Just Say ... NO

This week's sermon is about the power of a simple, single word. The word is "No". It's amazing how useful and powerful that short two letter word can be.
I have a history of being a bit of a push over. In fact, I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've been asked as an artist to do something or donate something. Occasionally, it's for a very good cause and is sort of fun, to boot, but let's be real, most of the time you feel exploited. A case in point (without mentioning any names) is an art organization in a local city that had the audacity to send out a call for artwork submissions for their annual fundraiser. This very same art organization has refused and rejected me and many of my very talented friends too many times to count. But somehow, they felt comfortable soliciting art works and in the same breath, announcing how lucky you as an artist would be to pay an additional $50 for the privilege of attending and schmoozing at their event. Do I have this straight? They want freebie art donations and money so that you can attend and meet the people who just might buy your piece? Too creepy. I think I said "NO" to that request in several hundred ways...
But there are loads of things that I'd love to do- shows I'd like to submit to but I'd have to create a whole new work for... where do you find the time?
I frequently have the following conversation with artist friends: not only do we need to make the artwork, but we need to hold at least one job to support ourselves and our art habit and then we need to promote our work. Oh,. and we need to do all those other responsibilities that require time, attention and money like go to motor vehicles and register the car, wash the bathroom floor, shop for dog and pony food. The list goes on and on.
This past week, I owned up to the fact that between having made work for two entirely different but important shows, going to work (where we're always behind), running into New York/New Haven dodging snow storms to be present for important events and all those other family/friend related obligations, I am really tired and need to get back into my studio and start some of the ideas percolating through my brain. I said "No" to two offers that ordinarily I may well have agreed to. And I felt good. I felt happy and in control of my own time.
It also spurred me to start a whole new batch of work, loosely structured around the word "NO". The work above is only the beginning. And who knows? If I say "No" frequently enough, maybe i'll get to the point where saying "Yes" feels good again!

And Now For Something Completely Different... The Weather

This is a picture from that first brush with REAL winter weather.  Bob snow-blew up a storm (haha) on Saturday, clearing a swath wide enough for a HumVee to drive through. I think he may have mentioned it would be handy when this weather episode landed. And here it is! (No, those are not dog turds on the snow pile above. Just a few stray late blowing leaves).
Outside, it's what everyone is expecting and predicting: windy cold, snowy and just starting to accumulate. Perfect for staying indoors (if only Jules would let me- he loves this stuff.) and taking over exposed yellow pictures of the lovely blooming bulbs presented by friends.

Looks sort of Eastern European, doesn't it? We haven't gotten around to making a new curtain cover. Hell, I'm just trying to get back into my studio and make some more art. It's good to be working at a normal pace (whatever that is!) without attempting to finish pieces by a particular date or with a specific theme in mind. Although, I am still dwelling on images of financial calamity and fiscal doom. Plenty of room for exploration there! And I know the subject all too well. Hahahaha.
Bob and I went into Brooklyn yesterday, to meet up with a photographer and have my work documented. I also think it was important for me to see that my work is still hanging on the walls of Odetta Gallery and I didn't hallucinate the entire event. Yes, my work was still there and I even got to talk to some gallery goers and give them some insight into my process. (There are actually pockets of real people who go out and look at art. No kidding!) And despite what seemed like tremendous obstacles- yes, even in the controlled and rarefied environment of a gallery!- we got the pictures done. First it was the sunlight pouring into the gallery and creating incredibly uneven shadows, then it was one piece hung in a tight hallway, where it looks great, but was very difficult to get back far enough to shoot. But photographer Max Yawney did a splendid and meticulous job, adjusting and tweaking and spending all afternoon... He really did my work right. Here's a sample.

Even as a small image, it looks great! Of course, I can't share the squeaky toy sewn into the tip, but hey! At least you get the idea.

A (Miss) Peggy Lee Moment

Boy, did this screen capture come out pink and blue! There I am in all my splendor, just before the doors opened for "Pay to Play" at Odetta Gallery in Brooklyn. That's Ellen Hackl Fagan, artist/curator/gallerist (a woman of many hats!!) observing my shenanigans. Incidentally, there is a a squeaky toy sewn into the tip of my large "member" and administering a good squeeze is definitely encouraged!
Someday when I suffer from a surfeit of free time (like never) I will recount at length all of the chills/spills and thrills accompanying the setting up and opening. Suffice it to say that the opening was a premier event: lots of people (some friends, some new acquaintances, some evil), lots of Instagram moments, lots of paparazzi (thank you Eileen! for the above photo). I'm re-exhausted just thinking about it all.
However, I will partially recall one particularly salient episode. It was after eight (the ostensible closing time of the opening) and people kept drifting in. Several of us had an eye widening realization when a VERY IMPORTANT ART CRITIC COUPLE appeared. I suffer no illusions that they were there for me (and I am aware (again) of how fortunate I am to be showing with three gentlemen who are truly well connected.) but there they were, none the less. I was introduced and vague things were said, the royalty in question obviously happy that their royalty was being duly respected. I drifted off, knowing that they were deep in mutual nuzzle with the powerful, connected artists.
But a few minutes later, the male member of the POWERFUL ART CRITIC COUPLE was actually standing in front of and actually looking at, one of my pieces. I allowed him time to mosey down the long wall on which three of my works were hung, and then I approached him. Before I could even hazard a choice word or two (such as, "Come here often?" or "For a couple a thousand, I could send you home with one of these beauties!") he said (preemptively), "Love the work, but lose the specific reference words." I was like, "Huh?" He sneers, "Yeah, like "Sequestration". No one knows what that is, and no one cares". So I proceed to explain that I see part of my mission as an attentive artist to immortalize these phrases that pass through our news cycles and our everyday language and !poof! they're gone. He says, "Doesn't matter. no one cares." I started to respond but he moved off, But he dismissively tossed a "But what do I know?" over his shoulder. I guess I was supposed to melt into the floor and think, "But he MUST know! He's a very POWERFUL ART CRITIC!" I just thought, what a jerk! He was so cynical and so jaded...
But this is also a good instance of how Ellen is truly doing things right: she got the right artists in the right space at the right time. The POWERFUL ART CRITIC COUPLE did attend and did make odd critical noises- very impressive for a gallery that is only six months old!
I confess that after dining late and catching the next to last train home and walking a good ten minutes in a freezing sub-zero head wind and  scraping wind shields and getting tucked into bed at 2:00 am, it was exhausting but exhilarating.
It was Saturday afternoon, after too many video games and a bit of time to reflect that I sank into my Peggy Lee Moment, where I had to wonder, "Is that all there is?" In an effort to ward off the resulting post-opening depression that sneaks up and bottoms you out, I began that mad house cleaning that I have threatened for so long. I vacuumed and hung up jackets and put away the last of the Christmas tchotckes.
Today we venture back to NYC to have my work photographed. This will stave off the residual cobwebs of cosmic indifference. And actually? Having a show at a swell gallery in an trendy neck of Brooklyn is not a shabby way to start the New Year!

In Preparation

There I am, hard at work helping with a color check while my good friend (and fabulous photographer!) Carl Weese documents my equally fabulous piece, "Wage Slave". Some day I will relate the story of how my tour de force piece "Wage Slave" didn't make it into my show at Odetta Gallery; but that's for another day!
The show is up and looks... you guessed it- FABULOUS. I am, of course, in good company and the stars must have been lined up just right when Ellen Hackl Fagan, artist/curator/gallerist decided to show me and my showmates. Joe Amrhein, Rico Gatson William Powhida and I make quite the powerful statement. It's been an education thus far and the show hasn't even officially opened. Come on down on the 16th of January (from 6-8) and see for yourself.
I am also fabulously exhausted as Bob and I have been running around, dropping work off cursing the accursed snow gods (who deemed it necessary to drop several sloppy inches of that evil white stuff on us on Friday morning when we were due to be in NYC). Bob and I were delayed by several hours, but made it in to assist in set up. It was another of those million odd anxious moments that make up a life! But the show is up and looks... do I need to repeat myself?

But I did manage to steal enough time to create a "Mini Jules" on our bedroom carpet. Jules is a shedding kind of fellow and in our spare minutes, Bob and I can be seen performing an odd shuffle, raking stray gobs of Jules' discarded fur into furrows that we typically throw away. The other night, however, I saw fit to industriously fashion a shadow facsimile of Jules. Bob and I were entertained (and, yes, we are easily entertained) but I think Jules missed the point and failed to see the humor in it. Oh well! You have to have silliness in your life.