Amazingly, I’ve heard as well as used every excuse written about why today isn’t a good day to be an artist. Everything from not being in the mood, too tired, totally burnt by a demanding career, its no longer fun when its turned into a business to always being introduced to people who love your creations blessed with horizon chasing visions but can’t find the nickels, dimes and dollar bills required to help you pay for the stifling price of the canvas and paint.
A newly designed modern art gallery in New Orleans loved, loved, loved my Charleston pieces, “Nothing’s captured the essence of the Ravenel Bridge like your paint brush.”
Two extremely important things should’ve served as giant stop signs in the core portion of the soils that keep my ego starving artist way popping up wild flower and grapevines:
1. A gallery from New Orleans wanted art that kissed the unforgettable beauty of my most favorite city Charleston…you don’t visit the Outer Banks of the Carolina’s to purchase works that resemble New York City. Collectors purchase fish pictures.
2. Nearly every bank in this great nation was folding, jobs were being tossed out like extremely hot over-microwaved kernels of popcorn—Gallery’s aren’t museums, you’ve got 90 days to make waves.
Although I did verbally ask on several occasions why the Charleston pieces seemed to be more important than the other expressions fed by multitudes of colors and subjects; the answer I kept getting back, “Because I love them.”
That’s the only thing an artist wants to hear, “I love them!”
Due to the recession the gallery opened nearly two months late totally missing the Fat Tuesday rush. Nothing moved which prompted an evil email from the owner who proceeded to tell me every reason why my art sucks will suck and should never be touched again. To which I gently replied, “I love it when my paint brush moves people into showcasing their true feelings. My job is done. You have been motivated to be great!”
Probably not the best thing to send…so I did my best to make it up to the gallery—I penned out a nice letter to the owner of the gallery: I’m so sorry to have taken up so much space during your incredible grand opening. I have found someone who wants the art…they’ll be in today to take it home for free. Please let them have it at 100% no cost. It’s on me.”
The strange twist to this creative mix up is what artist’s tend to miss when they’re completely focused on making a buck rather than releasing what they see inside to a world they may never meet. The woman that visited the gallery had seen my art via the internet and had spoken several times of one day owning a piece. I remembered she was from New Orleans…so I wrote to her and said, “You make me smile knowing you want what a gallery doesn’t need.”
I never heard from her until one day last year an email from her husband said, “My wife loved your Charleston pieces, she hung them by the windows believing she could always see that unstoppable bridge on the horizon. She passed away a week ago in the very room those paintings were displayed. Thank you for sharing your rainbow.”
I’ve heard as well as used every excuse written as to why today isn’t a good day to be an artist.
Everyday born is a new sunrise to chase and within its rays that reach from sea to sea there’s always going to be someone that needs your art more than you. It’s not yours to keep…you were born to share it. There’s never a recession inside someone’s heart when reaching to hold a reason to touch a sky seen by an artists eye. For what an artist invites is an act that spoken words can never explain therefore we try to communicate with paint.
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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