Well That Didn't Happen!
So my last blog sought to answer the question, "Is anybody out there?" Referring to my mind being disturbed by the lack of interaction on the part of you, the cyber-surfers moving from wave to wave.I had even posted a poll, open for anyone so inclined to take part. At the writing of this blog, only one had given me any response (I had already put in a starer vote to encourage participation). Perhaps I got my answer…?
"I only want to read content and/or see the pictures" – 1 vote
So, now moving on from there…
I've included the most recent photos of the current studio, which I am in the habit of calling, 'The Very Small Studio.'
There are now a few paintings on the wall. Over the few months here I've solved my artwork storage issue, organized things a little more to where it is feeling quite comfortable.
Beyond that, I've come to terms with the whole Art World thing… If you don't know what I'm talking about, you might read some of my earlier blogs (if your interested) to understand my art journey up to now. As much as I would like to have some degree of monetary success in art, I have come to be OK with being an outsider. The process of creating artwork is now on a separate level than making a living. Some might say, easy for you to say… you're retired. To which I respond, yes, I guess that's true, and it actually is easy to say at this stage in my life, thank you.
One of those other things that have made it 'easier for me to say' has been the result of happenstance, or maybe an accident, or even fate, as some might say.
I've explained this before I think, maybe in a previous blog… or not (can't remember?) Anyway in the process of selling my old house and moving, we eventually ran out of time and couldn't get everything out of the house by the sale's deadline… so, some things got left. Much of it, as I have discovered, was related to my art practice. Some was artwork, both old and new. Then there was some art materials, equipment, furniture left. We did the best we could but in the end, some was lost and some was kept. It seemed heartbreaking when I used to think about it. Eventually though, I got over it.
It actually lightened the load.
That experience was a large part of being able to let go… even though it was not voluntary at first. Now, at this point where I am, I still have (or have gotten) all I need to be creative. I think primarily that starts with the brain and imagination, seasoned with a little drive or ambition. The materials and tools can be surprisingly everyday ordinary, although I have become accustomed to use mostly traditional materials.
The end aim is to be creative in some positive way, to accomplish something that satisfies that artistic urge… that urge, that I still have, in-spite of considering myself a Art World outsider, self taught unknown, dare I even use that word talented to describe why I lean toward "being' artistic?
I think many artists hate that word, feeling that it robs them of the glory and honor of their efforts and the skills that they have worked so hard to develop and sharpen. To credit in some way talent is like wiping away the sweat of their hard work and toil with the stinky rag that polishes the silver spoon of natural ability some call might call talent!
But I digress…
Being set free from much of the burden that my larger studio could hold has given me the opportunity to streamline, design and focus my artistic practice more. In terms of a voluminous art studio, I have never had that luxury, and in my opinion, that invites space for waste, that becomes forgiving of disorganization and chaos. I suppose if I had the big studio and big art practice, might think differently… hmmm?
So, my production, like an assembly line, may not be as good as before. There is no great floor space to lay out and stretch larger canvases. There is less room to store unsold/unwanted artwork and materials, but I have faced the fact that I am an artist in a very small studio, and I do have a large garage if ever I can clear the rest of those moving boxes out of the way.
Adapt or die. Not ready to artistically die yet, so I'm following this little path of adaption. I keep thinking "let's face it," but it is really I who needs to face it. I'm small time… and I OK with that. Again, this is a process. When I first took up painting as a serious career move, I was willing to pour into it all my energy and as much time as it would take to become better and better at my art… even, perhaps, the best!
Well that didn't happen!
Along the way (16 years now) and I'm 73 years old now, I discovered there are innumerable other artists out there (you might know some - or maybe you are one!) who are very, very good artists, and yes, there are so many more artists who are so much better than myself at doing their type of art. That goal of becoming better and better is definitely attainable. It takes time and time takes patience. But to be the best? Who's the best? What tags you as the best artist? Fame? Money? Big commissions? Big artwork? Your work is in the ritziest galleries, the most prestigious museums, the biggest auction houses, the wealthiest collector's homes?
It is, perhaps a very alluring prize to many artists. the goal, the prize, my ambition!
But my guess is, it mostly a mirage. Looks so good from a distance (and most artists know what that distance feels like), but when the mirage fades to reveal itself as a dry mouthful of sand, what can be our disappointment to find no cool refreshing drink of water when we arrive at our destination.
Now this is only my opinion. I've never been the best at anything. I've wanted to, tried to, but never stood there as the worlds greatest… anything. Nevertheless, I've heard enough interviews of the great and mighty, the famous and acclaimed of this world to know that fame and money did not turn out to be all they thought and hoped they would be. The emptiness was still there… life was still as hollow as ever. Did they find what they were looking for?
It will be enough for me, to settle for being happy in who I am. In where I am, and in doing what I can, as well as I can.
And as far as I have learned this far into life, that ends up putting me at the end of the line rather than being first. How this applies to making it in the Art World is doubtful. There I don't believe this philosophy would work very well with how the Art World is set up.
But then I am a happy little outsider artist in a very small studio… and what do I know?
Dave
Edited
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