Category Archives: An Artist’s Life
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!
Pearls from artists* # 669
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
Pure creativity is magnificent expressly because it is the opposite of everything else in life that’s essential or inescapable (food, shelter, medicine, rule of law, social order, community and familial responsibility, sickness, loss, death, taxes, etc.). Pure creativity is something better than a necessity; it’s a gift. It’s the frosting. Our creativity is a wild and unexpected bonus from the universe. It’s as if all our gods and angels gathered together and said, “It’s tough down there as a human being, we know. Here – have some delights.”
It doesn’t discourage me in the least, in other words, to know that my life’s work is arguably useless.
All it does is make me want to play.
Elizabeth Gilbert in Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear
Comments are welcome!
Remembering Bryan, today and every day!
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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!
Q: Pastel dust can be toxic. Do you use air filters in your work space?
Barbara’s Studio
A: No, but I wear a surgical mask when I work, to prevent breathing pastel dust. Also, I use a barrier cream, called Artgard, to prevent pigment being absorbed into my skin through cuts. I take care that my head is always higher than my hand as I work, so the dust is below my mouth and nose. It’s difficult to tell from the photo but my easel is tilted forward, allowing pastel dust to fall onto the easel and floor.
I am well aware of the toxicity of pastel, especially with colors that contain cadmium, and believe I take the proper precautions. After forty years working with soft pastel, so far I’ve managed to stay healthy.
Comments are welcome.
Pearls from artists* # 667
“Magisterial,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38”, in progress
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
This is the eternal origin of art – that a human being confronts a form that wants to be one a work of art through him. Not a figment of his soul, but something that appears to the soul and demands the soul’s creative power. What is required is a deed that a man does with his whole being […] and the work is imperious: if I do not serve it properly, it breaks, or it breaks me. The form that confronts me I cannot experience nor describe: I can only actualize it. And yet I see it, radiant in the splendor of the confrontation, far more clearly than all the clarity of the experienced world.
Martin Buber quoted in Art From Your Core: A Holistic Guide to Visual Voice by Kate Kretz
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 666
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
Most of my writing life consists of nothing more than unglamorous, disciplined labor. I sit at my desk and I work like a farmer, and that’s how it gets done. Most of it is not fairy dust in the least.
But sometimes it is fairy dust. Sometimes when I’m in the midst of writing, I feel like I am suddenly walking on one of those moving sidewalks that you find in a big airport terminal; I still have a long slog to my gate. And my luggage is still heavy, but I can feel myself being gently propelled by some exterior force. Something is carrying me along – something powerful and generous – and that something is decidedly not me.
You may know this feeling. It’s the feeling you get when you’ve made something wonderful, or done something wonderful, and when you look back at it later, all you can say is: “I don’t even know where that came from.”
Elizabeth Gilbert in Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 665
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
We are wordlessly persuaded and taught outright to hide so much of what we have unearthed in our lives. But artists throughout the centuries have described the power of using anguish as a catalyst to fuel their creativity. In Greek epic poetry, ‘Kleos’ refers to immortal renown. Unlike present-day fame, this term referred exclusively to heroes who had surmounted a great obstacle or persevered through tremendous difficulties. There is a certain authority that comes from those who have endured hardship. They have earned the depth of their work.
Darkness contains a great deal of energy. We can use it for destruction or creativity. Only those who tolerate it are able to illuminate the shadowy corners, revealing the nefariousness that hopes to stay hidden. We cannot change our past, or any hell that we have been through. But art provides the means to exorcise the pain that has taken up residence in our body and fashion it into a form outside ourselves, in an infinitely affirmative gesture. The darkness we have passed through was not endured in vain if we mold it into a vision that lights the way out… for us, and for all the other souls who undoubtedly need it.
Kate Kretz in Art From Your Core: A Holistic Guide to Visual Voice
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 664
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
Throughout history, geniuses have attributed their breakthroughs to the time they spent alone, deep in thought. Frank Kafka assures us,
‘You need not leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. You need not even listen, simply wait. You need not even wait, just learn to become quiet, and still, and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice; it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.’
Artists have a special relationship with the passing hours. Our work is tangible evidence of how we mark and give value to time. We have a finite, unknown number of hours on Earth, so we will only leave behind so many pieces. Our artistic legacy is literally tied to our ability to steal time and maintain silence.
And yet, we exist in a time and place with a tremendous aversion to peace. We must fight both ourselves and others to acquire it. No one asked us if this is the kind of environment we want to inhabit. Corporations inundate every square inch of space with uninvited visual and auditory interference, designed to light up the addiction pleasure centers in our brains. Our ancestors would have found this environment assaulting and maddening. It is certainly causing damage to our mental health, happiness, and creativity. But, it is so ubiquitous that there is pressure to simply accept the anxiety-producing ‘new normal’: we have collectively surrendered our brain space to the colonization.
Kate Kretz in Art From Your Core: A Holistic Guide to Visual Voice
Comments are welcome!
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