Art Hoochies, Posers, and Groupies, sculpture and airbrushing. I’d figured, missing out on high school I would only loose out on some parties and maybe being a kid raising a kid no big deal. I would never have guessed I would need a degree in psychology to figure out who was real and who was a poser. But over the years I think I have it figured out.
A few weeks ago I was referred to as a real artist as I am an artist yes? and just happen to have long hair, what the length of my hair has to do with being an artist I’ll never know. I grew up in a time and environment in which many people and kids had long hair. Some were college educated and some were not, but everyone had an opinion about it. Don’t You? Visual art and music are kind of the same, like hair is the deciding factor for some about both. Well from my position art women are the same. The first art show I did I met a lot of people, there was about a 50-50 mixture of men and women. There were 4 or 5 of us showing our work. I was the only one with long hair and how this related to women didn’t occur to me yet. They sure liked my art but they loved me, and I at the time, I was in love my son’s mother. Needless to say, she was unimpressed with the whole thing and becoming hostile
At this art show there were two of us that painted with an airbrush and the others worked with brushes. I didn’t think much of it at the time, I was just happy to be there, my Ex was not. I didn’t sell anything but I didn’t really expect to anyway. I was young and new at this art show thing and still finding where I fit.
Over the next few years I learned a few things about the people that go to art shows. You wouldn’t think so, but can you ever start or get into a lot of trouble at an art show. Some go to buy art, some go to look, talk and schmooze artists, and some go for? SEX!
And no one wares a badge!
By the morning after my first show opening, the owners of the art gallery were split. She, was a Hoochie that painted. He, was screwed up by the art groupies that she played hostess too. She’d sold all her work. Come to think of it, something like that happened at almost every show opener I’ve ever heard of or been to.
In the fine art biz, schmooze is the rule. It’s often about who you know, rather than the art you do. But it helps to be good. Another thing is if you are in a relationship it better be strong or your/its done. You want to sell, but every show is as different as are the “patrons”. I used to live in a city with an art event known as “the works”. It overlapped their” jazz city” festival and when the outdoor venue was going. All the artist and jazz people would be swirling around in the steam of this summer’s themed “epicureans dream”.
It was the same every year. Hoochies, food and groupies and posers, artists , musicians and a token patron or two alike would party and dance in the cities street light. Interestingly, I noticed most of the art sold other than what the street vendors sold was abstract. I’m not ranting I’m a surrealist. A great family party in the downtown core. E-town where you can buy and sell art, get drunk to and a whole lot more. Always thought the ones with the most talent did well? That will remain to be seen.
Like a “Zen Warrior” with an airbrush or something, off on a slippery slope or a tight rope.I had it figured out, but the things they would say to try and get their way.
The best way to sell art is to be a team, its safer and easier. You better be strong or it could be very difficult no matter how good you are. Some people sense that there is something different, something art like about us and they want a piece.
When I was younger I was easier to approach vs today, but they still try. Sometimes I wonder if they don’t try harder now that I’m older. Often its part of how the game is played. And if you play with integrity and the right people you sell art.
Everyone wants to know you arbitrarily, some meet you, then think it was an invitation into your life. On one occasion I met some people at an art show, and a couple years later I met one of these people again, who introduced himself as me. But that’s not weird is it, so if when you meet us and we’re kind of stand off-ish don’t think me arrogant or rude. We just meet lots of people.
I did one art show in a gallery located on the concourse level of an office tower in the city core. My girlfriend and I brought our single friend with us. She didn’t know much about art and had never been to an art show opening.
Climbing from the cab in front, we strode across the cement and through the doors. We were met by a big angry man in a suit with radio in hand. Being me, I was casually late and half the guests had already arrived. I arrived under dressed in my usual garb at this mans feet with a girl in each arm, somehow this offended him. I was about to say something when all of a sudden he just started yelling at me.
As he was finishing up his dissertation on why we should leave on account of this art show and that he was hired to keep people me and my friends out. I said “I believe I’m paying your salary this evening, and if your upset maybe you might take a short break, until you’ve had time to calm down”. He seemed to get even more upset at this. Maybe I didn’t have my hair cut the same as his I don’t know. I told him my name which he barked into the radio and shortly a garbled noise came back and he just turned and walked away.
As we reached the top of the escalator the gallery owner appeared. He apologized profusely for the security mans behaviour. Checked our coats got us drinks and took us on the rounds. Between the three of us we managed to tie most everyone up at one point or another.
There were 4 other artists showing that night and it was the first time I felt like I was with my art equals. I had a secret weapon though. The other artists all went to the show as sales people, I went as me,” artist and company”. Everyone we spoke to got a good perspective as to who this Artist was and what he is about. I sold all but one. Having the total support and understanding of your partner is paramount, but it never happens. Remember this no one helps someone be famous, so sooner or later you’ll have to do it alone.
A few days after this however, I found a disturbing message from the gallery owner on my answering machine. “Do you know where so and so and so and so's wive’s are? The last time anyone heard from them was at the show, it’s like they just vanished”. I think wives should have been replaced with hoochie as a couple days later, I got another message. They had been found, and would be back from L.A. just as soon as they had scrapped up airfare. Needless to say, they weren’t married when they got back.
The girlfriend I went with, got the messages first and absolutely freaked out. Somehow she seemed to think I knew something about them, and was in on it. So be warned! Hoochies come in all shapes and sizes. Anyone can be made into one as well. Just add attention, lubrication and something/one new liberally and stir. Everyone has their place and time, all you need is hoochie repellent (knowledge and insulation). Something else you may not know . You can love your partner with unfaltering loyalty and integrity, but without their trust and understanding. Your broke and or single. The reason why! hoochies, posers, and groupies. If this is not the case for you, then your not the first and probably have lots of new ideas to paint, draw, or sculpt. I know I do…..
Copyright Arthur Wayne 2009-02-21 All rights reserved
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
The way I are
In the beginning, ‘real artists’ didn't just happen. It started a long time ago with just an idea in their heads and no idea where their art was going to take them or how they would get there. There was a time when I never thought of myself as an artist, and even today when people give me compliments on my work I have trouble accepting it, without making a deflating statement of some sort or another. It’s just the way we are. There are some artists with really big heads and some talented artists with no head at all, and then there’s me.
I have always tried to do the best depiction, sculpture, design that I could muster. In the end, my art always came out more or less the way I saw it, based on my skill level or mood at the time of course. People would ask about finished paintings: "Did you know it was going to look like that when you started?" Never having been the kind of artist that goes back and "dabbles" a little bit more, my motto is, “When it’s done it’s done - that’s it, the end.”
My weapon of choice when I started art was a crap blue ball point pen and whatever paper was handy. If I had time to kill, more often than not you'd see me drawing. Sometimes all I had to work on was the flap in the top of a 25 pack of smokes, and if I was really hard up (had no smokes) I'd draw on the inside of the empty pack. Over time, my choice in pens changed to very fine felt tip pens. I like the way pen & Ink (black and white) looks.
Then one day I broke my wrist. A week or so later, I just happened to be out on my balcony and saw a neighbour out on his deck painting with an airbrush. Intrigued, I made my first airbrush out of pen parts and a hypodermic needle and used an aquarium air bubbler for air. It didn't work very well, but I was hooked. When my first compensation cheque came a few weeks later, I bought a real one along with a noisy compressor. I’ve been airbrushing ever since and upgrading my equipment along the way.
In the early days of art, a ride on a bus could be a great source of inspiration. Life in general, no place in particular was just fine. Incidentally, I don't draw people, I mean I do portraits and special-request nudes etc., but my art is about representing an insight, epiphany, event or thing that I witness. Kind of like a diary of sorts, but it’s in a pictographic sort of code in that all things are related, no matter how abstract those connections seem.
Probably from the first time I showed my work I've had people tell me how good I was. When I look back at some of the strange conversations I've had with people about my art, I really wonder. I still have some of those paintings and drawings and I still don't see it. Good thing I guess, or I never would have kept at it. It’s kinda dumb though, when I was in public school I was never really allowed to do creative things. If memory serves, I think I was always in trouble for not doing the things I sucked at first, so there was never any time left for art, I guess.
When I was 20-ish, I ended up in a trade school taking a badly put together graphics course which I was thrown out of on a couple of occasions in the form of suspensions etc. On one occasion, something that transpired caused the cancelation of three days classes for 100 plus students while the faculty tried to figure what to do about it - oh ya, it wasn't just because of me. But even as an adult (I didn't go to high school but that’s another story) I was getting into trouble for asking the wrong question. For example, when it was time for the school open house their various displays were pretty dry without my stuff. And I said something to the effect of "How can you show my stuff and take credit for it if I have been formally tossed out? That would be a copyright infringement according to what you taught me, wouldn't it?” Needless to say, that was the beginning and end of my (sort of) formal art education. I think all I learned through that was this: ‘Those that teach probably do so as a result of wanting to stay involved but are un-able to actually do.’ I did learn some other interesting things though that I’ll save for subsequent posts.
But now with all that said, I will tell you why I have started this blog. A long-time friend passed on this past week. Prior to this, he set some things in motion and people in contact with me and unfortunately I didn't act fast enough to find out why. Maybe through these musings I will understand and you (the reader) may learn something too from my experience. I will try hard not to rant but art is - after all, a tactile emotion. I will now continue on for the both of us.
I have always tried to do the best depiction, sculpture, design that I could muster. In the end, my art always came out more or less the way I saw it, based on my skill level or mood at the time of course. People would ask about finished paintings: "Did you know it was going to look like that when you started?" Never having been the kind of artist that goes back and "dabbles" a little bit more, my motto is, “When it’s done it’s done - that’s it, the end.”
My weapon of choice when I started art was a crap blue ball point pen and whatever paper was handy. If I had time to kill, more often than not you'd see me drawing. Sometimes all I had to work on was the flap in the top of a 25 pack of smokes, and if I was really hard up (had no smokes) I'd draw on the inside of the empty pack. Over time, my choice in pens changed to very fine felt tip pens. I like the way pen & Ink (black and white) looks.
Then one day I broke my wrist. A week or so later, I just happened to be out on my balcony and saw a neighbour out on his deck painting with an airbrush. Intrigued, I made my first airbrush out of pen parts and a hypodermic needle and used an aquarium air bubbler for air. It didn't work very well, but I was hooked. When my first compensation cheque came a few weeks later, I bought a real one along with a noisy compressor. I’ve been airbrushing ever since and upgrading my equipment along the way.
In the early days of art, a ride on a bus could be a great source of inspiration. Life in general, no place in particular was just fine. Incidentally, I don't draw people, I mean I do portraits and special-request nudes etc., but my art is about representing an insight, epiphany, event or thing that I witness. Kind of like a diary of sorts, but it’s in a pictographic sort of code in that all things are related, no matter how abstract those connections seem.
Probably from the first time I showed my work I've had people tell me how good I was. When I look back at some of the strange conversations I've had with people about my art, I really wonder. I still have some of those paintings and drawings and I still don't see it. Good thing I guess, or I never would have kept at it. It’s kinda dumb though, when I was in public school I was never really allowed to do creative things. If memory serves, I think I was always in trouble for not doing the things I sucked at first, so there was never any time left for art, I guess.
When I was 20-ish, I ended up in a trade school taking a badly put together graphics course which I was thrown out of on a couple of occasions in the form of suspensions etc. On one occasion, something that transpired caused the cancelation of three days classes for 100 plus students while the faculty tried to figure what to do about it - oh ya, it wasn't just because of me. But even as an adult (I didn't go to high school but that’s another story) I was getting into trouble for asking the wrong question. For example, when it was time for the school open house their various displays were pretty dry without my stuff. And I said something to the effect of "How can you show my stuff and take credit for it if I have been formally tossed out? That would be a copyright infringement according to what you taught me, wouldn't it?” Needless to say, that was the beginning and end of my (sort of) formal art education. I think all I learned through that was this: ‘Those that teach probably do so as a result of wanting to stay involved but are un-able to actually do.’ I did learn some other interesting things though that I’ll save for subsequent posts.
But now with all that said, I will tell you why I have started this blog. A long-time friend passed on this past week. Prior to this, he set some things in motion and people in contact with me and unfortunately I didn't act fast enough to find out why. Maybe through these musings I will understand and you (the reader) may learn something too from my experience. I will try hard not to rant but art is - after all, a tactile emotion. I will now continue on for the both of us.
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