Notes From The Ether

I am surprised at how little things add up into time and how much I rely on email, Internet, Facebook correspondence when I really should just pick up the phone. The phone = quick answer, simple directions, whereas email = me trying to write a treatise regarding simple request.

It was nice to get out and see someone else's paintings for a change. I always (I think I can say 'always') enjoy going over to someone else's studio. As a bonus, they stopped by my studio briefly and got a peek at the new work. I'm on the books with The Fellows in May and was wondering if the new works would be a good choice to hang in the studio. I'm usually cool with my gut reaction and first instinct, but it's always nice to get a second opinion, just in case I am crazy and have lost all ability to make rational decisions.

Yesterday I had a meeting with a friend whose agency is in the Condé Nast building here in LA. Gorgeous view. He's interested in putting some of my art on the walls, mostly from the archives, though I'd like to steer him toward the recent work. I'm wondering if it's normal as an artist to want your most recent work up or if I'm trying to curate a space when I haven't been asked to do so. He knows what he likes, is in no way a novice when it comes to fine art, and yet, I find myself wanting him to pick MY favorite paintings to hang in a quasi-public place. Time to let go, eh?

Visitor #2 will be over to the studio tomorrow. This will make the second viewing of the new small paintings. When I said, "Yes, Thursday is good," I forgot the yardmen come to this neighborhood every other Thursday. It's Fang that's the issue. Mr. Bark-a-lot. If I were a pill-popper, I would take a handful of Valium every other Thursday. It's a nut house here. So, yep, I'm hoping the yardmen are in and out before the visit, but at least the studio is somewhat shut off from the chaos.

Meanwhile, I have to step up my search for more work. I'm also considering selling off selected works using a sliding scale. (More realistically I'm considering selling like almost everything I own, but that's me just being morbid.) I saw on someone else's blog (and now I can't remember who) the idea of a Pay-What-You-Can for art. I haven't updated Smaller Works in quite a while. Not because there's no work to put up but because I got a bit discouraged by the fact that none of the five visitors I have every week are buying anything and my stick-with-it attitude sucks. I am not going to get the sales award for April if I keep this attitude up.

I was reading about gift economy and the idea of art as gift. I found the book a little trying after awhile. I believe that artists should be able to participate in the economy just like everyone else. I get my knickers in a knot when people seem to think that making and selling art is the equivalent of getting pin money. I paid $35, including tip for a crappy pedicure the other day. I didn't know it was going to be crappy. I didn't know the polish wouldn't last a day, nor did I know in advance I would be charged an extra $5 for her to use the damn pumice stone. Effing lame. But still, there was $35 of my money filtering into the economy. Would I have rather spent that on a $35 work of art? NO. I would rather have saved several $35 chunks of cash and bought a decent piece of art. I think an artist's time is valuable. But then again, I'm an artist. Someone asked me what I would charge for private lessons and when I told them, they acted a little incredulous and then said they understood my need to charge that amount- they had been a massage therapist once. They never followed through. FTS. I won't disclose the kind of car they were driving. Everyone has priorities. If a fancy car is more important than a painting, that's cool. I'd love to have a Cecily Brown in my house, but not a tiny one, just so I could say I owned a Cecily Brown, No, I'd rather have a large one, though I admit, it wouldn't be the best form of transportation, at least not to places in the physical world.

I started reading The Art Instinct by Denis Dutton. In chapter one, on the first page, we read, "The least wanted paintings are bad news for anyone hoping someday to see modernist abstraction achieve mass acceptance. People in almost all nations disliked abstract designs, especially jagged shapes created with thick impasto in the commonly despised colors of gold, orange yellow and teal."

Hmm, as I wrote this, I guess my view of the current economy filtered in. Bummer. I was in a good mood this morning, but apparently I became a little frustrated during this post. Sorry about that. Really, I am very lucky to have what I have and do what I do.