No rest for the wicked

I had a nice time at the party last night. The host has a lovely abstract art collection. Oh why yes, including one of mine, thanks for asking- and the company included a handful of other artist collector curator peoples. There was a guy who introduced himself and later appeared languid on the floor. I heard he falls asleep at parties. Some old habit from childhood. My kind of guy. I didn't get to chat with him though.

The joint was jumping with abstract painters. (There were at least four of us.) I covered up my affair with Representational Painting as best I could. I nodded and laughed in agreement with some of the things that stump abstract painters when filling out grant applications. "Who is your intended audience?" "Who is going to benefit from your project?" and of course the major one: "Describe your proposal." I forgot all the pithy answers, but I laughed a lot last night. Inside joke, I suppose, but it made me realize that I'm going to have a hard time carrying on behind Abstract Painting's back. Plus, I just kept starring at the abstract paintings hanging around. Hubba hubba. {sigh}

Tomorrow is the studio sale. Earlier this week, I handed someone a card I whipped up for the invite and they seemed honestly astounded at how professional it looked. I'm always a little taken aback in those situations. Maybe next time I'll use crayons and leave glue stains.

I'll be selling watercolors that have been hidden away in my flat files save one exhibition in Nashville. I was going to offer up more under-exhibited drawings, but next year I am in a 4-person show at the Brand Library and Art Center. It's a large space and I have decided to do a mini-retrospective of my works on paper installations. I woke up with that eureka! insight the other morning and feel quite good about knowing that.

I also made notecards of my studio flower photographs. They, too, look professional and are really quite lovely, actually.