The Trauma of Sales

Fibonacci's Dream, 2004
collage with gold leaf, 5x7"

The title of this post likely sounds strange to some - after all why bother having exhibitions in not to share your work with others and hopefully make some sales?  In commercial galleries, this is the natural progression, if you are fortunate enough to find another person who thinks what you do is pretty good.  This is something to look forward to.


But, what happens when you sell something?  That means that it is gone, and that you might not see it again.  What if it is the best thing you'll ever do?  What if you will never have that moment of inspiration or luck that led to its creation again?  And a stranger is the one who gets to see it!  As I said, it sounds pretty silly, but these are all the kinds of feelings that happen...

Early in my career, I had created a new body of work - mostly collages, but a few box-works as well.  I exhibited them, and admittedly they were very well priced - I was just staring out, after all.  And I was lucky enough to find a few people who thought they were pretty good.  And then there were a few more... and a few more.  It became so stressful, I remember having a bit of a panic - what if I can't remember how to do this again?  There were a few tears, and some excitement.  Artists are a bit insane sometimes.  I wonder if other people feel like this or is it just me?

The Golden Wheel, 2004
collage with gold leaf, 5x7"

That was a great show.  There have been other shows since then - fortunately I still remember how to do it (make work).  I've never been able to reproduce this kind of clear-out show (which I am secretly both sad and pretty happy about).  I must thank the couple of folks who thought that my most recent work was okay - I hope that the work will make you happy, and only feel small pangs of stress.. 

Plus, I've learned to take better photos. 

Scavenging

Now that the sunshine and warm weather have arrived (for good I hope), it is time for the annual spring quest for new materials for art-making.  As I seek some balance in the life/work/artist existence, I have set the rather lofty goal of creating two to three new things each month.  For the recent exhibition, I used all of my best 'things' and am now looking for some new inspiration.  This can only mean one thing, a trip to Triple M Demolition in Canfield, ON.  For those of you who know it or have visited with me, you will remember what a treasure trove it is.  Usually, I hunt for 'things that are circles' - wooden circles, metal circles, plastic circles...  I must say that the staff there always sort through my collection of purchases without any of the snarkiness that one might expect of 'old school hardware store men' faced with a girl who doesn't look like she knows what she's doing.  Always a pleasure to shop, and such an exciting scavenger hunt.

This time, in addition to 'things that are circles' I will be looking for industrial light bulb covers and interesting gears to mount them on.  Who knows what I'll actually find.

If you ever go there, you'll know you are in the right place if you see the giant McDonald's sign resting among the patio stones.  They even have the metal grates that go around trees in sidewalks and malls (BIG circles - one day I'll find a reason to buy one of those!).

What's next?

Chasing Windmills, 2010
collage, 7x11"

After a flurry of art-making and angst, my most recent show is now finished.  There is always a funny mix of feelings to sort through, afterwards.  First, I am happy to be working again after a bit of a hiatus - the intense and creative 'working phase' that immediately preceeds a deadline so often results in exciting new things, and forces decisions that have been floating about for quite a while.  It is great, and I am a person who thrives on the pressure of a looming due date.  The flip-side of this is that in the midst of this intensity there is no time or energy to do anything else, so now I have to catch up with the rest of my life.  Also, in this flurry of stress, there is little time for reflection and analysis - time to think about what I am doing and why.

That is where I am now.  It is time to look carefully at the results of an exhibition, decide what worked well, what could be improved and most importantly, what to do next.  This part hurts a little.  The inner critic is ready to burst forth with the unsure questioner in tow.  Am I really happy with the results?  Were other people happy?  In the end, I think I'll decide 'yes', but it may take a bit to get there.   Artists are tricky that way.  My real task now is to accomplish some kind of work/ artist/ life balance.  I wonder if such a thing really exisits...

I am waiting for the professional photos of the new work to come back (a special thanks to my new photographer Kyle McKeown!) and will have more images to share soon.  Then it will be time to review and refresh, and figure out what to do now.

In the meantime, I'll be cleaning up.