Tonight I had the pleasure of participating in a conversation with 3 smart people (2 other artist educators and an art historian/museum educator facilitator) in front of just two paintings in the museum where I work. I looked longer and more fruitfully at a painting I thought I had seen before and I was enlightened by both the strategy (similar ones are used here and here and here) and the reminder to slow down.
What's amazing about seeing things in a painting you didn't know were there is what is amazing about the whole trick of living well. Slow down. Slow down. Slow down.
I can't mutter it, mantra it, want it enough.
take care,
Rachael

I'm working on an application right now. Well, no. Right now, I'm typing this, smelling onions, and listening to the football game tv talk waft in from the next room. I'm realizing the lack of precision I think with, talk about, and essentially have. So, yes, to be precise, I am doing a bunch of stuff to keep from the anxious activity of applying myself for an opportunity I might not (prob'ly won't) get. (Grant lists are hereand here).

I shot some slides today though and if they aren't too blurry, and if the ringing of the phones at work, and the decorating and cleaning I need to do, and the pull to make new work and call old friends doesn't pull me away from the work of putting that application together, I'll actually send the damn thing.

I'll share with you, though, another painting from last year when my studio all of a sudden got smoky and full of water and then things changed. It's funny to see the changes in the paintings in retrospect. They're smaller, more revised, more proud of their battle scars and I hope, more honest. Below is Caution.




take care,
Rachael

I'm still thinking about painting and showing my work, thanks Mark and Bill for weighing in. I do realize that 50/50 is somewhat standard for retail spaces but it's a markup that many many galleries don't deserve. I don't frown on artists who go with that but I can't stomach it.

I spent some time today documenting paintings from last year (like this one) and they were all about growth and change. Frankly I can't wait for my garden to bloom and my new paperdolls to be done. Lots of ideas are gestating and lots more will happen if I simply keep discipling myself to make art. The fears that follow me into the studio are tricky to step away from but if we tell ourselves we suck at making artwork, we simply don't make artwork.

Spore, above, fits in nicely with my reading of Ackerman's garden book, my desire to share more work, and the colorscheme of my dreams today.

take care,
Rachael

I had a great new years eve, relaxed with friends and we shared a rambling funny conversation. At one point I was talking to Scott, a very smart sculptor/blacksmith, fresh from his MFA program and figuring out (as is everyone I know) how to make the work he needs to make while earning some money to pay some bills. Everybody who makes work has some sort of a solution and my observation is that most of us in non-cut-throat communities (like upstate New York) are navigating and juggling solutions all the time. We have day-jobs with flexbility, or we have a parade of short-term jobs. At this point in my life (and in this community) I don't know anyone who only makes art. But I do know many who manage to make good art.

The solution I've had for the past couple of years is to work a full time job, draw daily, and make regular time in my studio. Some weeks it works better than others and I'm lucky. My day job is creative. My day job is comfortable, flexible, and feeds rather than draws from my artwork but it does keep me occupied 40+ hours a week. I won't be walking away from it anytime soon even if every New Years Day I dream of having 8 hour stretches 5 days a week in the studio. I like my health insurance. I like that I am often able to encourage other artists to get to their studios, or hand them flyers for opportunities, or remind them of upcoming deadlines (like the Saltsonstall.)

Last night I mentioned my general pissy-ness with the 50/50 cut that even small town private galleries take when they sell art. Now I understand the 50/50 with big fancy uptown New York galleries but then there's the ridiculously inflated pricing scale of lots of original art.) I'm resolved to show my work more in 2006 but I'll continue to try to do it on my terms.

But am I wrong to be pissy about gallery cuts? Is there a more active promotion of artists I don't see? Is there an artist out there who is happy with their gallery representation, particularly in smaller markets? Where are the good-to-artists galleries? Let me know what you know because it's a new year and I'm ready to cut the shiny white boxes some slack if they are actually serving artists in the crucial work of helping us work.
There are bigger problems to solve in this shiny new year, of course, but I hope to help other artists in any little way I can...if only to remind you to make more, make better art...

Take care,
Rachael

yes, and great resources are here at nyfa.org for any artists beginning or stalled or anyway involved in the juggle that is being a working artist

Happens every year. I spend plenty of time thinking about how I could be, should be, oughtta be better, kinder, work harder, be neater, go running, give blood, save more, and make more art. I'm up to the resolution game again but this time I'm going to be a bit easier on myself.

I hereby resolve to make more (better) art and show it.
Send more letters and packages (like this one I sent to Mark).
Read more books and stories and poems.
And as my little photoshoppy doodle tells ya: travel.



take good care,
Rachael