Wednesday, November 28, 2007

GiveThanks Cheesecake

The juice of life. Paint it in. Let it drip, be a little messy. Nail it when it's there. Good art has it. Good artists live it. Look for it in little things and big. It comes naturally, but it does take nurturing. I have been wrestling with a dilemma. Actually two or three, but here it is. It is that old thing money. Money and art? Ahh, it is the curse of death in the studio. Yet the studio cannot exist without it. Have you seen Jeff Koons' prices lately? I wonder what his studio looks like? Many friends and colleagues too are terribly perplexed. You are offering your work at what?!!!That is too low. I say it is an experiment. But your work, it goes for thousands. They cite my resume, my experience, the collectors, the awards. Yes, that is true. So what the devil are you doing at auction with a starting price of 99 cents??? Are you nuts? Maybe. It is open to debate. I am taking a pulse. Looking for a heartbeat. Wondering, just who out there gets it and what they want to pay. Is good art recognizable when offered on the street to everyman instead of to the elite? And what of the gatekeepers? Who draws the line? If one is a painter, born and bred, then painting is the point. And cream will surely rise. So paint the juicy, juiciness of life, put it in the flow. There is a purity of exchange. Rebuilding, starting over again, seeing what is real. Born of necessity thanks to the storm. My work, my name, I am sure of them. So I put them on the line. There's a bit of juiciness in the test. It is a little messy. My bank account is low. But here's the thing. It's real. The paint is pure. It can be just as pure when thousands of dollars are involved. Don't get me wrong. I do like money and the use of it. But that will come again. Meanwhile you should see the notes I get, the joy of someone who has a piece, a little juiciness of their own. So pardon me for playing on the street with my little cup held out...playing my blues with paint. Mending a broken heart, rekindling what makes me tick (that adds the zeros on), it is the painting, not the accolades, not the credentials, that is the therapy. It is the doing and the steady selling to those blessed ones who get it. It is to you that I give thanks.

No comments: