I have loud arguments, often with myself and sometimes with others, about my work. As an artist newly seeking to make a living as such, I am swept into wondering if my pieces are marketable- and if so, to what audience and at what price point? Should I make prints, would stationery be a plus or minus, how can the work be taken to it’s lowest common denominator price point so that it’s universally affordable?...blah, blah, blah. Some say “Make work that the general public can relate to, that’s non offensive, not religious, not dark, un-pretty or upsetting in its message. Figure out light, bright, universally appealing content that can be produced quickly and sell that.” (Did ya notice how I said “produced” and not “created” there?) Yea, I’m feeling my inner light fade just reading that back to myself...
Just asking these questions is so dang antithetical to the creative process it’s mind blowing...life sapping really. Hefty is the price to pay if one is willing to sacrifice “voice” and opinion to swift sales. I am realizing as I sort through these issues, that art is so much more than a product to me. It is a mode of communication I use it to share who I am with others. I raise my voice with it, I point out what ignites my soul or brings it low. Isn’t this the true heart cry of all artists?
I remember when I started painting close ups of fruit and feeling like I could see a universe in the skin of a peach. The sheer amazement that God would take time and care to create such glorious tones, reflective of His sunsets and pastures, drove me to tears sometimes. The nests that I continually come back to as subject matter stir the maternal in me and make me more mindful as I engage with the natural world. That feeling, somehow, makes it’s way to the canvas. My work containing themes of sadness, desperation and loss are cathartic and important, not only for me as I cry through my days in the studio, but for others as well. I know the work resonates with hurting, lonely people, and even if it never gets sold, I still feel as though I have done what I was made to do by creating a visual bridge, an intersection where others can see themselves and their emotional experiences knowing that they are understood.
Predictability comes with a price, but so does not making the mortgage. Forging into this new world requires delicate balance but also tenacious vigilance that “voice” is not sacrificed on the market altar.