Category Archives: 2025
Pearls from artists* # 671

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
As a young woman—girl, actually; I was seventeen when I started taking pictures—it would appear that I didn’t have a thing to worry about from the gods. My total lack of promise is exhibit number one in the prosecution of my argument that it is work, and more work, that makes an artist. Proust became Proust that way, indeed furiously working himself to death. But you don’t have to do that—don’t kill yourself in your cork-lined room, don’t be Mozart dying from exhaustion at thirty-five, just put your head down and steadily, resolutely, pull the load.
Sally Mann in Art Work: On the Creative Life
Comments are welcome!
Q: Have you noticed any common characteristics among the people who collect your work?

“Poseur,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 70” x 50” framed
A: Yes! They are fascinating people living lives devoted to nonstop learning, adventurous travel, and other proactive pursuits. Collectors of my work typically range in age from 40 to around 80. They are college graduates with advanced degrees. Sometimes they don’t have kids, which is why they have disposable income and time to pursue their interests in art and culture.
When I meet them (presuming my work was sold through a gallery or other third party), we usually have much to talk about – art, art history, photography, cinema, film history, dance, drama, music, travel, archaeology, Mexico, Central and South America, Bali – the list goes on and on. With so much in common, we quickly become good friends!
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 670

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
I’ve had to keep defining and defending myself as a writer every single day of my adult life – constantly reminding and re-reminding my soul and the cosmos that I’m very serious about the business of creative living, and that I will never stop creating, no matter what the outcome, and no matter how deep my anxieties and insecurities may be.
Over time I’ve found the right tone of voice for these assertions, too. It’s best to be insistent, but affable. Repeat yourself, but don’t get shrill. Speak to your darkest and most negative interior voices the way a hostage negotiator speaks to a violent psychopath: calmly, but firmly. Most of all, never back down. You cannot afford to back down. The life you are negotiating to save, after all, is your own.
Elizabeth Gilbert in Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear
Comments are welcome!
Travel photo of the month*

Lake Titicaca from Isla de La Luna, Bolivia
*favorite travel photos that have not yet appeared on this blog
What I love about this photo, besides the fact that you can see for miles in clear, gorgeous light at 12,000’, is that cactus and snow-covered Andean peaks are visible in the same image.
Comments are welcome!
Q: How do you decide when a pastel painting is finished?

Signing “Apparition,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38”
A: During the several months that I work on a pastel painting, I search for the best, most eye-popping colors, as I build up and blend together as many as 25 to 30 layers of pigment. I am able to complete some areas, like the background, fairly easily – maybe with six or seven layers – but the more realistic parts take more applications because I am continually refining and adding details. Details always take time to perfect.
No matter how many pastel layers I apply, however, I never use fixatives. It is difficult to see this in reproductions of my work, but the finished surfaces achieve a texture akin to velvet. My technique involves blending each layer with my fingers, pushing pastel deep into the tooth of the sandpaper. The paper holds plenty of pigment and because the pastel doesn’t flake off, there is no need for fixatives.
I consider a given painting complete when it is as good as I can make it, when adding or subtracting anything would diminish what is there. I know my abilities and I know what each individual stick of pastel can do. I continually try to push myself and my materials to their limits.
Comments are welcome.
Pearls from artists* # 668

Pastel paintings awaiting pickup by the shipper
Human consciousness moves, but it is not a leap; it is one inch. One inch is a small jump. But that jump is everything. You go way out and then you have to come back – to see if you can move that one inch.
Phillip Guston quoted in Art From Your Core: A Holistic Guide to Visual Voice by Kate Kretz
Comments are welcome!




