Category: Thoughts

Things I’m learning in Artworld.

More on Membership

Somewhere recently I heard that it is a “subscription economy” we are in now, rather than a “membership economy”.

Several of the computer programs I use no longer just sell the program. Instead, they sell a subscription that is either paid monthly or yearly. So, I bought outdated versions, because my internet service isn’t dependable enough. I need the thing to be on my computer, not out there on the World Wide Web. And, I don’t need any more monthly expenses.

Then I got thinking about memberships to stores: I quit Costco because it bothered me to pay to shop (and a couple of other reasons.) But, I joined Amazon Prime for free shipping, because I don’t have to drive down the hill using up gas and time and adding miles to my car.

Lots of free internet services offer premium versions and upgrades. I don’t pay for the premium version of this blog platform because this one works. It already costs me about $500 a year to pay someone to keep it up to date.

I don’t pay for an upgraded version of LinkedIn. I enjoy reading their articles and finding links to good articles online but it isn’t a great use of my time.

Someone far wiser than I (Greg McKeown, author of Essentialism and The Disciplined Pursuit of Less) suggests that when you have to decide whether or not to pay for something that used to be free, think about it this way: “What would I pay to get this if I didn’t have it?”

The business of art requires continual decisions. Choices and consequences, choices and consequences.

100_1890_1 — What shall I do?? Join? Not join? Subscribe? Become a member?

There. Take that, subscriptions. Guess I showed them. — There. Take that, subscriptions.
Guess I showed them.

Membership

Have you heard that we are now living in a “membership economy”? When I read articles and opinion pieces about marketing, particularly marketing online, this idea of membership is promoted regularly.

Before I knew we were in this new “era” (fad, trend, phase, something. . .), I struggled with all the requests to join various organizations.

3 different historical societies, 2 library organizations, 5 art groups, 2 chambers of commerce, and at least 2 more groups that I don’t know how to classify want my money every year. If every organization charged $25 per year, I’d be out $350 a year and buried in newsletters and little cards to put in my wallet. Oh, and there are the stickers they send for your car window and the magnets for your refrigerator.

I do belong to the Auto Club (my car is 20 years old with ~~208,000~~ 210,000miles on it – how is that possible??) and to a few of the aforementioned groups because sometimes it is the only way to be able to participate in various art shows without paying an additional fee.

I’ve puzzled over how to create a membership to my fan club. (Wait – I am supposed to call the participants “collectors”? Hmmm, first I need fans, then I need to form a club, then figure out what they get for joining, design tchotchkes to persuade everyone it is worth the fee, figure out some sort of discount or other enticement to let members feel special, and finally, figure out some sort of internet dealiemabob so that it is automated.

Nah. I’m busy. Gotta keep shredding those membership requests so the bad guys don’t join in my name.

Samson is running away from requests to become a member of The Cutest Kitten Society, Fierce Felines United, and Tabbies International.

What I Think About While I Paint

While I painted recently, I listened to music (Selah is the name of the group), fought off Samson and thought about things.

In Gretchen Rubin’s Four Tendencies, I am without a doubt a Questioner. As a result, most of my thoughts end up as unanswered questions. If an answer arrives, another 2 or 3 or 15 questions pop back up.

Trail Guy and I recently found a cell phone. I emailed all the neighbors and asked if anyone recognized the number. The responses were “Nope, not mine.” Why did no one look on his phone to see if he had the number or name on his own contact list?
What good are mosquitoes in the whole scheme of things?
Why did none of my art teachers teach how to frame, approach galleries, set up shows, title pieces, sell, or reproduce art?
Did I quit school too soon?
Why are all those old cities in Israel buried so deep?
Who dumps dirt on their towns and then moves to a new place?
Why does Samson need to bite everything? (hint: if he came in a pair, his litter-mate would teach him better manners)
Why is it so easy to harmonize with fabulous voices like Selah and so impossible to do it alone?

And, here is a bonus question:

If 7/11 is open 24/7, why don’t they change their name and take the locks off their doors?

The painting I will give to Exeter's Courthouse Gallery annual auction (If Samson doesn't climb it and wreck it.) — The oil painting I will give to Exeter’s Courthouse Gallery annual auction (If Samson doesn’t climb it and wreck it.)

oil paintings

Shhhh, I’m Working

Please forgive the silence on the blog. I am working on a project that requires focus. The customer is away for awhile so I haven’t been given permission to tell about the project.

Samson can keep you company while I work.

Fruits, Nuts and Flakes

The current state of my fruits (no nuts or flakes) in progress

A friend said he disagrees with the idea that California is land of fruits and nuts. He said it is more like a bowl of granola: fruits, nuts and flakes.

I wonder why there is a correlation between flakes and artists. Artists have often been called flaky, and I work very diligently to blast that stereotype from my profession.

In my experience, it is contractors who are flaky. When I find a builder or a repairman who returns calls, shows up on time and actually calls when he cannot make it, I rejoice and spread the word. They are rare birds.

And here is a not so rare bird.

Hey, Rabbi Google (as we were taught to call it while in Israel), these are oil paintings – an orange, pomegranates, and a California quail.

oil paintings

Thoughts on Success in Art

I have 3 nephews. 2 of them are “creatives”, one an accomplished graphic artist supporting a wife and 2 children, and the other about to start his junior year in college as a music major. Might be performing arts, might be music theory. . . can’t remember exactly and embarrassed by asking him too often.

Music Nephew and I have been having an email conversation about “the arts”, and he mentioned how a musician friend of his gets in the way of his own success. I responded with something that I think you might enjoy, Oh Blog Readers (all 4 of you or so. . . maybe 6 or 7, but I still don’t know how to access or read the blog stats).

Most of us trying to make it in the arts are usually in the way of our own success. I’m gradually learning to redefine success. I know I don’t want to spend hours and hours on social media trying to build up a following, so I’m not – that’s success. I’d rather have real people that I know just happily following my blog and thinking of me when they have an art need – they do, so that’s success. I also don’t want to do the crazy hard work of building up a body of work that might appeal to galleries, which I’m not, so that’s success.

My life’s work is to discover and display the good things of Tulare County, a place I love to hate and hate to love. Sigh. Thus, the mixed ideas about success – I am portraying this place, but sometimes I want to live somewhere with a less hostile climate, cleaner air, and richer more educated populace.

If you made it to the end of this bloviation, you deserve a reward. Here, have a look at a successful pencil drawing of a bridge.

Marblefork Bridge, pencil on paper, 11x14 framed, currently hanging at the Courthouse Gallery in Exeter. — Marblefork Bridge, pencil on paper, 11×14 framed, currently hanging at the Courthouse Gallery in Exeter.

Weird?

Sometimes people think artists are weird.

I think everyone is normal until I get to know them.

I did a mental inventory of all the chairs in my house. (Is this weird? Never mind. Don’t answer that question.) As I moved from room to room, I realized that EVERY SINGLE CHAIR IN MY HOUSE is a salvage, a second-hand, a “sure, I’ll take that”.

A few weeks ago, Trail Guy and I were at a dump. (None of your beeswax, but thanks for your concern.) I saw a chair, and knew it was meant for me.

This is not the dump, in case you were wondering. Again, thank you for your concern.

It was a mess, but a classic shape, sturdy frame, and just what our green room needs. The green room is a little empty, and I’ve been thinking about what might be good in there. This chair is just what I had envisioned.

I chose fabric that I thought would suit the chair (a vague blurry bit of it is in the foreground of the photo above) and took a few photos of the chair.

When my favorite upholsterers received the photos, this was the response: “This is a 1950 vintage chair. very popular because of the great lines and comfort. We can repair the back leg or replace. With a new cushion you will have a beautiful chair.”

How beautiful? I almost choked when he named the price.

The senior upholsterer said that when it is finished, it would be worth $1200! I told him I couldn’t afford a chair of that quality or value. Remember, I find my chairs in the dump! (or yard sales,other people’s garages or thrift shops)

I thought about taking the chair back home again, but realized I’d have to unload it. Then I’d think about it for awhile, adjust to the price, make arrangements to load it and take it back to Visalia.

It is a mess, but can’t you see the possibilities here?

Weird? Or resourceful?

It is so satisfying to find something of potential value, to salvage and repair, to find completely unique things, to own items with a story, to enjoy things that are lasting, timeless, and classic.

The upholsterer said it would last 25 years. I thought, “IT HAD BETTER!!”

Uh, does anyone want to buy a coloring book? One hundred coloring books? Or how about an oil painting? A really large oil painting, perhaps?

I’m in a show soon at the Courthouse Gallery in Exeter. Bring your checkbook.

Busy Week Ahead

Today I want you to see the list of things I hope to take care of this week. It will relieve you of any illusions of an artist just happily creating under amazing peaceful inspiration. (That’ll teach me to run off to Israel for 2 weeks when there is work to be done!)

Illusions of peaceful inspiration from Israel

Finish preparing the manuscript of Trail of Promises (final edits) and email to the printer. (Remember that I am now also an editor and dabbling in book shepherding due to my “vast experience” with The Cabins of Wilsonia.)
Wait for the paper proof of the cover and hustle it to the author for approval.
Package up an order of notecards and hustle them to the post office.
Prepare a deposit and hustle it to the bank.
Scramble around to find mats and frames for pencil drawings that pertain to Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks for a last minute exhibit.
Spend time writing a few sentences to accompany every piece.
Email the images and the prices, sizes and “paragraphs of inspiration” (WHAT?? I thought it would make a nice card or print to sell in the parks!! Is that “inspiration”??)
Finish the Exeter coloring book designs – title page, front cover, inside front cover, inside back cover, and back cover, color the covers, scan everything, email it to the printer (hence the reason for the hustle to the bank – gotta pay for these things in advance)

No painting or pencil drawing this week. Just lots of hustling around. Anyone want to order a coloring book? Some notecards? I’ll be going to the post office.

mineral king coloring book

What Does A Central California Artist Do?

Are you wondering how an artist in a place like Tulare County (Central California – there is a huge area of our state that is rural, and it is my job to record and share the good things about this area) can find work to do?

How about a list today:

Teach 5 hours of drawing lessons a week, 3-5 people in each class.
Sell coloring books.
Plan for and draw another coloring book (Anyone want to guess the subject?)
Finish the 24×30″ commissioned oil painting of a Three Rivers house
Begin and finish 3 oil paintings for the upcoming Redbud Festival (May 7-8)
Gather and price the items to take to the Redbud Festival.
Take coloring books to the Post Office, and check supplies at the Three Rivers Mercantile, which has sold more than 2 dozen so far. (Told you we are rural!)
Figure out when to get with a web designer so she can figure out why the shopping cart on this website won’t provide me with the mailing address when people place orders.
Figure out how to put a better subscribe button on this blog that comes with a freebie so that people will want to give me their email address so I can notify them (you?) when the new coloring book is ready. (Have you guessed yet what it will be about?)
Compose and send an email newsletter to my subscribers to remind them of Redbud Festival (May 7-8) and tell them of the new coloring book.

First one to guess and tell me either in the comments will win a free coloring book of the new design!

Thus we conclude a little peek into the work of a Central California artist in rural Tulare County. Not your typical definition of “artwork”.

OH! #11! – BLOG!! GOTTA BLOG!!

WAIT – THERE’S MORE! #12 is reorder the first coloring book, “Heart of the Hills”. You can order one here.

Remember When Life was Simpler?

Life used to be simpler. We have gizmos, devices, technology now that is supposed to make our lives easier, but think about these things:

Remember when your phone didn’t follow you everywhere, demanding continual response?
Remember when you could just go to the doctor and get help without filling out reams of papers, and wondering if you would be able to afford the visit?
Remember when you didn’t have to know the name of medicines and their possible side effects?
Remember when you just ate food and didn’t think about glycemic index, cholesterol, gluten, veganism, or happy chickens?
Remember when you had never heard of identity theft?
Remember when people didn’t cuss on TV or talk about private body functions and then try to sell medicine for them?
Remember when you had never heard of a “carbon footprint”?
Remember when you never considered whether something was organic or local or sustainable?
Remember when you could have a lawn without feeling guilty about it?
Remember when a fire in the fireplace was a normal guilt-free way to add warmth and comfort to a cold evening?
Remember when you only needed a password if you were playing a spy game with a friend? Something common, like “open sesame”?
Remember when “carbs” were called “starches”?
Remember when the only thing you backed up was your car, and you did it by putting your arm across the back of the seat and actually turned your head instead of watching a little television?
Remember when you could ride in the back of a pick-up? Or drink from the garden hose?
Remember when there were drinking fountains and no one carried around expensive bottles of water? You drank when you were thirsty, not when you needed to “hydrate”. . . “Hydrate”?? What is the matter with everyone?
Remember when you wore sneakers for every activity?
Remember back before you had heard of “plantar fasciitis”, “carpal tunnel syndrome”, “irritable bowel”, “acid reflux”?
Remember when you got home from vacation, and all you had to do was collect the mail at the post office?

Yeah.

That’s why people like to color. It returns us to a simpler activity that we enjoyed in simpler times. It requires no special skill, no guilt, no medical terminology, no technology or user name.

This is why I made a coloring book. Easy. Simple. No password required.

Heart of the Hills

Heart of the Hills: a Three Rivers and Sequoia Coloring Book is available at the Three Rivers Mercantile, Kaweah River Trading Company, Three Rivers Historical Museum or here.

That last one probably will require a user name and password. If you see me around, I’ll have a few in the trunk of my car. We can do business that way. Simple.

$15 each plus tax. Easy.

coloring books Three Rivers