On a sunny January day, we went for a stroll, and I took a few photos with my inferior phone camera. I really don’t need any more photos, but one never knows if the light will be the best it has ever been. If I was more motivated, I would have taken some paints, a tripod, a palette, and a pochade box. Then the walk would have been a business trip. Nah, too much gear—I would have needed to drive and missed out on the exercise.
The walk was a time for contemplating matters of consequence along with enjoying the ability to see beautiful sights while soaking some rays*. In retrospect, it was an important time of peace because when we got home, we received two unwelcome pieces of news.
Two people in our lives died: one was unexpected, an important person in our lives; the other was expected, an important person to people I care very much about. The ability to enjoy being mobile and vertical, see familiar and beautiful sights, and absorb some sunshine . . . so many people, particularly of our parents’ generation, are dropping. . . kind of hard to form complete sentences around this.
*Has anyone else noticed that people no longer just drink water? Now, they “hydrate”. Is it possible to just enjoy sunshine anymore or do we all have to “get our vitamin D”? Is it all those ridiculous commercials on teevee which try to turn us into pharmacists who “ask our doctors” about various medicines, or into nutritionists prescribing forty-eleven supplements that will allow us to all live as 20-year-olds indefinitely? Tiresome stuff.
Today’s post is long, lots of words for a subject I have pondered for over three decades. It might fall into the category of Too Long, Didn’t Read. If talk about art business bores you, please come back tomorrow. If you make it through to the end, you truly are My People. If not, I hope you will rejoin My People tomorrow!
An important question to ponder when considering one’s next step in the business of art.
In an ongoing conversation with an artist friend who is working hard to build up her art business, several things came up. I told her that much of what I have tried through the years either didn’t work, or it is now irrelevant and out of date. After the 30+ years of building an art business, my main takeaway is a very valuable and hard to earn item: local name recognition. I know My People and My People know me.
When in a quandary in life or in business, sometimes it helps to go eat some ice cream.
List of No Mores
I spent years trying many avenues of marketing; here is a very long list of things I now simply say “No, thank you” to.
People want to borrow our work and not buy it. When someone says “It’s great exposure”, in an effort to get artists to participate in something that will take time, expense, and effort, I say no thanks. A person can die of exposure.
No more giving away my work (unless it is an organization I support). It never resulted in any sales, and one year I actually gave away more than I sold. (Another artist friend told me, “Oh, I just give my junk that no one will buy”. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? What does that do for an artist’s reputation??)
No more shows with entry fees. It costs to make the art, deliver it, and then retrieve it; IF the piece sells, the show organizers keep a percentage.
No juried shows—my work is rejected more than accepted. Most often these are juried by folks from cities who do not value realism. These are not My People. I’m looking for sales, not ribbons. (I did very well in the Ag Art show in Madera for a handful of years; then when their entry fees went up, they shrunk the number of categories, and gas became so very expensive, I said “NO MAS!”)
No traveling for art fairs—my work is locally based, and there is no point in chasing down new markets with new subjects which don’t speak to My People. Entry fees, time away from home, equipment to set up, producing art that is specific only to that area, travel costs, being unknown in that city—none of this seems like a prudent use of time, treasure, and talent.
No more chasing internet stuff—it takes hours (and hours and hours and hours. . . ) of engagement on FB, Etsy, Instagram, Pinterest, to build a name and get sales; then, those platforms can mess with the with internet magic and cut off your followers. I tried all of those, and concluded that my time was better spent actually making art while communicating with My People through real life, snail mail, emails, email newsletters, and of course this blog, followed by tens (people I know, bless your little hearts!)
No galleries that keep 50% (or more), are far away, and can stuff your work in a closet or take a powder in the middle of the night.
No reproducing my work other than on cards; if the original doesn’t sell, why would the reproductions?
No framing my work; people’s tastes vary widely, it increases the cost of the work, and it ties up money in something that requires care and special handling.
Ducks don’t ever think about these matters of consequence.
Exceptions
There are many many exceptions to these rules. They are not etched in stone, and I break them occasionally without expecting any results except satisfaction that maybe I helped someone.
The day after I sent this list to my friend, I got a request from a local nonprofit gallery seeking more art to fill up a group show opening in two days. I called my friend who quickly chose 2 of her paintings along with one of mine which happened to be handy. She delivered, attended the reception, and will go pick up the work when the show is finished. (I have no illusions about selling my one piece.)
My People
My audience is local people, real people I know or have met or who know people I know, people who appreciate this place and my style of painting and drawing. They are people who say things like, “I don’t know anything about art but I know what I like.” They want to work with and buy from someone who makes art they understand, and often custom subjects that mean something to them. They want to work with someone who will listen to them and help them figure out what they want, not confuse them with ArtSpeak or make them feel stupid. My People!
So, my efforts go into making my work the best it can be, pouring myself into my drawing lessons (I LOVE MY STUDENTS!), representing Tulare County to help My People hold their heads up, living here in California’s fly-over country.
I use pencils, oil paints, and murals to make art people can understand of places and things they love for prices that won’t scare them. I make art for My People!
Mustard is the earliest wildflower in the foothills.
Cockleburs are horrible. I think they are native to this area. They don’t mind getting drowned each year—it seems to be what causes them to thrive.
This is looking downstream toward the dam. The lake is very low, to make room for the winter rains and spring snowmelt, always a situation we hope takes place.
This isn’t a very pretty walk, but the blue of the river takes the edge off of all that grayish brown.
This is where we turned around. After studying it for awhile, we concluded that the lake is slowly filling up.
When heading back to the parking lot, it occurred to me that this could be a nice place to do a little plein air painting.
Stay tuned! I might do some painting here soon with my friend Krista who needs to do a few examples of plein air painting in order to qualify for a job. Like me she is a studio painter, but unlike me, she wants to expand into plein air. I have more experience at it than she does, so I can help her, we can hang out together, and maybe one day, I will actually improve my plein air skills in spite of my less than stellar attitude about it.
My first blog post was April 15, 2008. Since then, I’ve posted over 4000 times, and my “media library” has around 19,000 pictures.
Tech is continually updating, which is just a euphemism for “complications”. Stuff that used to be easy becomes more difficult. Companies that used to sell products (virtual products in this case) outsource their services to other countries, where people can work from home on the phone, while practicing their English. Services that used to come with the virtual products now cost money.
Programs that used to be bought on a disk to get installed in your computer became available only through the interweb airwaves. Then, they became outdated, stopped functioning, and updates started to cost money. Next, you have to subscribe instead of owning the program (now called “apps”, short for “applications”). The price starts out small, but incrementally increases.
The pressure to buy continues to increase, often built on the fear that you might lose your information.
This is happening with my website. I’ve had four or five web designers, and each one either quit working for him/herself* and went to work as an employee of a company that charges 2-3 times as much, or quit to have a baby.
Now I have to pay to get help, pay to protect my information from getting stolen, pay to store my information, and pay to protect from getting invaded by anonymous creeps.
IT’S ALL TOO MUCH!!
So, I am now deleting all my old photos and old posts. Nobody cares, so why am I keeping it stored in some virtual cloud, paying some mysterious company full of advertisers, fear-mongers, pushy sales people, and strangers from even more companies to protect it all?
So, here I go. . . trash, delete, trash, delete.
I wonder if anyone will notice? I wonder if anything will improve on my site? I wonder if I will be able to back it up without getting an error, a message that I don’t have enough space, a warning that my whole site might “crash”, and someone with a difficult-to-understand accent telling me I will need to rebuild my entire website from scratch?
I just came here to be an artist, to depict the things and places that we know and love, and to show and tell you about them.
Okay, back to the virtual dump. . . thanks for showing up today and listening to all this.
*Nope, not going to use a plural pronoun for a singular situation.
No round-up of the year’s accomplishments, best-of lists, goals for next year—just some photos of another walk in Three Rivers. (Captions are a little bonus for you, or perhaps just an annoyance.)
Will this tree ever finish changing to fall colors? This photo was taken on December 21. HEY, FLOWERING PEAR! DONCHA KNOW IT’S WINTER NOW??
One day this Valley Oak (quercus lobata) will fall and go boom.
People decorate for Christmas in ways that defy taste. I guess that’s why some refer to this as “the silly season”.
See what I mean?
When my neighbor was a little girl, she declared in no uncertain terms, “That’s the wrong color for a church!” She also taught us to say “Remorial Building”.
Thank you for continuing with me in this non-eventful, somewhat mundane life as a Central California artist, using pencils, oils and murals to make art people can understand of places and things we love for prices that won’t scare you.
1. Aldi’s paper bag says something about no longer providing plastic bags, which causes me to ask this: Hey Aldi’s, why is all your produce pre-bagged in plastic?
2. To “prate” is to bloviate, to chatter endlessly about inconsequential matters.
3. I learned how to block email addresses of people I’ve never heard of—so many of those advertising emails have a non-working Unsubscribe button; not sure that Unsubscribe does anything even when it is working. It seems that many of those “people” just resubscribe you after awhile, hoping you will change your mind. Or they sell your eddress to another crowd of unethical moneygrubbers. So, I block them as they arrive.
4. GARDENING: sweet potatoes grew in knots, so next year I will make a great big gopher cage instead of using individual cages; all lettuces vanished—both cheater-starts from the nursery and tiny sprouts from seed. I haven’t learned what ate them, only that lettuce is almost impossible to grow. (And the broccoli is alive but appears to be comatose.)
5. TUBING MASCARA: Never heard of it but it definitely sounds like a better cosmetic improvement than fake lashes. Prolly not ever going to buy it, but found it curious.
6. A friend sent me this quote, amended and paraphrased by me: “We have a candy holiday, followed by a pie holiday, followed by a candy and cookie holiday, followed by a booze holiday, with another candy holiday on its tail. We call this ‘flu season’, but shouldn’t it be called ‘sugar poisoning?'”
7. Three random thoughts from the bathroom: a. It is a good sign if your toilet plunger has spider webs, but not the brush; b. If you think your shower is clean, put on your contact lenses; c. If you get mascara on your bangs, they need to be trimmed.
8. All the reasons that I avoid medical offices were verified in December; the level of incompetence, chaos, and confusion defies all logic and tests the outer limits of human patience. You will be told that an appointment isn’t needed/is needed/isn’t needed/is needed. You will be given wrong addresses/no addresses and wrong fax numbers. You will listen to many robot switchboards run through long spiels in Spanish. Your insurance will be denied and you will be told that a fax about it has been sent multiple times although no fax will ever be received (see previous—wrong fax number) You will drive to Woodlake, Lindsay, Exeter, and Visalia, all to gather information which will lead to many other appointments, phone calls to verify and correct and remind and question. You will wonder if you will be dead before anything is diagnosed and treated. You will be thankful that all the people you have spoken with are very nice.
There is more order in random leaf patterns than in the medical system or in providers of technology.
9. All of the same sort of chaos and confusion and contradictions from the Medical Circus apply if you experience multiple internet/phone/teevee outages and try to get your bill lowered (looking at you, Spectrum). You will be told that you will/will not get a credit, that the credit has/has not been applied, and that you need/don’t need to call back to verify an amount which continually changes depending on which “helpful” person you are speaking to. The people who answer questions with confidence rarely come up with the same numbers as those who read your bill back to you rather than answer questions. Some are smart and quick; some are stupid and slow; all are polite. You may conclude, as I have, that everyone is trained to say what you want to hear while actually doing nothing to credit you for all the outages.
10. A website called “Bored Panda” is an enormous waste of time along with being highly entertaining, if this post is any example. Funny Vintage Costumes Book. I didn’t look any deeper because I was able to exhibit remarkable restraint and self-discipline.
11. Did you know that there is a Botkin Hospital in Moscow? It was something else until 1920, when it was renamed Botkin Hospital in honor of the founder of the Russian therapeutic school – Sergei Petrovich Botkin. It is the biggest multispeciality hospital in Moscow. The name appeared in some novel I was reading (chewing gum for the mind) called “Our Woman in Moscow” by Beatriz Williams.
Important question: have I been prating at you in this blog post??
SEQUOIAS IN WINTER is sold, but is still hanging at CACHE, 125 South B Street, Exeter, California. Fridays 10-4, Saturdays 11-4, Sundays noon-4. SUNDAY, DECEMBER 29, IS THE LAST DAY TO SEE THIS SHOW.
There was an overcast day in Three Rivers this week. Maybe more than one, but we are only concerned with one of them for purposes of this post. We drove up the Mineral King road, as far as the Conifer gate. (That’s the upper gate, which is below Atwell.
Brrr
Good to know that the temporary bridge is still in place. . . hoping it is still there when we drive back down the road.
We broke into the sunshine around mile 4.5-ish.
Hello, Oak Grove Bridge! (mile 6.5-ish)
We were in that muck down there, temperatures in the 50s, and now in the sunshine, it will reach 70.
The Sweet Ranch in the sunshine. I wonder if it is called a “ranch” because of cattle in its history, cattle in its present, or just because what else does one call a spread in the foothills? (My uncle used to call his orange and avocado grove “the ranch”, which I always found peculiar.)
We think that if someone drove to this gate, then all the way back to the Foothills Visitor Center, he would be disappointed and surprised by the complete ignorance about this gate or sign on the part of personnel at the Visitor Center. Just conjecture on our part, but probably true.
Often we are above this stuff in Three Rivers, but not so on Wednesday.
Everyone recognizes Sawtooth. (I’ve painted it at least 60 times, and drawn it in pencil many other unnumbered times.)
Now the gate locks are consistently secured, we got a little sunshine, and you are up-to-date (but only as far as Conifer.)
TODAY OUR POWER WILL BE OUT FOR THE BULK OF THE DAY, SO IF YOU ORDER A CALENDAR, EMAIL ME, OR COMMENT ON THIS POST, YOU WON’T BE GETTING A RESPONSE UNTIL THE EVENING OR TOMORROW.
I decided to dig the sweet potatoes that have been growing for around 6-8 months, if you count the time I started them In the kitchen window last spring. One sent its roots outside of the gopher basket, and of course that’s exactly where my shovel went. I put my wizened aged hand in the second photo so you can see how big they got. Last year they were about the size of my thumb, so I determined if this year wasn’t a decent crop, I wouldn’t bother again. “Decent”? That’s pretty subjective, considering this is the produce of about 10 plants. (Thank a farmer, if you know one. Without them, we’d be pretty hungry.)
Someone was watching from above.
My paperwhites bloom in December. Three Rivers doesn’t experience very much winter weather.
WALKING IN THREE RIVERS
Such a beautiful day required a walk. This sycamore is magnificent! A friend told me it had the largest leaves she’d ever seen on a sycamore; we figured out that she only sees the ones that grow in town, not the natives which are old and have lived by a source of water for decades (centuries??)
DRAWING IN PENCIL
Finally, I got myself into the studio to inch ahead on this very challenging commissioned pencil drawing. That “vending machine” was potentially going to keep me awake at night if I didn’t get it figured out. It may not be recognizable to a fireman, but that’s as “right” as it is going to be. (The paper is white; it looks gray because I used the phone under low light conditions to take this photo.)
I worked a bit harder on the two little boys, size, location, and shapes. Ditto for the sunflowers. I don’t know Kansas wildflowers, but I know that the state wildflower is a sunflower. If I can fake a vending machine on the side of a firetruck, I should be able to handle sunflowers. (No, it’s not a vending machine; that’s how it appeared to my ignorant self.)
SIMPLY HOME
The show hangs until December 29 at CACHE in Exeter. Their hours are Friday 1:30-4, Saturday 10-4, Sunday noon-4. It includes about 50 paintings, 3 original pencil drawings, calendars, cards, coloring books, The Cabins of Wilsonia books, and a few pencil reproduction prints.
