Art Me

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Art Me

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Once I decided to get started making Art it’s all been downhill from that point.

What? Keep reading.

Deciding to put myself out there was my last resistance to becoming the Artist.

The tasks following from that first attitude then are—

A. to adjust my techniques

B. to practice

C. to have something to say.

Not so difficult. Open to everybody.

Any Art difficulties show up when I think I am climbing some kind of “Artist’s mountain” to achieve my “status”. The way is easy now from the top down.

I’m in Art because I can’t wait to see what I’m going to make next.

Art is—

So, Art is any product from the Artist’s actions.

Involving—

1. Content / Intention, the Artist’s ideas as presented

2. Color selection or combination / Contrast & Light in monochrome / Materials or media used

3. Design Composition

4. Commitment

5. Personal Mastery

So far, a decent gathering of concepts for me to begin to tweak my Art.

And—

A little guide for how I find my voice/style or what I like to make.

I cannot predict what will sell or how much money something I create is worth.

Someone other than the Artists determine Art values and worth, otherwise we’d all be millionaires.

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c. Lemuel

29 November 2018

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Q: How do I know when a painting is ‘finished’?

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Q: How do I know when a painting is ‘finished’?

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A: When I run out of paint.

A: The buyer pays in cash.

A: When I have to start a new painting. I have a rain slicker-like small work area.

A: When the rats eat it.

A: When someone steals my easel.

A: When someone pinches my easel and leaves the canvas in the alley with tire tread.

A:When my studio mates use my canvas to cover a broken window pane.

A: The Post-It ™ read, “Sorry, I was so cold. “ My easel, paints, brushes, and canvas are fuel.

c. Lemuel

07 November 2018

Making, the Art

My ability to learn is up or it is down, but sometimes it is “just right”.

Learning to Make anything takes practice. I get experience from practice.

If I try maybe I will have success.

Practice is the travel companion to Art (and anything really).

A finished work, price tagged and “re-homed”, gives at least two people, maybe the gallery too, pleasure.

No one sees my practice.

But it pays.

c. Lemuel

01 November 2018

Art, My Imaginary Snowball

My purpose for writing this essay is to address the notion of “getting on with the project of making Art and avoiding making excuses”.

Perhaps I have held the final snowball. I reached into a drift and squeezed snow until it compacted. Then I sensed everything I could possibly get from it.

I wanted the experience. I had expectations because I know snowballs. Really? How about, “What is Spring?” Not in 2018. The last snowball was in Spring (so far).

Spring brings buds, and blooms, and bugs. I have those experiences. Now snowballs. Maybe a new trend.

Like when I encounter other new things it’s a signal to refresh my thinking, to be ready for new circumstances, even taking charge of new opportunities.

Now, I start– now to do those three things and I begin with the notion I shall give no concern to other person’s evaluations of me. Not a question it’s an objective.

Since I cannot fathom the intentions or motives of others I will not pick up their opinions or evaluations or judgments either because the former go with the latter like old traveling acquaintances.

I expect nothing from others — not to be nihilistic or anti-social the thinking is merely my worth is not weighed on their scales.

It is not for others to bestow praise or awards or money, to become my imaginary snowball for sensing or measuring how well I may be doing in the way of my Art. I like praise, glory, money, and success. They’re not how I measure “me” and how well I’m doing is all.

On the other side, if I get derision, rejection, suffering, and no cash, I’ll still have a fairly pleasing Art collection and the prospects of making more.

The more involved I become in my Art the more I realize I am one of the few constants upon which I can rely. Sometimes it snows in Spring sometimes it doesn’t.

I’ll get praise and then a wallop from the other side too. It’s occurred over the same piece if Art, hot and cold, like a snowball.

(c) Lemuel

16 April, 2018

Essay

No Fear Art

I am letting you see my notes to myself.

Art, I mean real involved work has no place for the dross of fear. Fear destroys. You create.

Show your Art. If you hide not many will acknowledge your work. Do not be Invisible.

Set yourself free. You can if you set your mind, body, and soul into your liberation.

Be courageous. Put you into your Art. That is what people want. Your vitals and soul and brains and sinew. It is your story — make it the best story.

You are not a laser printer. You make the Art. You are the only you the world has right now.

Also do not work for free. Take the money. If you value your work so will others.

Set yourself free.

Be courageous.

Do the work.

Show your work.

Be fearless.

Go get ’em.

Lemuel

2018

Of Sky, a Bird, and Art

pexels-photo-101529.jpeg

 

In my county the cold clung to March with talons.

The sky was ice blue, more glacier blue, and ice crystal clouds played a game of crack-the-whip up next to space in the thin atmosphere.

I want to tear that picture from the sky, paste it in a scrapbook.

My paintings do no sky justice. The only hope I have is to rip the sky from the horizon and glue it on my canvas.

The air was cold but the sun was bright and made prisms dazzle.

A male Finch bumped my window a glancing blow. He was out cold, lying beak up, little feet curled as if perched.

I made a sick bed of a pasteboard box and a fresh warm towel.

I repeated, “You cannot keep a wild thing.”

Once warm and with no apparent damage the addled Finch stirred.

I placed the bird bed outside my window.

Soon the Finch flew—I almost missed its launch.

I knew that bird was back in the sky, part of a picture I had some small part in painting.

 

©2018