights. She championed regional Northwest artists, had a very special relationship to those she exhibited, and operated with the highest level of integrity. But she too lamented the changes she saw… more online / less in-person. A gallery in CA that briefly carried my work went out of business, (not before I made sure I was paid though)  and another in Ashland, OR, with beautifully designed shows, had an owner who retired end of last year, and the gallery was up for sale.  All this just goes to show how things are constantly evolving according to factors that are not always in the control of the painter, or even the gallery owner. So do we wring our hands?

Perhaps this is bound to happen.  It speaks to the labor, expense and dedication (on both the part of artists and gallerists) involved in making a go of it through hard times and the challenge of continuing to work through your own aging process. In my own small city, I’ve seen lots of venues come and go during 20+ years- not too surprising given the demographics of the area. Some were fairly provincial in scope or ambition to begin with- but sadly the few attempts at local contemporary commercial spaces, have had an average life span of about 2 years. Now, more then ever, if artists want to get their work out to the public, they have to be nimble, have lots of outlets, new venues.  Even if they do have a gallery, they are likely expected to do some promotional lifting.

Plus, the internet has totally changed this equation.  There is a lot more “inventory” to deal with. Anyone and everyone can call them selves a “professional”- and perhaps start selling their work.  Buyers don’t have to be educated in the visual arts to know what they like, and can afford.  Which means that there is a multiplicity of things that make me cringe, but also make me swoon – in a good way mind you. All this is mind-boggling democratic.  It’s all a giant soup of choice, and the world keeps spinning.

Many people can’t easily travel to galleries, or are too busy or intimidated. Most folks probably feel they can’t afford the prices. Lots of people seem to think the Arts are a value to society.  (insert your favorite study here) But there is a lot of competition for the brief attention span and limited time of said appreciators. And what does it mean to be an appreciator?  What does it mean to participate? How will all these struggling arts organizations keep cultivating an audience?

I would think that creative/maker people should be among the most flexible among us, but what I’ve witnessed lately is that when the subsidy rug is pulled out from under them, they get very panicky, and wonder if the sky is falling.   But when we demand support, are willing to give our work away, think someone else is going to save us, and cling to old models and institutions, we seem a bit desperate…. and no one is attracted to desperation.

So, my modest proposal….just go back to the work.  All the rest is noise.  Just do the work that makes your soul complete, and if you must, make a living in some other way along side of it. Share what you do freely.  Keep seeking out those connections and supporters.  If times get better, or you connect with the right people or patrons or project, great.  You will hopefully at least have made some contribution to the timeless creative conversation.

I think it’s now far enough into the new year that we are safely past all the ranking, list-making, resolution promising… and in order to live with myself on a daily basis, that means making choices that feel ‘authentic’ or as Fred Rogers put it, “you rarely have time for everything you want in this life, so you need to make choices, and hopefully your choices can come from a deep sense of who you are.”

A few years ago, I made the choice to pull my work out of commercial gallery settings, and not pursue any new venues. It was partly a response to feeling like I was struggling to find a strong direction, partly a result of one long term gallery relationship losing steam, partly because I needed to rethink what my place was in the activity of making art.  I wanted more control, but should I in fact keep painting?  Will anyone notice or care if I don’t?  How do I do this in a small city?  Do I care about shipping my work around the country anymore?  Should I be more business-like? Maybe this is just a phase…?  It was not so much about questioning my life’s work, but more like, “is this when I should stop?” And while this was happening, the commercial side of the art world was, and still is, undergoing many shifts.

But, something that gives your life meaning and challenge is not something you give up. You keep doing it for yourself, if for no other reason.  I think that might be the reason that people who keep doing creative work last longer- still working into their 80’s and 90’s.

This last year, I made a conscious choice to get off what I call the “art business noise machine” which was starting to feel a bit redundant to me.  Everyone essentially giving out the same advice, whether they had real-world experience as working professional artists or not- people gathering insight from the same books and ‘experts’, webinars about being organized and focussed, making endless lists and diagrams, and how to be a creative thinker and take risks.  So much time spent hearing the same advice repeatedly.

I discovered being bombarded with a constant stream of updates on other folks’ weekly goals, hours spent painting- or why they can’t paint- doesn’t do me or my own work any good at all. Time spent commiserating is not time spent working.  A real constructive critical dialogue would be helpful, but everything in on-line artist communities seems so perky-( “Love this” “good job”)  it kinda smacks of self-esteem boosting “here’s your ribbon for participating!”,  and can become a tad meaningless. People just hit the “like” button and love everything- but rarely want to take the time to ask probing questions, challenge anyone, or describe their reaction in a way that can contribute something to the artist. Description is a lost art. Probably why I read so much fiction….. but that’s another post.

I am very supportive of other artist friends – near and far- in whatever way I can be. I’ve purchased work from and traded work with local artists. I love seeing what some folks are up to in the studio. But online social media groups are not so useful to me. I just had to learn that. I know a lot of this is my age and past experience talking.  I grew up in the 50’s/60’s when benign neglect and leaving kids to their own devices seemed like the order of the day; before the days of ribbons for participating.  We all like praise, but I don’t think it challenges us to make the hard choices sometimes.

So, I’m getting back to a more basic frame of mind. One where the real work needs to happen with the hand and mind of the maker engaged in their own private dialogue- which might come to include a wider audience- or it might not.  I’ll ask for feedback in person, and stay in touch with friends over coffee.  Oh, and all those changes in the commercial world, I’ve managed to adapt to some of those too.

It’s on my to-do list.

more about lists…