This morning—a beautiful clear morning with sunshine, cool enough temps so I could wear my comfortable old work sweater, quiet peace (except for bird song [okay, crows cawing but I like them too], occasional piercing dog barks from next door and the garbage truck on the street, especially as it reverses direction)—felt especially beautiful since I felt free to focus on studio work.
However, the doubts about continuing with art have been coloring the fabric of my soul. Our web site visitor statistics have dropped by about 30%, but then I never did figure out why 1000 “new visitors” a month came to visit www.artmsr.com so maybe that’s not even a valid question. The 30% drop in visitors also approximates our USD investment return.
Yet after 10 wildly dedicated years of taking any free opportunity and energy to do art and art stuff (checking exhibit calls, participating in exhibits and/or openings or just seeing shows, learning a less painful way of dealing with rejection, minimum shipping of art, reading art news from a dozen different sources, participating in least-pernicious web platforms [yes, I’m still reluctant about Zuckerberg’s and growing more doubtful about Musk’s], doing the business side of deposits/purchases for art supplies and call fees, etc., maintaining inventory, maintaining the web site content, writing this occasional blog) as I face upcoming cataract surgery and the possible revision of my color sense and vision, questions about the validity of my practice are again surfacing. I’m 77 and am actively developing macular degeneration, have obstructive sleep apnea, and am at stage four in COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease). This suggests (especially the COPD) I don’t have a whole lot of energy. Yet I’m wildly pleased that my husband Mickey and I have escaped the COVID so far.
So I wanted to summarize all these factors before I lost the high of creation. Yes, I started a new art piece this morning honoring the poet Rita Dove’s “Demeter’s Prayer to Hades.”
I even, for the first time, mixed part of the palette to use in Dove’s tribute. Waiting for paint to dry, since I established a background color for the piece, I am here writing this blog. And I can freely say that the return from studio work has left me high and excited, like nothing else in life can do. Not all art pieces begin this way. Most often the beginnings are accompanied by stumbling uncertainty or downright distress. I believe this is part of any creative act whether it’s in the arts, the kitchen, the farm—wherever something new is coming into being.
So why do I make art? It is something special to make something from nothing. And that something special might even be considered beautiful. It’s something wonderful to honor and express one’s being. It’s something unique to communicate in a visual, abstract realm and know some very lovely people hear and see it. It’s something personal to honor and highlight people, issues and experiences that are important to me and shape my being. In doing art, the process of learning and discovery is infinite. This is why I still do art.
However, the doubts about continuing with art have been coloring the fabric of my soul. Our web site visitor statistics have dropped by about 30%, but then I never did figure out why 1000 “new visitors” a month came to visit www.artmsr.com so maybe that’s not even a valid question. The 30% drop in visitors also approximates our USD investment return.
Yet after 10 wildly dedicated years of taking any free opportunity and energy to do art and art stuff (checking exhibit calls, participating in exhibits and/or openings or just seeing shows, learning a less painful way of dealing with rejection, minimum shipping of art, reading art news from a dozen different sources, participating in least-pernicious web platforms [yes, I’m still reluctant about Zuckerberg’s and growing more doubtful about Musk’s], doing the business side of deposits/purchases for art supplies and call fees, etc., maintaining inventory, maintaining the web site content, writing this occasional blog) as I face upcoming cataract surgery and the possible revision of my color sense and vision, questions about the validity of my practice are again surfacing. I’m 77 and am actively developing macular degeneration, have obstructive sleep apnea, and am at stage four in COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease). This suggests (especially the COPD) I don’t have a whole lot of energy. Yet I’m wildly pleased that my husband Mickey and I have escaped the COVID so far.
So I wanted to summarize all these factors before I lost the high of creation. Yes, I started a new art piece this morning honoring the poet Rita Dove’s “Demeter’s Prayer to Hades.”
I even, for the first time, mixed part of the palette to use in Dove’s tribute. Waiting for paint to dry, since I established a background color for the piece, I am here writing this blog. And I can freely say that the return from studio work has left me high and excited, like nothing else in life can do. Not all art pieces begin this way. Most often the beginnings are accompanied by stumbling uncertainty or downright distress. I believe this is part of any creative act whether it’s in the arts, the kitchen, the farm—wherever something new is coming into being.
So why do I make art? It is something special to make something from nothing. And that something special might even be considered beautiful. It’s something wonderful to honor and express one’s being. It’s something unique to communicate in a visual, abstract realm and know some very lovely people hear and see it. It’s something personal to honor and highlight people, issues and experiences that are important to me and shape my being. In doing art, the process of learning and discovery is infinite. This is why I still do art.