Monday, February 20, 2006

Day job and Sacred Art Journey

It is always funny when someone walks into the studio and declares how nice it would be to just be an artist and make pretty pictures all of the time. Which is true. How nice! Most passersby have no concept that the majority of artists have to work a day job, night job whatever it may be to live and or support the habitual need to create. They also have no concept that we must spend at least 50% of our time to market if we want to develop awareness and sales. The ongoing saga, catch22 of getting $$. Jan Richardson, author of Sacred Journeys recently spoke at the Orlando Museumof Art for Bezalel, where she expressed how sales for artists are the way one is supported by doing what we are meant to do. It was a new way of looking at THE SALE. It gave it some heart for me.

I supported Jan by purchasing 3 of her books. Books which often call to me have done so as they feed my hunger and stir my soul. She asks many questions,which I might explore here in these pages.

what is your earliest memory of creating? I do not remember a time when I wasn't creating. I recall making eyeshadow from banging stones against the concrete.

My mother provided the materials, and allowed messes for creating. I often get frustrated with mothers who impede their children's creativity because it will make too much of a mess. I remember the special painting shirt from kindergarten, actually I should call it a frock, handmade by my mother, from white material that had paint spatters of red, blue yellow and green all over it. Did she know then I was meant to paint?

Have you or women you know used or reused materials to fashion new creations?
This I believe is also going back to my parents whose continual practice of frugality instilled the ability to make something with what we had, that includes cooking. During some years when I was a childcare taker, I had 8 little girls to feed, in a kind of job sharing arrangement, and they would call a soup I would make Robin Egg Stew. Like the book Stone Soup, made with whatever we had to nourish those who were hungry. People who have never lived like this are so surprised with creative problem solving. Back to fashioning new creations; in trying to expand my own self imposed limitations of staying within the box of solitary mediums for competitions sake I have recently explored tearing and cutting my old clothes to use in borders of pastel, acrylic mixed media pieces. Here is my first one. What do ya think?

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