The Portrait Society of Canada’s annual show includes the work of 42 member-artists.  One piece was chosen from each. I was at the host gallery (John B. Aird) on the weekend, for delivery, and got a preview.  What a wonderfully varied exhibition!  No two paintings are the same in any way:  size, media, scale, theme…  There truly is something for every taste and interest, and some of the pieces are for sale.  For those who love portrait painting, and are curious to meet the artists behind the paintings, this is a great opportunity. For those who are unfamiliar with portrait painting, this is also a great opportunity—to learn more about it, and get involved with fundraising efforts for a contemporary Canadian portrait gallery in Toronto.

Possible schedule conflicts:  Toronto Art Expo and the The Artist’s Project (Toronto) open the same night (March 5). Having participated in both of these shows last year (The Artist’s Project as part of Artropolis in Chicago), I am happy with my decision to not be involved with them this year.

Artists are repeatedly approached to submit applications and pay big bucks to display their work. Once their money is down, there can be multiple organizational disappointments (not of their creation). Unfortunately, usually, those who gain the most (financially, especially) are those who own and/or manage shows and/or run competitions, or offer to represent artists and/or sell their artwork, in person, on location, or on-line.

Artists, please beware!  General public, please be aware!  What really happens behind the scenes matters, and not just at the time, subsequently. Another blog post will be coming shortly, about scams and advantage-taking of artists, particularly those who are just emerging.  In the meantime, please look back to earlier art show blog posts.  These include:  

• Art Shows: Business Priorities Versus Exhibitor Satisfaction (July 23, 2008)
• Change of Date, Change of Fate: Toronto Art Expo 08 Snowed Under (March 16, 2008)

Numerous unreturned e-mails and phone messages later, the organizer of Toronto Art Expo still hasn’t provided me with receipts from last year.

To see examples of my portraiture (recent and past) please check out the Figurative Gallery on the DocSusan site.

 

Others might not like to admit to creativity lulls or feelings of let-down.  But, as my blog evinces, throughout, I think it’s important to be real and not sugar-coat.  Information sharings can be helpful all round:  affirm we are not alone and others have been there too (and got through).  If we don’t acknowledge all our mood-shades (blacks, as well as whites and grays), appearances risk being deceptive.  Life is seldom as perfect as it might be thought for anyone, and authenticity matters.

I am still on a hiatus from painting.  By the close of 2008, I’d participated in three big shows and series (07 - 08), directly after art school graduation (06). Also, as is familiar to most other "emerging artists," the cumulative run-around from a variety of solicitors (galleries, dealers, agents, businesses, and organizations) who’d proved less reputable and reliable than hoped and assumed, was straining.  End result:  a loss in momentum— the need to take time for the "Three Rs," Rethink, Relax, Reboot.

My slow-down really began when I was too sick (medically/physically) to paint. Until I’m properly well, it’s not wise to resume. That said, it’s not something I’m rushing to do…  A dear artist friend recently shared details of her own time-out.  Her example and perspective were inspirational. A wonderfully talented individual, I was in awe of her insight and understanding (journey and recovery) and lack of competitiveness. 

There is always light at the end of the tunnel, but we need to be kind to ourselves (and have others be kind to us), and not push.  At least that’s the advice I tend to share in other contexts…

My studio isn’t empty.  The last painting that I finished (in October 08) jumps out on entry.  It’s a 60 x 40 inch oil on canvas abstract that became a horse:  a beautiful, calming soothing creature who looks like she’s confident and peaceful.  This piece was different in style than what’s been typical for me, over the past few years.

Thinking back to when I painted this last piece, I realize I sensed that something was going on. (The art therapist in me kicked in.) What I was trying to paint wasn’t coming out as I’d planned.  But, when does it ever, really?  I gave in and let happen whatever wanted to manifest on the canvas. 

This Horse piece followed on from a Duck, a Bird, and a Deer/Fox.  All four paintings will appear in the DocSusan artwork galleries, eventually… with stories about them.  In the meantime, please be patient—with me, yourself, and othewise.  Though we seem to live in a "quick-fix society," real life doesnt work that way.  All good things are worth the wait!

Earlier blog posts on artistic challenges include:

▪ Torrit Grey and Regenerating Creativity (October 11, 2008)
▪ Art Shows: Business Priorities Versus Exhibitor Satisfaction (July 23, 2008)
▪ #20. PRECIOUSNESS/VALUE (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 30, 2007)
▪ #19. SHARING (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 29, 2007)
▪ #18. LIMITATIONS (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 28, 2007)
▪ #17. MESSAGE(S) (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 27, 2007)
▪ #16. (SPECIAL) GIFT(S) (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 26, 2007)
▪ #15. ARTIST PLUS (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 25, 2007)
▪ #14. TIME (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 24, 2007)
▪ #13. THE PUZZLE (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 23, 2007)
▪ #12. SERENDIPITY (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 22, 2007)
▪ #11. ORGANIZATION (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 21, 2007
▪ #10. PRICES (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 18, 2007)
▪ #9. SUPPORT, PATRONAGE, GRANTS (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) 
(November 16, 2007)
▪ #8. “JK ROWLING SYNDROME” (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 14, 2007)
▪ #7. PAINTER’S FATIGUE (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!") (November 12, 2007)
▪ #6. NOTICING THE DETAILS (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 10, 2007)
▪ #5. STRATEGIC/CONSCIOUS PAINTING (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) 
(November 8, 2007)
▪ #4. CREATIVE PRESSURE/RELEASE (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 4, 2007)
▪ #3. SACRIFICE (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (November 1, 2007)
▪ #2. STAMINA (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (October 28, 2007)
▪ #1. ENDURANCE (Reflection While Painting “Buon Appetito!”) (October 24, 2007)
▪ Candid Artistic Ramblings: Reflections While Painting “Buon Appetito!”—Preparing for the Florence Biennale (October 19, 2007)
▪ INSTINCT, EXPRESSION, and CREATIVITY—in WRITING, PAINTING, and MUSIC (July 31, 2007)
▪  PAINTING and PERSEVERANCE (July 27, 2007)
▪  Entering PAINTING COMPETITIONS Can Be Disheartening (July 16, 2007)
▪  Stages of My PAINTING PROCESS (July 5, 2007)
▪  PAINTERS and WRITERS: Survival Tips, Cautions, and Experiences (March 30, 2007)
▪  PAINTING: Getting to the heART of why we do it (January 5, 2007)

 

Tis the season when artists get solicited to apply to art shows.  And, when you’re juried in (supposedly chosen by noteworthy judges, due to your artwork being of a particular standard) it’s easy to feel chuffed.  In fact, the excitement might help you overlook how much you then have to pay to register (on average, between $1000 and $3000) exclusive of accommodation, transportation, importation tarifs, printing, and other costs.  

Having participated in three international shows, back to back (December 2007 - April 2008), Florence Biennale, Toronto Art Expo, The Artist Project (Chicago), I’ve had ample chance to discover the expectations and disappointments such experiences can generate.  While the organizers make money (mostly from the artists), artists can feel short-changed and become frustrated for a variety of reasons:

1.  Feedback isn’t seen to be responded to, or remedied, when things go wrong, or aren’t as suggested.
2.  Conditions (for setup and takedown) can be as exhausting as they might be chaotic.  There are a lot of logistics, but not every protocol is logical.
3.  Booth location might be unfair (yielding unequal opportunities)—attached to seniority of participants, favoritism, or the luck of the draw.
4.  Advertising and ticket sales (on the show’s part) might be insufficient.
5.  Inconsistencies (who gets away with showing/selling reproductions) or expands beyond their allotted physical space could be overlooked.
6.  Excess charges for sundries, like lighting, electricity, flooring and furniture, usually supplied by third parties (that aren’t as good quality as advertised) can mount up, unnecessarily.
7.  Out-of-towners travel expenses receive little, if no, subsidy.
8.  Shipping (from out-of-town) is problematic, organizers neither subsidizing charges nor helping resolve practical/procedural complications.

Of course, the above is just a partial list.  The photos included below (taken at The Artist Project, 08) reveal additional glitches. All photos were taken during show hours, and this is just a small selection:

1. Busy aisle (but booth 4123A was almost the only booth not in an aisle).  Caution:  Object to being isolated. Neighbors matter!

2. Display and cleaning closet alongside each other. Caution:  What’s next to you is important.

3. Empty café opposite the booth.  Caution:  A café might appear like an attraction, but only if people go to it…

4. Garbage bin infront of display frequently. Caution:  Nice to have amenities close by, but not that close…

5. Endless cleaning stuff passing in front.  Caution:  In an out-of-the-way booth, distractions like these don’t make things any better!

6. Open closet and show guests, side-by-side.  Caution:  Not every booth can be ideally placed, if organizers are maximizing on floor space (and revenue).

7.  Traffic flow to the aisle marked "exit" (misses the booth completely).  Caution:  Organizers might argue that this is not a "problem," but when they bypass the booth, themselves, distributing "feedback forms" it’s a little ironic.

8.  Raised wall joints that make hanging difficult.  Caution:  After-the-fact, you might be told that these could have been attended to.  But, by whom and how at a time when any "special request" makes it seem like you’re a "fuss-pot"?

 

Typically, show organizers, no matter the stature of their show, appear unconcerned about responding to individual artist feedback post show, or prepared to compensate for problems.  Instead, it seems, their focus is on group solicitations for follow-up shows (expanding revenue options). There are plenty of fresh artists eager to exhibit their work who’d be thrilled to have it accepted (regardless of organizational issues and expense)!

There are more international art fairs and artists than ever. While visitors may only witness final happenings, what goes on behind the scenes for artist participants can present a totally different picture (no pun intended). In Italy (at the Biennale), logistical idiosyncracies went with the territory.  In Toronto, for an established local event, like Art Expo, perhaps my expectations were too high.  When event dates were moved up, just before Christmas (with tardy website adjustments, and a clash with a competing art show), other surprises weren’t yet in the air. (Please see an earlier blog entry, "Change of Date, Change of Fate:  Toronto Art Expo 08 Snowed Under," March 16, 08)

Reminders were included in Art Expo e-communications assuring that "no other" show goes to Art Expo’s lengths to make things easy for those exhibiting.  However, return e-mails, phone calls, and receipts, were difficult to obtain. Also, pre-show move-in wasn’t happy. Arriving for a mandatory end-of-the-day slot, it was disappointing to discover that recommended (rented) booth equipment wasn’t in place, making eventual set-up uncertain and tense. (I am very grateful to those who took non-job related initiatives, well into the night, to help postion my display prior to the next morning.)

Art Expo artists incur heavy costs for the privilege of participation, no matter show actualities. Here’s my own tally:
Sums Paid to Rime Canada:  $1957
• Amount for the smallest booth (5 x 15 feet):  $1695
• Amount for participating in the Toronto Life Advertisement option:  $265
Sums Paid to "Recommended Decorators":  $859.34
Booth’s basic fixtures (not included in booth registration fee, and outsourced):
• Showtech:  rental of 2 high ceiling mounted floodlights (secured at a greater distance from the booth than anticipated):  $540.14
• Stronco Show Services:  rental of a 5 by 15 foot strip of (poorly cut) grey carpet, no underlay:  $166.95
• Canfence:  rental of a custom-made (yet rusty and broken) fencing enclosure on which to hang the artwork:  $152.25
Sums Paid to the Toronto Convention Center:  $55
• Parking Pass:  $55
(Internet connection not taken because it was $895 +5% gst for wired access, and $395 for wireless access)

Different art shows, I now realize, can be lighter on the wallet, and suggest less possibilities for set-up stress/additional costs. Take, for instance, the Artist Project (Toronto), which happened the same weekend as Art Expo.  Here are their booth rates: 5 X 10 $600 + $300 = $900; 5 X 15 $900 + $400 = $1250; 5 X 20 $1200 + $400 = $1600; 10 X 10 $800 + $400 = $1200; 10 X 15 $1200 + $600 = $1800; 10 X 20 $1600 + $800 = $2400. A note from the Artist Project’s user-friendly Website clarifies inclusions: "We have negotiated a great price for the gallery style hard-wall system. The cost for this rental is included in the price of your booth. This system will facilitate a smooth and easy move-in; all you need to do is hang your artwork  and provide your electrical and lighting. As well, these walls will ensure a high-end, professional looking show…"

Right now, I’m looking forward to exhibiting at The Artist Project, Chicago, April 24 - 29, 08.  So far, the greatest administrivia difficulties and financial expenses connected with this show pertain to cross-border protocols and logistics.  Shipping to an out-of-the-country event, and determining far-from-home transportation, accomodation, and on-site necessities presents fresh challenges and adventures…

If this blog becomes a little less active over the next few weeks, please understand.  Now, back up to the painting studio!

 

At the Florence Biennale, sitting at my exhibit most days, I had a lot of time to reflect on what was happening there.  I either doodled my thoughts in a sketch book or wrote them up as poetry.  Here’s a poetry sample:

Seeing the general public view my artwork was very gratifying.  "Buon Appetito!" as I’d hoped, had broad age-appeal. Young children, and their parents loved it!

So did caninekind!

Then there was what was written in my visitor book.  Certain entries in other languages—Italian?—could be figured out without translation, even with handwriting that was hard to read… Here are some examples:

• "Complimenti, fresco, colorato, diret, molto bello… can I eat it?!"
• "Your works taste good!  I love it!"
• "Colori, allegria e voglia di vivere!!"
• "SORRY  I’m on a diet…Very, very nice…"
• "From Canadian to Italian, you know how to communicate the contrast in what is real flavour and artificial flavour.  In Italy, little flavour need be enhanced.  Your paintings speak of the vitality in food here."
• "Une magie di colori, complimenti!"
• "Trionfs di colori.  Il motion artisco della quotidiannite.  Rapporto el publblico diretto basato su un patrimonio commune di sensezioni e percezioni.  Grazie!"
• "Thank you for the light!"

Feedback from other Biennale artists, viewing recent blog entries on this site, suggests the need for new Biennale recognition/prize categories: "artists’ choice" and "viewers’ choice" awards.  Perhaps "children’s" and "canine’s choices" wouldn’t be a bad idea too!  That way there might be more interesting (and fairer) outcomes.

You Tube video footage of my participaton at the Biennale was finally posted by the Biennale crew today, in three parts. I had no clue about what they were ultimately going to do, or editorial input. You’ll find me buried inside the footage if you’re patient—in parts one and two. Not in part three, as far as I can see…

part 1 http://it.youtube.com/watch?v=00Nr_2h52E4

part 2 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEfKwVFiy_U&feature=related

part 3 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8nnl1xQZT8

 

An after-the-event Florence Biennale critique with judge Gregorio Luke was helpful. With perseverance and commercialism (of my imagery), he forecast, "new doors opening."  Luke stood out from other exhibition judges with his extra efforts to speak to as many Biennale participants as possible.  His general message was that it’s not what ciritcs say, it’s what you do as artist.  An expert on Frida Kahlo, he suggested using her approach as "model": communicating directly with the public.  In fact, during his official presentation, Luke stated, "Don’t try to go to a closed and elitist art establishment." (Image above, taken during Luke’s official presentation.)

Gilbert and George, honored with the Biennale’s "Lorenzo il Magnifico" career award, are quite different from Kahlo—in intention, appeal, and subject matter.  During Tim Marlowe’s Biennale interview with them, they insisted "Art has to be powerful or people pass it by…"  (Maybe they meant "shocking"?).  Their "Naked Shit" series (the title of which Marlowe repeated over and again in his questions) is just one example.  Gregorio Luke, the first time I introduced myself to him, stated,  "I don’t know your name, but I remember your art!"  Encouraging for work that’s not likely to be considered  "shocking"…

The evening before Gilbert and George’s interview, I ran into them by the Ponte Vecchia.  These "Men in suits" (a way, they claim to be have been able to sell themselves to dealers, from 1968 on) were now "men in overcoats," and a young Florentian was trying to take their picture with his cell phone camera.  I helped out, enabling him to be in the shot with them, then shared that I was a Florence Biennale artist hoping for feedback. Keeping the focus on themselves, the duo expressed surprise that I could have missed their enormous exhibit at the Tate (even though I told them that I don’t live in the UK). A conversation closer…

Another important man (in suit) who cut things short with me, last November, was Donald Trump.  In New York City, the week before leaving for the Biennale, I was meeting a friend at the Trump Tower cafeteria for lunch. By surprise, I noticed "the Donald" going up the escalator, and decided to approach him.  "Mr Trump" I braved, "May I please ask you a question?"  Thin and pale (without TV makeup), he turned in my direction, responding, "You’re a beautiful woman…  where are you from?"  The answer "Toronto," it appears, wasn’t a good one.  Hand up in the air after hearing this, he turned, elevator doors closing behind him.  Alas, no chance to pitch my Biennale exhibit series, "Buon Appetito!" to him.  Since climbing Kilimanjaro, I might have become a little more gusty—but there’s always need for help with closing a deal!

 

Interactions with other artists tended to involve those positioned at close proximity. But, quick wanderings around the exhibition gave an overall feel of atmosphere, energy, artwork, and personalities.  

12 artists I’d not met before, and spent time with during the Biennale are listed below (in alphabetical order). You might like to check out their work:

• Jeff Beier (sculpted painting)
• Joy Engelman (environmental painting)  
• Jim van Geet (figurative painting)  
• Pam Ingalls (Russian impressionist painting)   
• Olga Karpeisky (still life and portrait painting)
• Rian Kerrane (sculpture/installation)
• Janice Lawrence (joyful painting)  
• Charlotte Lugt (abstract painting)
• Mary Medrano (painting)  
• Miriam Pet-Jacobs (mixed media)  
• Danish Saroee (photography)  
• Mona Youseff (realist painting)  

12 artists I didn’t get to meet at the Biennale, but whose work I enjoyed viewing, are listed below (in alphabetical order):

• Ina Bartelds (floral painting)
• Karima Ben Otmen (painting with Arabian influences)
• Gina Blickenstaff (mother/child portraits)  
• Maria Catuogno (sculpture)  
• Cheri Christensen (Russian impressionist painting)
• Ann Dunbar (watercolour painting with embroidery) 
• Kimmo (Kimmo style painting)
• John van der Kolk (sculpture)
• Bria Kromm (painting with layers and symbols)  
• Nancy Lamb (figurative landscapes) 
• Maria Isabel Parra (multi-media artist)
• Sergei Zlenko (Russian figurative painting)

Some artists, attached to causes, were able to be more visible because of this:

• Pomm Hepner (watercolor painting) got extra wall exposure and mention due to her Artists for Human Rights membership. She is also a prominent Scientologist.
• Josie Taglienti (abstract pastels) promoted the Fine Art Registry, having been sponsored by them.

My Biennale display neighbors were two painters with very distinct styles and techniques:

• Denise Faegenburg  
• Amy Swartelé  

Having had a chance to review Biennale artists’ websites since the exhibition, I realize that while some had their best work on show there, others didn’t. The Biennale was, in many cases, an opportunity to sample a small piece from much larger pies and gain exposure.

Of course, there are many other artists I’d like to link in this blog entry, but that’s what the official catalogue is for, and where most participants were given equal space. Painter Nafisa Naomi, however, got a double-page spread—in advance of her winning first prize for her four canvas display, "Regeneration".  Unusual coincidence!  So did mixed media artist, Jackie Sleper—in advance of her winning first prize for her sculpture, "Modestia," given pride of place in the Biennale main foyer area (as shown here).

We don’t often know what will end up as an award winning work, or exactly why. A closer look at "Regeneration" (segment pasted below) may appear a tad disappointing—have viewers wondering how the canvases joined together (or whether they were supposed to).

Some nationalities weren’t as apparent at the Biennale as others. The Dutch had a huge contingent—97 (maybe).  840 artists from 76 countries were present, I believe.  There were also a lot of transplanted artists (those who found it hard to say which country they actually represented), like Plein Air Cottage artists, Helen Tilston and Violeta Shtumeyzen.  One evening, six of us went out for dinner, and found, by chance, that what we all had in common was being from one place but living in another.  Some had changed countries two or three times.  I could relate!  Is it the artistic spirit that encourages these moves, or modern day life?

 

Traditionally, if you search on-line, the Florence Biennale has had mixed reviews.  Having now participated, personally, I feel somewhat qualified to share pros and cons.  My You Tube video interview was filmed on Day 4, and focuses on the positive (though we are still waiting for the Biennale folks to post it).  This blog entry considers the whole picture (no pun intended).

Let’s stress the positive (in random order):

1.   Abundant networking opportunities between artists
2.   A live how-to guide for how to show your artwork (or not)
3.   A chance to discover what’s hot (possible) and what’s not, in art, and beyond
4.   An extended stay in Florence (and not as a tourist)
5.   Web presence enhancement (through participation)
6.   Time out from the studio—chance to taste "la dolce vita"
7.   General public’s feedback—international audience
8.   Connections made with viewers passing through
9.   Networking locally (in Florence)
10. Opportunities for commissions, sales, shows
11. International perspective and acknowledgment
12. Personal development opportunities

Familiar common complaints (in random order):

1.   Not enough visitors (likely not helped by time of year)
2.   Difficult layout and unfair allocation of display spaces
3.   Inadequate local publicity and attendance
4.   Most judges more aloof than approachable
5.   Select work given attention by judges, much of the rest ignored
6.   Certain presenters stood out, others had listeners walking out
7.   Environmental conditions challenging (heat, air, light…)
8.   Display equipment challenging (not flattering to artwork)
9.   Snack bar (food and service) not as expected for Italy
10. Many better works weren’t considered for prizes  
11. Too many artist-participant expenses and frustrating "administrivia"
12. Too much sitting around for artists who stayed on site

Those who go back again (participate in subsequent Biennales) demonstrate they’re not concerned with the glitches.  Those who don’t, have either been put off the first time, or simply can’t participate again for a myriad of other reasons.  In a world, and at a time, when fresh possibilities arise daily, pros, cons, and alternatives are reviewed carefully—as are first-hand accounts.  No matter what’s been considered disappointing about the Biennale, there’s still a lot of good to be said about it.  The opportunity to follow-through on the invitation to show at such an epic event comes to most of us only once.

In an ealier blog entry, I explained how preparing for the Biennale likely enabled me to complete the Kilimanjaro climb.  Now, having completed the Biennale, I realize that the Kilimanjaro climb might have helped me to make the most of participating at the Biennale.

Today is very special for those of us invited to show our artwork at the Florence Biennale (07 edition).  It’s taken over a year to prepare and it’s hard to believe this Olympics for artists is finally here.  But, if you look at the images below, you’ll see that it’s true.  This is the entrance to the Fortezza, with posters announcing the event.

 

And, here is my freshly uncrated exhibit, "Buon Appetito!" (with crates infront).

 

 

I arrived in Florence a few days ago, on a picture perfect morning, sunny but crisp, and had a magnificent view of the snow-filled Alps on the flight from Munich.  Not a big skier, but this snowscape made me want to be! 

 

 

And, it came after a spectacular sunrise.

 

 

Of course, photos taken at altitude throuh a plane window, don’t do justice to what’s seen live.  But, it’s always fun to share them.

While I’m a little preoccupied with this new chapter of the Biennale adventure, upcoming blog entries will reveal what has refreshed and empowered me since finishing painting "Buon Appetito!" in September—an extra special visit to Africa at the end of October.  The photo below provides a clue as to where.  (Please remember to click on the images to enlarge them.)

 

 

Art has value, and value isn’t always financial. Just as it is counterintuitive to put a price on human life, it can be the same with art.  Outsiders don’t really know what’s gone into a piece’s actualization—how much of the artist, him/herself, and how many hours of skill development and dedication.  Art’s value can be unquantifiable, but the market demands to know and set a price.  What does the market take into account?  Training, experience, reputations, originality, popularity, marketing buzz, or trends.  Much rests on possessing the right style at the right time for the right audience.  Talent and hard work might have little influence.  Those who get noticed and are in high demand might have the least to offer.  We’ve seen this in the entertainment and other (trend-setting) businesses.  Art that is precious to some might not be to others. Over time, art accrues sentimental and commercial value (that can be quite distinct from each other).  It becomes part of our homescape, and gets passed from generation to generation.  Many a time, art is able to be reproduced and gain mileage.  One piece volumized has more worth than could ever be imagined.  Sometimes, artists have the tools and ingenuity (or back-up team) to make this happen.  Most of the time, they don’t.  Alas, great art is usually recognized and acknowledged long after its creator is around to enjoy it.

Artistic creations are frequently private, but all the more interesting when shared.  The individual who makes them is often just a transmitter for the collective consciousness.  Whatever needs to be expressed, or seems to be going on in a particular environment, might appear in a painting.  If and when we’re ready to see it, we do.  Otherwise, the imagery might be enjoyed at face value.  Also, there may be nothing beneath the surface that needs to be looked into more.  Art is simple and art is complex, as are we.  We see what we want to and ignore what we don’t.  Or, we see more than we’re supposed to and make a fuss about what’s not important.  Interpretation is everything and interpretation is nothing.  Only the creator of a piece knows its real essence and intention.  Or, maybe he or she doesn’t… Anything others say about a piece can be projection.  Or, maybe they have insights that are objective.  Having some distance from the work under review—not knowing every brush stroke that’s gone into it—can enable the viewer/critic to see something the artist might have missed (or not realize is there).

For some, art can be infinite.  For others, it signals natural or man-made limitations.  Art takes money and time.  Some have a lot of both.  Most don’t, so vacillate and negotiate—try to obtain and balance the two.  Art takes money to create, it also takes money to buy.  Art takes time to create, and time costs money, as well as a whole lot more.  How much a painting costs might not be commensurate with the amount of work that’s gone into developing it.  The power to paint and the power to buy come from different sources, but are intertwined.  What’s fair and what’s not change according to who we are and what we need and can realize .  Awareness matters, as do tenacity and being able to go the distance.

Art is whatever you, as artist, or others, as viewers/critics, may want it to be—at the time of creation or afterwards.  All kinds of purposes can be served by what’s been made visible.  Whether metaphors and symbols are evident or not, various kinds of measures are made clear, from within and without—religious, political, idealistic, romantic, aesthetic, or?  Art has an unrivaled ability to give voice to secret yearnings, hidden agendas, and almost-forgotten dreams.  Art puts artist and viewer, alike, in places they might never travel in real life.  It wets the appetite and makes anything seem possible—at least in the moment.

Most artists create art because they yearn to do so.  It makes the unconscious conscious. It also has us realize that powers greater than us are at work when we least and most expect it.  The pieces we are gifted with (as creators or viewers/critics), result from creative processes that are part of a bigger picture (no pun intended) and plan.  They help put things in an out of perspective—enable us to dream, remember, wonder, forget, and more…

In order to be a professional artist these days, simply being able to make art isn’t enough.  You have to be a writer, marketer, networker, gallery aficianado—while having computer savvy too (24/7).  In addition, it’s beneficial if your resume lists formal training (from the right schools/with the right mentors).  This is aside from needing to be a handy(wo)man—knowing how to build and adjust the structures necessary for your artistic creations. Also, resources you might not be able to earn through just selling artwork can come in very handy too!

If it’s worth it, it’s going to take time—an indeterminate amount of time.  Nothing else has to matter except taking things to where they need to go, and have them feel right, or right enough.  And while it’s important to be prepared to put in as much time as needed, it’s also important to know when to stop—recognize when a piece might be finished, or have gone as far as it can go with the skills and experience that you have.  When a piece is rushed, it shows.  Every brush stroke that is deliberate reflects effort and care—respect for the work that is being accomplished.

A painting can be like a puzzle.  You don’t always know what’s going to be easy to solve and what’s not (speaking as artist, not viewer).  I try to learn from and remember every step along the way to know better for next time—have things flow more easily.  An area that seems daunting one day might not be the next.  Or, something that looked good one day, may not work out when other elements are added.  Constantly keeping the whole picture in mind may be a better way to proceed, but this can’t  always happen.  Sometimes, we get stuck on one part for no good reason.  The day goes by, and we feel no further ahead.  Then there’s the good days, when everything works, and you can’t explain why.  The brush is magic in your hands and the paint does exactly what you want it to do, or exceeds expectations.  You wonder, "Who’s painting this piece?" The same happens in writing and other expressive/creative arts.  These are moments to savor  because the times of struggle are usually a lot more familiar and frequent.  But, it’s only because of those struggles that we see the difference and appreciate what we never thought might be possible.  To understand happiness, we need to understand sadness, and so it goes with painting too.

So much of life is luck and timing—and the artist’s process can demonstrate this.  We’re fortunate if we’re able to choose what we paint, though our preferences and outcomes are usually influenced by what’s happening around us.  Painting for the Florence Biennale exhibit has given my work a purpose, focus, and appearance that it might not have had otherwise.  I was influenced by space requirements and deadlines.  I also had to be mindful of making imagery that could have universal appeal.  Then, I had to consider my repertoire—my skills, talents, history, and comfortable subject matter—what I may and may not be able to accomplish at this stage of my career.  Finally, there was the budget—an issue that I didn’t want to have prohibit the quality and dimension of my work.  But, it did.  Whether we like it or not, most artists need patronage of some sort.  Art is an expensive business and can’t be made properly without funds—especially where large public exhibits are concerned.

Being organized matters—even, and especially, as an artist.  Better painting happens for me when my desk is tidy:  correspondence caught up on and phone calls made.  Then, I can shut the door on the studio and just focus on the canvas—no distractions or rambling thoughts and preoccupations or interruptions.  Some days, I know from the start that I shouldn’t have attempted to paint at all.  There’s just too much else distracting.  Other days, I regret not carving out specific time to paint—unable to forget about everything else that has to be done and needs to take priority.  We all have different needs and obstacles and must find what works best for us individually.  For me, painting is a sacred act and privilege, something for which I need to enable quiet space and time in order to reap maximum rewards, experience-wise.  I want a piece to be as whole as possible, unpolluted by the vicissitudes of the hour.  Of course, this is an idealist attitude, but it’s nice to be able to dream and hope.  Painting is also interesting because it is influenced by surroundings and happenings, states of mind and energy levels.  Perhaps because I’ve spent some time practicing art therapy, I’m more concerned with art-making that’s product oriented than art-making connected to the exploration of emotions.  This, however, can prove more difficult when creating abstracts—or so I’ve found.

I wonder about prices a lot—what’ll be fair and what’s not, what works for me as the artist as well as for potential purchasers.  What’s value for money.  What’s value for time.  What’s value for originality and devotion—a piece of my spirit translated to and revealed on canvas.  I try not to think about the middle (wo)man—a gallery or dealer who could jump in and take 50% with an "easier sale."  It can be more prestigious to have that middle person—kind of like having an agent as a writer.  It means you’ve already been weeded out, approved, validated, or regulated and relegated—sometimes, even put your soul on the auction block.  But, just as there are iterary agents who will work with you and those that only have their own profit margins in mind, there are artists’ representatives who are like that too.  Everyone needs to make a living.  At the end of the day, consider who’s starving and who’s not.  These are thoughts constantly floating in my head, as I find it difficult to put energy into trying to get noticed, bought, and valued, while still trying to create.  This isn’t a hobby anymore!  Creating takes soooo much time and skill perfection.  Then, why do potential purchasers insist on bargaining down, like they were in a shuck haggling over a (mass-produced) souvenir memento? Do they realize the time, energy, and dedication put in to what’s been painted?  Could they ever have the skill, talent, or perseverance to make anything similar?  Do they know the real worth of the object created beyond what’s a good deal to them?   Do the bargainers respect the creations or take advantage of an artist’s need for cash to keep up the métier? Ironically, many potential buyers get paid 10 times the dollar rate for work that’s less demanding, and think nothing about submitting invoices to their clients to be paid in advance.  My rambling thoughts on this subject are not about bitterness or jealousy—they’re about others knowingly trying to take advantage.  Of course, there are some artists who let their comrades down by producing inferior work that secures higher prices, just because of hype.  This happens in fashion and other fields too.  Then there’s experience and earning your price point.  But, again, no set path is clear.  Look at Google and YouTube—how quickly they become major monetary successes.  The artist’s path is hard to juxtapose.  For some, networking is everything.  Others don’t have to network.  Regardless, most artists know when they’re doing a good job and the details don’t matter.  The work speaks for itself.  While it’s important for potential purchasers to be prepared to pay appropriate prices, it’s also important for artists to know and expect their true worth—not forget what went into the pieces they’ve made.  Those who slop things out and get big bucks for so-doing—no heart in their work—let down more serious folk.

Ironically, today, many who award grants might not really understand what the artist’s process is all about.  They’re just doing their job, and detached from the players involved.  Then there’s the peer review committees, made up of individuals who too often have their own interests and biases.  And, for those applying for grants, the competition is steep—anyone and everyone who wants to survive in an artistic field needs revenue.  If you can’t work a regular job while creating, what do you do?  Give up?  Many are forced to.  Others go into debt.  Those who keep on going, if they don’t have personal safety nets or private supporters, have to get creative with other fund raising strategies.  And, when you put your creativity into fund raising, you’re taking it out of artmaking.  There’s only so much creativity to be had.  Therefore, you have to hope for kind individuals who you can jump on board to help see you through—assisting with their business acumen to gather the necessary $$$.  Artmaking, when it’s not a hobby, but for public display and enjoyment, is a community service and gift.  An artist, in many ways, is just a transimtter—given opportunities and skills (from outside of him/herself) to put out what others might not be able to do.  Mix a little talent and energy with dedication, industry, and perseverance and a public servant is born, one who needs "patronage" (an old word seldom heard).  Yes, what happened to "patrons of the arts"—those who used to finance artists’ endeavors in front of and behind the scenes—a big reason why art history is so rich and extensive.  It’s only in the last few generations that these types of givers and doers seem to have diminished.  In an age when materialism and quick fixes appear more important than genuine hard work, creative struggle, and innovation, culture and the development and maintenance of "higher" (non-hightech) arts are in jeopardy.  The inability to find support—for the honing of skills that used to gain esteem as a matter of course—is a growing problem, not unique to artists’ predicaments.

JK Rowling discussed her sadness/loss as she completed the Harry Potter series.  Though my work isn’t of the same magnitude or duration as Rowling’s, her sentiments resonate with me.  My Biennale exhibit has been a year-long project—a huge part of my daily identity.  I’ve known such overwhelming expreriences before—for instance, after completing each one of my published (and unpublished) books and each one of my academic degrees (BA, MA, Ph.D., Fine Arts Diploma).  Even for the type of person who puts their all into what they do (professionally, academically, personally) build-up and pull-back can be immense.  They’re also a special gift to be treasured—sadly not in everyone’s reach.

Painting can be physically and mentally draining. It can also elate and energize.  When you put your whole self into your work, and concentrate hard for hours on end, don’t be surprised by how exhausted you might be by the end of a session.  Some days are easier than others, but we never know, in advance, which ones.  (Positive) attitude doesn’t always induce positive outcome.  Art-making is usually more random than formulaic (in my experience).  No matter the rituals that some painters try to set up and try to stick to, not everything can be predictable.  And, if you’re a perfectionist (like me), you’ll go on and on till things look exactly right.

My earlier paintings didn’t take me as long to complete as my later ones do.  A normal expectation would be to be speed up after gaining more experience.  Not at all.  For me, the reverse seems to be the case.  The more you know, the more nit-picking you get (at least in my case).  Standards elevate with a trained and practiced eye.  You see more and what to do even more.  You become critical and less tolerant of what might have slipped by previously.  Each and every detail matters.  Work cannot be "second-rate."  Even if no one else sees your model’s set-up, you have a responsibility for as accurate a rendering as possible (I believe).  You know what should and shouldn’t be there and want to stay true to that.  The pressure is huge, but you have to know when to back off, and learn what’s reasonable and what’s not.  Otherwise, the task becomes impossible.  Sometimes, the positioning isn’t perfect, but you consent and relent to adapt, discovering a slight divergence isn’t so bad after all.  Almost perfect is often better than completely, as you’d once hoped.  Knowing when to calm down and relax about the details is perhaps one of the hardest lessons (at least for me)—can make or break a painting.

My paintings aren’t slapdash.  That is they’re not the type of spontaneous "process pieces" that are dabbed down without thinking.  On the contrary. Surprisingly, thinking is a big part of what I do, as are feeling and intuiting.  Some painters, certain realists for example, might calculate and measure where each element goes and exactly how.  That’s not my way.  I do plan a lot—spend hours on set-up and composition, but still like to leave significant detailing to chance.  For instance, I won’t force a mood or color palette that’s not within my capabilities of the moment.  I also like to guesstimate—even embellish aspects that cry out to me for extra attention.  Consequently, my portraits have caricature-like tendencies and my still-lives are more whimsical than realist.  Then there’s my abstracts, a melange of freedom, control, and spontaneity—more representational than abstract and more abstract than representational.  We see and do what we need to at the time (usually without knowing it)—artist and viewer, alike.

Creative minds are frequently distracted.  An idea surfaces and it’s hard to rest until it can be recorded and/or realized.  My creative bursts come in words and images.  One day it’s words.  Another it’s images.  And, when I’m in the mindset for one the other fades. I can either write or paint, but find it hard to do both together. Over time, I’ve come to know when I’m "off’" or "on"—can be creative or not, and how.  And, I can’t always choose those times.  Some of them are very inconvenient, like today.  I really should be up in my studio painting, but have a word explosion I can’t contain. I need to finish writing this passage—express what’s on my mind while it’s still mulling.  It’s been active for a long time, every day while I’ve been painting.  The thoughts have been there, but the verbalization hadn’t reached a stage fit for sharing—until today. I need to get it out now!  Tomorrow, I’m hoping things will be different.  I have a deadline to meet with my paintings.  The day before yesterday was good with respect to staying focus on painting.  I painted, and painted, and painted, and didn’t get tired.  In fact, I couldn’t eat, drink, or speak on the phone, I was caught up in what I needed and wanted to do, energy growing with each technical difficulty overcome.  I love days like that!  Days with no time limits put you in another place. They’re rare and special, and one of the main secret gifts painting/artmaking/creativity can bestow on those prepared to go the distance—travel bumpy roads on routes you’re not sure can take you anywhere.

Painting takes time—more than you might have under normal circumstances. You need to be prepared to give up many other activities (and breaks) in order to paint seriously, proficiently, authentically, and optimally.  This means attempting to stay with the task by preventing (social) interruptions that may be detrimental to your process.  Vacations, weekends, evenings—times when others are relaxing—start to disappear.  Painting takes over and becomes all important—has to be all important.  It’s not a job like any other.  It’s a vocation, and something you can’t always do on command or within a set time frame.  You have to be prepared to go the distance, even when you’d prefer to be doing something else—not have to endure so much isolation.  That said, if you took time out, the ache of not being there to finish your painting may make other experiences less enjoyable.

How much stamina does it take in order to be a serious painter?  A lot!  Even if you sit down and don’t stand, there’s energy exerted—mental as well as physical.  You’re constantly engaged in your process, focusing and concentrating—stepping forward and back, planning and calculating, trying and retrying, doing and undoing.  Sometimes mental gymnastics exhaust. Other times, the sheer physical strain of keeping steady hands, stretching up and down, or twisting, turning and bending provide a work-out you weren’t anticipating.

Looking for fun "stocking stuffers," Chanukah ideas, house-warmers, and shower, kicthen, or "just because" gifts?

Please be aware that souvenir reproductions of "Buon Appetito!’s"’ twenty images are being sold by the Good Neighbours’ Fund (mangaged by TD Waterhouse, Yonge/St. Clair branch).  This is to help support Buon Appetito! showing at the Florence Biennale.

Please contact the Good Neighbours’ Fund, directly, if you would like to purchase few-of-a-kind souvenir reproductions of "Buon Appetito!" Your interest is much appreciated.

Items being offered currently are listed below. Please click on the image included here, as guide, or go to the "Buon Appetito!" exhibit page to see more.

 
• Five-card greeting card packs are $20 (Fruit-y, Sweet-ie, Vegg-ie, and Fun-ky).

• Individual greeting cards are $4.50 each.

• Bookmarks (with four images) are $2.00 each (Berrries, Fruit+Veg, Sweets, Italian, Tropical).

• Ceramic fridge magnets (measuring 2.5" square) are $10 each.

• 12" unframed prints are $15 each.

• Decorative ceramic tiles are, per tile: 3"—$15, 4"—$20, 6"—$30, 8"—$40.

• Decorative marble tiles are, per tile: 4"—$20, 6" —$35, 8"—$45.

p.s.  DocSusan’s exhibit overview page is now posted on the Biennale’s World Fine Artists’ Site 

Here is a party picture from the October 11 Grano/Florence Biennale party. (Others are posted in the DocSusan’s Website Visual Diary.)

 

Hon Dr. Carolyn Bennett, MP holds her thank-you portrait with award winning film maker husband, Peter O’Brian.  Artist (DocSusan) looks on and Biennale artwork, "Buon Appetito!" hangs behind.

Last night, the newly launched Yonge/St. Clair Good Neighbours’ Fund held its first community celebration/fundraiser at Grano, which from all reports in was a great success.  The event was on behalf of my Florence Biennale exhibit.

Here are some quotes included in the Good Neighbours’ Fund brochure: 

"St. Clair to ArtWalk and the new Wychwood Barns project, to the recent success with Luminato, we have a great deal to be proud of here in Toronto. I am proud to be part of a small effort to make up for the misguided cancellation of the Public Diplomacy Program which used to help fund artists to show their works abroad.   We are truly blessed to have such a talented artist in Susan Makin living and working in our Riding of St. Paul’s.” 
CAROLYN BENNETT
Member of Parliament
St. Paul’s, Toronto

"I have always felt that all arts (and crafts) benefit by rubbing elbows with one another, so I am happy to see food and the visual arts doing just that at The Good Neighbours’ Fund Celebration.  Congratulations on your launch!  Having had significant support from my own community over my life, I am a firm believer in initiatives like this one.  There’s no better place to discover and
support talent than close to home. Very best of luck to you!"
LAURA CALDER
French Food at Home
Food Network, Canada

(Earlier related blog entries include:  Toronto Preview—Florence Biennale Exhibit, Yonge/St. Clair Innovation—The Good Neighbours’ Fund, and Why Canadian Talent Moves Away from Canada.)

Instead of giving a thank-you speech, I read the poem that follows—written especially for the event.  For those who weren’t able to make it to the event, and those who’d like to know more about it, I thought this was the best place to share what I said:

From Boston, to Toronto, to Florence—and Back?

Painting happily in Boston
An invitation arrived

You’ve been chosen by an International Committee of Judges
The President of the Biennale wrote

Which country will you represent?  he needed to know

Canada, of course!  No hesitation

I was ready to come "home"

26 years ago, I settled here
And, to me, this place has become very dear

But, in order to succeed, as many do
A forée across the border broadened my scope
Prompted opportunities
Enabled fresh hope

Thus my work began
To make Canada proud, or so I thought
To become an "emerging Canadian artist," or so I wished

Alas, barely started, I nearly stopped
The painting was my passion, but not the expense
The painting was my vocation, but not the run-around

After close to ten months of rejections
A thousand e-mails and phone calls unanswered
I’m still here to tell the tale
and say THANK YOU

I don’t give up easily
And nor do you!

From one little lead
There got planted a valuable seed
When all else fails, neighbors can be there to help you out
Hear you shout
Stand by your side
Protect another Canadian hyde

An idea for a celebration/fundraiser came into being
Thank you Dr. Carolyn Bennett, MP for St. Paul’s

That idea for a celebration connected to a venue
Thank you Roberto Martella, proprietor of Grano

Next, a committee formed
Thank you David, Danny, Graham, Peter, Ryan and Saverio
My men in shining armour, who’ve enabled this happening

Thank you also to all the business keepers, friends, and acquaintances
who understood the plight

I aplologize if anyone is missed
Please don’t be that little word that rhymes—P-I-S-S-E-D

From those who donated prizes
to those who provided rereshments
to those who volunteered time and energy before and on this night
to those who displayed and forwarded posters and invitations
put up with me…and more

An Academy Awards Speech this is not, but to remember there’s a lot

Off to Florence my precious collection will go
And in six weeks, I will join them

For now, that’s all we know

Looking to the future, no one really can predict what’s ahead

Long live the Good Neighbors’ Fund
For whatever assistance it can provide
Nurture the dreams of other talented Canadians
that they stay in Canada
Not feel forced in other countries to reside.

Big thank you to Justin Skinner for his October 11 news piece in the City Centre Mirror today. Please click on the link to take you there http://www.insidetoronto.com/News/Centre/article/32066 or read text from it below:

NEW FUND SEEKS  HELP FROM GOOD NEIGHBOURS
Grassroots charity will support local artists
BY JUSTIN SKINNER
October 11, 2007 11:14 AM
 
When local artist Susan Makin was invited to enter some of her work in the prestigious Florence Biennale, an international arts competition, she was understandably thrilled. Her excitement turned to disappointment, however, when attempts to find funding to pay her way there came up dry.

Makin’s struggles have led to the foundation of a new grassroots charity that could help local artists and performers showcase their talents around the world.

Makin, a North Toronto resident, said she instituted The Good Neighbours Fund after seeing first-hand the difference between the support artists receive here and the support they find south of the border.

"I was living in Brookline, Mass., until last fall and I learnt a lot of things about good neighbourliness in the way they supported local talent," she said. "When I tried to apply for grants up here, I went through hurdles for about 10 months and just saw lot of roadblocks. Canadian artists unfortunately don’t have much incentive to stay if they’re not going to get the funding."

After appeals to her St. Paul’s MPP Michael Bryant, went nowhere, Makin appealed to her MP, Carolyn Bennett (St. Paul’s), who pledged to help out and suggested a fundraiser. After months of footwork and word-of-mouth promotion, the Good Neighbours Fund finally began gaining traction, with its inaugural event taking place tonight at Grano Restaurant.

"It was an event that was built step-by-step-by-step, and we’ll be lucky just to cover the costs of starting the fund, but hopefully it will turn out to be a success," Makin said.

While the fundraiser was geared to help Makin pay some of the costs of bringing her exhibit, titled Buon Appetito!, to Florence, she said she hopes to keep the Good Neighbours Fund alive, with annual grants to an artist in need.

"The survival of the fund will depend on the outcome of this event and the money raised," she said. "We want to set up a working fund where artists can apply for the grant, but they have to work to earn it."

While working on the fund has taken up a great deal of Makin’s time - she said she has been unable to paint while spreading the word - she said it was definitely a worthwhile venture.

"I see the importance because there’s nothing for individuals formally or informally to find funding for things like (the Florence Biennale)," she said. "Artists are invited to a world-class event and they can’t go because of funding, and Canada just looks shabby."

Graham Kennedy, who has been working with Makin to start the fund, said the goal of this year’s fundraising event was twofold. Ideally, the Good Neighbours Fund will not only raise money for artists and performers, but will also create a sense of neighbourhood spirit.

"We’ve kept it local at first, but we want to create a community of interest more than a community based on geography," he said. "It’s a fund where anyone can help out, not just the high rollers, and people can give as little as five or 10 bucks and know they’re making a difference."

Like Makin, Kennedy said the fund’s future is contingent on how much support the inaugural event drums up.

"Frankly, I don’t think we expect to meet all of (Makin’s) costs, but in a sense this event will let us know how much community interest there is for something like this," he said.

The inaugural event will take place at Grano, 2035 Yonge St., on Thursday, Oct. 11 at 7 p.m. Admission is free (with a suggested $10 donation), with additional fundraising activities on hand at the event.

For information on the fund, including how to make an additional donation, e-mail goodneighboursfund@gmail.com

Toronto—the Bigger Picture

Toronto’s a busy place this week with the Toronto Film Festival.  I walked through Yorkville Thursday evening (the first night) and was astonished by the crowds and hype.  Everyone was waiting for someone, but no one knew who…They just huddled around the barely-opened Hazelton Hotel, and Mark McEwan’s ONE restaurant—likely the best vantage point, as the newest and hottest spot in town.

Behind the Scenes—Community Support

It took five hours, yesterday, to hang my Florence Biennale preview exhibit at Grano.  A big thank you to a dear friend who helped me do this.  I don’t know what would have happened without this gift, or Roberto Martella’s (owner of Grano/arts aficionado) and his patient staff’s support.  

(a taste of the exhibit—no pun intended)

I truly appreciate Roberto’s generosity and endorsement of the exhibit.

 

The Hon Dr. Carolyn Bennett, MP’s personal involvement with the Biennale project has also been tremendous—reflected in her announcement in this fall’s St. Paul’s riding Parliamentary Report and Town Crier column, and despite an incredibly busy official schedule.

(an unofficial portrait sketch)

Irony and Truth—Personal Responses

After completing the Biennale collection, I imagined I’d feel a sense of accomplishment and relief.  The truth is I didn’t.  On the contrary!  Others may believe differently as they enjoy viewing such a cheerful body of work…

The artist’s journey demands strengths and resources beyond art-making.  Creating an international exhibit isn’t an easy or cheap task, physically, emotionally, or financially.  And, along the way, you learn about who can be counted on, as well the politics of where you live, and the kindnesses of strangers.  Confidence, faith, and feeling the product is worthwhile travel a bumpy road, regardless of how good self-esteem may be. The reactions and initiatives of others can be pivotal. 

At significant times in life—and the Biennale appears to be one of them (at least for me)—friends, acquaintances, peers, and strangers have chances to choose to play together (or not)…

The well is dry—temporarily!  Yes, believe it or not, I’m almost wordless…and exhausted.  Put the finishing touches on the last of my 20 Florence Biennale paintings yesterday, and took them to the photographer’s.  Next week, the whole collection should be online, as well as on exhibit in Toronto.  This will be the first holiday weekend of the summer (Labor Day!), when I’ll, (hopefully) be able to take a day off and relax—ride my bike and give the dogs longer walks.  With a new dog bicycle basket attached (since the beginning of the summer, and unused), I’m anxious to enjoy the great outdoors.  Remember, not only have I been in my studio 24/7, Lev and Sage have too—super-loyal studio assistants.  A lot’s going to be happening over the next few months, and I look forward to keeping you posted more regularly.