Trusting Yourself Enough To Buy Art

The winner of last week's small paper painting give away is the talented author Suzi Parker! Congratulations Suzi! Please contact me so I can mail the painting (shown above) to you. Thanks again to everyone for the wonderful comments! It is so nice to have readers, I remember when I had very few, and rarely any comments. Knowing that you are out there reading this means a great deal to me, and is very encouraging. Thank you all. Please tell your friends about my blog and about my paintings!

Today, I want to switch gears. Last night, I was visiting with a friend who is not an artist, so I took the opportunity to pick his brain about growing up with or without art, buying or not buying art; and what art can bring to a person's life, as well as the misconceptions that hang over the art world.

I asked my friend if he had grown up with art (original or prints) around his house. It turned out he had not; on the walls were mostly family photographs. However, he did remember a few limited edition prints by a well known regional artist that were in his house. He also remembered that his family had actually persuaded other members of his extended family into buying the same regional artist's prints as well. I then asked him if he had art around his current home. Not surprisingly, he did not, but he did have that same regional artist's prints in his closet propped up against the wall! When I asked why he did not have any other original art, he said, he simply did not trust himself, and wouldn't know what was "good" or what he "should" like. I am over simplifying our conversation, and this idea of not trusting oneself isn't completely new to me. I know some people feel they need to be told what is good. My friend was quick to point out the role of the interior decorator (telling people what to like and putting it together for them in the "right" way.) My friend enjoys art and he values it, but he just doesn't think to buy it, and he is not alone. There are many people out there who enjoy art, but just don't feel the need to purchase or simply don't trust themselves to take the plunge.

Living with art is so ingrained within me, that I forget about "trust." For me, wanting and buying art is a natural and intuitive process. I explained to him that I have never lived without it.There were always prints of Picasso, Cezanne, Modigliani, La Tour, Ben Shahn, Klee, and O’Keeffe, along with a good smattering of original art from friends and others in my family home. When I moved out, every apartment of mine had sketches from friends, art oddities, my own paintings, as well as prints. Today, I am the proud owner of many original works by local and national artists. It is a part of my life and in my life; it is a necessity. You are likely to see me wearing the same "good" pair of shoes I have been wearing for the last 5 years, but I will have bought many small affordable pieces of art since. The longer I am a part of this profession, the more I feel the need to support my fellow artists in this way.

I just received a new piece of art in the mail this week, and it is always so exciting and so rewarding! Another connection is made, another artist is encouraged, and my home becomes a reflection of the inner worlds and dreams of another, that then meet with my own visions to create the most personal and unique atmosphere.

I guess today's message is trust yourself to know what you like, and don't wait for someone to tell you when something is good. Don't be afraid to mess up, there are many affordable pieces of art in the world to purchase and to help build your confidence level. For the price of a nice dinner out and drinks, a nice outfit, a trip to the salon, or a new ipod, you could have something special and one of a kind; all the while doing something for the artist that is priceless, encouraging them to continue on the path.

Art is not food, shelter, or a full tank of gas; it is not required to live. Art is not really about having the right taste or style or about value or investment. Art is about a connection, and isn't that what we are all searching for?

Only two weeks away!!

Evidence of the Disappearance
Blue Moon Gallery
718 Central Ave.
Hot Springs, Arkansas
June and July 2008
Opening Reception: Friday June 6 from 5-9pm, during first Friday gallery walk.


Threads
Megan Chapman
Mixed Media on Canvas
30x40"
2008

No one told me...

I only had an hour, and I wasn't sure who I would see as I had never been to the St. Louis Art museum. It is almost sacrilegious to only have an hour in a museum, but that is what I had, so I had to make the most of it. I knew before I went that I wouldn't have much time, so I scoped out the collection headings online. Modern, Contemporary, and Photography- these collections would be the focus during my time there. We got the floor map as soon as we arrived, scanned it nervously and we were off; scurrying up to the 3rd level.

A curious behavior takes over me when I am in a museum, a sense of urgency rushes through me (perhaps it was anxiety at only having an hour). I want to see as much as I can, and I become a hunter. I search for certain old friends that I must at least give a cursory nod to before I can leave.

At first, I get to the section and I kind of rush through it, "Hello Beckman, I then run into my gang... Motherwell, Rothko, and Kline, (they do always keep you guys together, don't they) Hello Anselm Kiefer... ah, Diebenkorn -west coast in the house." I rush through like I am collecting stars. "Got it, I see you- you are more than a color plate in a book, more than a name and date I had to memorize. You are real, you are a celebrity and around you I am nervous, but because of you I know myself."

Then something in me shifts, now I can relax- I can walk a little slower. I step up and into each piece, I breathe them in, I have my picture made with a few of them, as if it is the artist themselves. "Hey can you take a picture of me with Rothko over there."

I walk around and around the same section. I don't want to miss anything, I want to see the work one more time to make sure I really saw it. Just when I think I have seen it all, I step
into a little room off to the side, and I see a hint of something so familiar that it calls me forward. Oh, my... is that, it is... a Modigliani.

Tears come to my eyes, I am overwhelmed to see a piece of his in person, it is my first time. There has always been a Modigliani print somewhere in the background of my life, so he feels like an old friend. His portraits of women seem like family members to me. I am so excited to find him, it is a painting of a woman but to me it is him. I am standing next to the artist. I imagine his hands moving over the canvas, I imagine his sadness, poverty, sickness and struggles. His tragic life comes out as I look at this lovely and graceful painting before me. Is that why the tears come; because I know of his torturous existence, or do I tear up for the beauty and hope his painting represents? I hope while he was painting he was captured up in a good moment of his life, and transported away from any disappointments and regrets... The painting was made one year before his death. I wonder how was he feeling then, did he have any idea that his life would end so soon. I take it in and I breathe.

No one told me, I would meet you here.