Hi, How art thou? This is a little story about art, punctuated with images of art that Kathie, Kory and I have created. In between all that, I share some musings about life as an artist and how invaluable the support of others are to the artists and the individuals constituting an art community. I do hope you enjoy.
As most readers of these articles know, art has become my life’s work. Creating art in the studio for my daily bread is something I always dreamt would come to pass, and thank the Heavens Above for that reality. It is fantastic that Kathie started creating art as well and that we both are able to create works of art from the heart not only for our self expression, but for everyone to enjoy. It really comes down to you, the person who appreciates art and has the desire to bring those unique expressions into your home or workplace. I don’t imagine I would be in this beautiful space where I can dream and turn those crazy thoughts into reality if it were not for those who have purchased my art and the loving, moral support of other artists, my Darling Wife Kathie, our super-friend Kory Dollar and a host of others too numerous to list here.
When it comes to the appreciation and patronization of the arts, as for myself, music, beautiful symphonic and passionately moving music is what I am most apt to consume. Music, in both listening to and creating, has brought me some of the greatest enlightened experiences of all. I must confess to never having much apatite for the quotidian pop scene or ever having been a devoted rock & roll guy. It is only when I hear something extraordinary inspired that I feel such an implacable emotional attachment to the composition and the artists involved that suddenly an all consuming compulsion will come over me to attend their concert or symphony and to own a copy of their performance.
Back in the good old days, for me, that also meant a trip to “The Record Store!” Yes, my youthful sprogs, there once were stores such as ‘Tower Records’ that sold only overpriced new records, there was no internet, no streaming, and of course to get there it was uphill both ways through two feet of snow (I also have a bridge to sell).
Back then, I was always dirt poor, so only after I scraped together the last bit of change, like a junky looking under the couch, or in the car ashtray or anywhere else to satiate that desperate search for dough, I would excitedly go purchase that little bit of happiness, that sliver of sunshine to help brighten a life burdened by timeclocks, labor and lower caste poverty. I would take that sacred disc of vinyl to my apartment, gently remove the plastic wrapping and play it again and again. Aaaahhhh……
Music has always been like a defense mechanism for me, a means to pierce through the melancholy and gray, a stratagem for holding at bay the angst-filled struggle of keeping a roof over my head, as an elixir, for a precious flickering instant, to help me forget that the car needs a new radiator or those bills that keep piling up or merely to shrug off the grunge of the days useless grind. At the end of the day, you may have found me sitting on a couch, lights dimmed, eyes closed, my mind shut off from all other distractions, immersing myself in the masterpiece of works spinning slowly and inexorably on the platter. With tears of joy just below the surface, how I would, if I could, swim through those soundwaves to hug the musicians and tell them how much the music meant to me, what I thought it signified and how it changed my life in some way.
Then, once the album had reached the end of its third play, after I’ve now transcended into a tranquil calm, I would feel better equipped to face the life ahead, damning those slings and arrows as I carry my shield of splendor with the knowledge, like being part of an inside joke, that there really is a world of peace and serenity, where people live on a higher plane, and I do too, for a moment, each time I recall the music that carried me away to another place. To be sure, I haven’t changed much when it comes to my listening habitué.
I say all that to say this; If I, in some small way, am able to bring a little bit of that happiness into somebody’s life so that when they gaze at a work of mine, they too can feel a moment of peace and dismiss the frenetic and arduous rigors of life, only then have I realized my objective. That is what art is to me, the connection between myself and the person who delights in my work, even if they had to, metaphorically, dig under the car seats as recompense to this blundering artist. Because of the path I have chosen, Kathie and I live a rather austere life, she thinks we’ve taken some sort of secret vow of poverty! We do appreciate all your support so very, very much!
As most people know, art creation isn’t as easy as it may seem, in fact it is long unpaid hours of trying to decide upon the many, many ideas floating about in your head, the limits of your materials and the constant battle against self-doubt. When building one of my glass enclosures for instance, before even cutting one board, I may ponder its design for several days, consuming copious amounts of pipe tobacco, pacing the studio floor whilst agonizing over every detail as to how to solve that enigmatic puzzle of fitting finite sized windows into a symmetrical pattern.
Every one of these tiny glass homes has to be distinct and inimitable, structurally sound, functional and yet remain charming. It has to be able to make a person’s eyes pop open wide upon first look. I imagine, hopefully, that the buyer will fall back on their heels when they behold my impossibly designed work of art.
So to you, dear patron of the arts, as a sincere artist, I never forget my goal, my inspiration as I turn that burning passion to create into something wonderful, not only for myself, but to bring joy and a bit of light into the lives of others. And to you who may have purchased or even complimented my humble efforts, I must express most profoundly, more than my bumbling words can convey, a very heart felt Thank You!
With love and gratitude,
Dave
"There are only two things that people ever buy," the CEO of a company I once worked for said. "Good feelings, and solutions to problems."
I'm an artist. Not a very good one. But it's important to me.
I am abnormally Left-brained. Logic, science and Reason rule my values. Machines make sense to me. People don't.
I might be autistic; I don't know. But the creative side of my brain seldom finds expression -- and, like autists, seems not to be connected normally with the rest of my brain.
This might be why music -- and sex -- has an outsized influence on me: it seems to me that I get a lot more pleasure / enjoyment out of music than most people.
Perhaps that's because its the only time my Right brain gets to come out and play.
I've tried the performing arts and I'm no good at it. I cannot act. I'm not very good at playing an instrument or singing, even after a lifetime of working on it.
Still, music takes me to a place where I normally cannot go. It's important to me.
Now, the visual arts is something I can do. Most of my creative expression is via photography. I'm halfway good at it, but not enough to make a living. Still, that is my passion, and the reason I get up in the morning. It is what's keeping me alive. Most of what I do is because I'm a photog. For instance, I'm a Jeep fanatic. But it's because I'm a photog: my 4WD gets me to places of immense natural beauty where most people can't go.
Maybe it works for me because photography requires a lot of Left brain activity. Things such as calculating exposures, and understanding color, and "darkroom" work (which is all done on computers these days, something at which I excel). There is a lot of technical stuff to the craft.
If only I could make money at it. But most people don't pay for good feelings unless you're REALLY good at it. I made my living providing solutions to problems.
So anyway, that's what art is to me. It truly is from the heart, and is the only way I can express that side of me.
Wow. That really is from the heart.
I have some things to say, also from the heart, about art. Can't find the words right now. I'll post it later.