There is a bit of a debate about whether or not to discount your work as an artists. It is one of those things that each artists has to decide for themselves. Some artists have a sale going on almost all the time. Others refuse to ever put their work on sale. I put my work on sale several times a year for a few reasons. Number one, I want to make my work accessible to new collectors and seasoned collectors alike. I love it when my clients tell me that this is the first piece of original art they have ever purchased, or when they let their daughter pick a favorite piece for their "big girl room," or when someone tells me that they have been waiting to move into their first place so that they can decorate it with my work. Being the first piece of art in their collection is as special to me as having my work hung in the same home as so many investment pieces. Number two, I paint a lot. Like A LOT. and the moment my studio starts to feel too crowded I either stop painting completely or I start painting over works. So in order to continue to do this thing I love so much, I need works to be moving out of my space. And Number three, because I like to show my appreciation for my clients. When I started painting, I thought that a client would buy my work once and then move on. The fact that so many of my clients continually and repeatedly support my practice means that we have more than just an artist / collector relationship. What do you think about Art on sale? Is it devalue the work or does it inspire you to buy more?
I would love to hear your thoughts, Margaret How do I start the next thing? What is the NEXT THING?!?!?? I started painting as a creative outlet and a way to reduce stress. And yet I tend to stress about what is coming next out of the studio. I think that it is natural for artists. There is an ebb and flow of inspiration in the studio that occurs but it is hard to be out of the studio for any length of time and feel like there is not a distinct direction when you return. My goal in that first year of painting was to be more creative and to put it out there. I really try and return to that when inspiration retreats from view. The point of creating is not that I will make masterpieces every time I approach the easel but that I will keep coming back, that allowing work to develop is a discovery for me, that the process is more important than the results. Staying with that in mind, I quite often paint over works that sit too long in the studio {that's right even your favorite isn't safe from my constant painting} and I look for ways to make play or experiment, trying other artist's techniques on occasionally or working in new color palettes. I try to keep it fun. I recently came across a painter on Youtube who was just so much fun to watch. I think I sat through 7 or 8 videos because he was having so much fun. Of course I learned something along the way {his carrot people were awesome} but more than that it reminded me that this whole things is supposed to be fun. It shouldn't be overly formulaic or made to sell. For me painting is about playing and discovery. The collections develop themselves, I just have to show up and keep painting. This may be why I keep returning to meditation and yoga because they are also both about just showing up. All three are practices. Each help me slow down and let go of control. And that might be the hardest part about starting a new collection, letting go of controlling what it will become and just allowing it to reveal itself.
I'm curious to know what things you do that allow you to unplug from the world and turn off your thoughts for a while. Comment below or send me an email. Margaret I was not particularly artsy growing up. I didn't doodle or draw, I can't remember a single art class, and I never had dreams of becoming an artist. Not once. I graduated from Howard University with a degree in exercise physiology and abruptly decided that I wanted to be a chef. I got a degree from the New england Culinary Institute and so began the next 15 years of life in the kitchen. It was a romantic vision when I started, cooking for friends, family and clients while listening to jazz. I can almost see the sparkling twinkles of joy as I think about it now. The reality wasn't so far off but included late nights, weekends, and holidays working long days. At some point, the grind of it all started to stress me out. I fell into a depression and didn't want to do any of it. If someone called me for a job I immediately said no, if they emailed me I guilted myself into taking it and resented it afterwards. The work hadn't changed, it wasn't more difficult or more hours, but I just couldn't do it anymore. I remember sitting halfway up the stairs absolutely sobbing to my husband about how DONE I was with cooking. I am not sure I ever cried like that before or since. I spent the next year not cooking. Because my life had been so busy and unpredictable I didn't have an hobbies, so I didn't have anything to occupy my time other than my family and a part-time job at Williams Sonoma. The spring after that decision to stop cooking, I started to think about Calligraphy. I had always wanted to try it but, of course, I never had the time. So I took an online course and started practicing for 10-20 minutes each day. That was the start of two amazing things. First, by doing Calligraphy for 20 minutes a day, over the course of a month there is a significant improvement. Second, I had carved out 20 minutes a day for creative time. Once I decided that I was not going to be a calligraphist, I realized that I could use that time for whatever I wanted. I held on to the motto I picked up from other calligraphers "practice not perfection" and I was off to the races. That summer was all about watercolor and in the fall I was into acrylics. {NB I did play with acrylics for about 2 weeks in Culinary school and again for a week 7 years later but I hadn't had any courses or long term practice} I had been on Instagram for about a year by that point, {Vegans and Calligraphist are still my favorite communities, they are soooo supportive!} and as I started posting the women in dresses in acrylic on my Instagram feed, I started getting requests to purchase them. I was also contacted by an old friend from Howard, who was also now an artist. She challenged me to go bigger with the Women. "Do an 18in x 24in," she said. "You're ready" To which I thought, I'm not afraid to go bigger, I just don't know why I should... I took the challenge anyway and painted one 18in x 24in and one 24in x 36in. Both sold within a couple of weeks. So I began to paint more of the Women as well as some Abstracts. Over the course of the next year, opportunities just presented themselves and I said yes to all of them. After that I began to strategize and plan out events are marketing, to make the work into a business. I think what I have learned since that first year is that the most important part of the equation is the time in the studio painting. If I find passion in the work, other people respond. If I play and experiment, I grow. If I listen to my heart and my gut, I find the truth of what the work is telling me. If I focus on the work, it is life giving, it feeds my soul and my heart, it refreshes me.
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November 2019
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