Unable to Do 'Simple'

So this post covers a couple of P.S.'s, like my Oyster Shell Sip-n-Paint class on the 4th and the local Member Show piece on the left, submitted the 6th.

I'll begin with the Sip-n-Paint, which was a terrific success.  I'm blurring faces so you can't clearly see their smiles, but trust me, they were there.

I enjoy this kind of thing, teaching crafts and simple painting; been doing it for decades.  Someone called it my 'comfort zone,' I suppose that's true.  It's not life-threatening (to anyone else) and supposed to be FUN, I remind my audience.

I was drinking water.

I began with, "How many have held a paintbrush before...or a pencil?  If you haven't held a pencil, I don't know what to say," and we were off and running.

"What inspired you to become an artist?"

Momentarily stunned into silence by this little girl's eloquent query afterwards, I had to quickly squash Amy from sarcastically blurting out,

"I was f____g starving!" which sounds like an oxy-moronic comparison, but it was true.  It took lots of hard work to become a Starving Artist.

So I answered, "I began with crafts; yes, crafting, which led to other things." (Left: the Mimosa Bunch)

In Puerto Rico I didn't speak the language so I couldn't apply for a job in my old field: Purchasing; nor did I want to.  That wasn't part of the dream.  But we needed money so I managed to clerk at a grocery store, stocking shelves and other duties; hardest work I've ever done for such little pay, not counting being an Artist.

Sip-n-Paint Birthday

In my spare time I kept practicing my painting and began selling pieces in kite shop Volantines.   THIS was the plan back in Oregon: me, painting on some island like Gauguin in French Polynesia.  I never expected to be baking 110 loaves of bread on a Saturday morning (my humble beginnings on the island, Parguera Then and Now.)

Varnished shells

I took a chance and applied to Michaels Craft Store in Mayaguez to become a European folk-art instructor, of all things, and they enthusiastically said, Yes.  Flying by the seat of my pants, certainly; but what I lacked in experience I made up with enthusiasm and encouragement.

And that's what I brought to our little Oyster Shell Sip-n-Paint.  A good time was had by all; for after all, it didn't cost them a dime.

I don't do this stuff on a regular basis, which probably has something to do with my enjoyment. That, and my livlihood doesn't depend on it.  It's especially gratifying to teach children, for they're free from any constrictions we learn as we grow up.

So I learned another skill, which I'm considering peddling to local hotels.  We've got loads of them and oyster shells and it sounds like a good idea, I know.  I could probably make some decent money and have already begun a flyer, but I'm still formulating what I really want to do.

But if money wasn't a crunch, would I still pursue this avenue?  And what price am I willing to quote?  There's loads of competition out there and I've had decades of trying out my 'good ideas' with plenty of compliments, limited success and, for the most part, poverty.  And let me tell you, it's exhausting and demoralizing.  At 70, do I want more of that?

So in which direction, I must decide, do I want my future to head?  After all, it's not as if I have all the time in the world anymore; but then again, as my old boss Marc would say, "You may get hit by a bus tomorrow."  Perspective.

I recently explained to a co-Workamper that whatever price I decide to charge for pieces entered in this years Member Show, the Arts Center gets 40%.  How much do I think I'm worth, or willing to settle for?  I remembered gallery partner Alberto, who made jewelry, decry, "Anything less and I give it away!"  Tourists were always bargaining in Puerto Rico as if in a Third-World Country.

I'd have time to decide, I thought, for my pieces didn't have to be submitted until some time in September.  I thought to get a jump on things and headed to Goodwill for a suitable framed canvas, they always have different sizes; matted; glass or no.  I explained to Rosemary what I was hoping to find and after less than 5 minutes met up with her to show off my treasure:  an 18" x 30" framed board, not a canvas (I hate painting on canvases).

I'll try to condense this:  I'd been looking at last year's show which, because of some delay, didn't begin until the fall.  I called the last week in June to confirm the September date, since I couldn't find the same page online, and was told, "No," this year's pieces needed to be submitted by Sunday, July 5th...no, the 6th...NOT in September.

Holy crap!  I knew I could get my idea down in about a week but that's with really hustling.  I'd decided, since the theme of the show was Pathways, that I'd do something I'd wanted to do for some time:  recreate the scene I painted on my teardrop (above), sold in '24, which was based on a poster hanging in my bedroom as a kid.  There was a hippie girl with a backpack, sitting on the curb, her back to the viewer - I can picture it as if it were in front of me now.  The expression was,

"I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way."

That was back in 1972 but the saying has unknowingly guided my path through life.  I've been thinking of that quite a bit these past weeks, and decided that though I may be poor, one breakdown away from living on the street, the intangible treasures gained throughout my rough-and-tumble life have served me well.

It may not have been profitable, but at least life hasn't been boring, and I'm not through yet!

Anyway, that was the plan.  So while simultaneously preparing my Sip-n-Paint, THIS spent most of the day sitting in the middle of my RV, just like my Seashell Mirror, this painting was in the middle of my life for over a week.  I've never claimed to be an exemplary artist, but I've got my own style which some find 'charming.'

I figured it would be easy since, technically, I've already done it; but it was never meant to be an exact replica.  I've tried duplicating my one-of-a-kind gourds and it can't be done.  It's not simply the paint and brushes, but the mood of the artist.  I'm in a different place now than I was when I painted the teardrop in 2021.

Bue before I could begin, I had to pull the warped board away from the frame, and then try and flatten it out.  I was about 70% successful but figured I'd staple the board to the back of the frame, I still had time to figure that out.

I've also been transcribing my journals from the Ruff Life days and recently found one criticism by the Captain,

"You paint too slow," uttered before a show when I had dozens of blank, carved gourds to finish in little time.

That's always been my problem as an artist - I can't do Simple; I simply can't.  Most artists would agree that it's tough to know when a painting is truly finished and when it needs a bit more.  For me that's after stepping away from a project for some time then coming back with a fresh perspective.

Only I didn't have the time.  So I'd sometimes get up at 2am to add details which needed drying prior to the morning's work.

"Enough is enough," I chided myself, "put it against the frame and see where you want to add meandering vines" out of the painting and on to the frame; I love painting trompe l'oeil, or fool the eye.

I wasn't going to varnish the painting inside of the frame so now one project morphed into two.  I was trying to create an extension of the wooden gate and kept shooting myself in the foot.  Yes, it looks terrific but it was a pain in the como-se-llama.

Here's the start of the ivy, at least the 'shadow' ivy.  The darker photos are the ones from the middle of the night.  I've also added the dove and more details on the plants in the front.

"That looks good," but needs more.

Shoot, why did I waste my time on the flowerpots, which I only covered up?  That's how I paint.

"STOP" Out of time plus the board's warping again.

Putting it inside the frame was a production I'll hopefully never have to replay.  The stapels were first too short but the longer ones held. Ka-Chunk, Ka-Chunk, all around the back.

But when I flipped it over I discovered some of the stapels came through the front.  HELL - good thing I allowed all-day Sunday (after the Sip-n-Paint Saturday) to assemble the frame.

I'd cover them somehow, but what about the back?  Will it go "BOING!!" in the middle of the show?

I'd located a 1" x 1" scrap in my closet and discovered it would work horizontally across the back - terrific!  Cut it and it was perfect.

Except on Sunday morning I saw that the scrap was actually spreading the frame.  I cut it a second time without measuring (I knw, measure twice...), I knew better, and yep, it was too short.  Went through this-and-that before sticking some Velcro pieces on either end; and then spreading wood glue along the edges. I hoped that wouldn't drip through to the front while placing my sewing machine on the back.

It all worked; I went to attach the hardware for the framing wire to my pre-drilled holes; which were now towards the bottom of the frame.  Turned out a large push-pin easily poked holes, I don't know what kind of wood that is, and I filled the first holes.

I covered the stapes, which were against the edges, with modeling paste and painted the patches to resemble moss; you can't even tell unless you ZOOM.  I liked the mistake-turned-interesting effect, and balanced it throughout the frame by streaking moss green.  Voila. 

Monday morning I dropped off "On My Way, a Self Portrait," along with Safari Carousel, painted 20 years ago; a better representation, I felt, of my ability as an artist.

Wouldn't you know, as I was signing in I saw a stack of colorful advertisements and the word Transformations.

"What's that?" I began when the docet said, "This year's theme."

"What happened to Pathways?!"

"That was last year."

I felt like an idiot, but as she reminded me, it isn't required to follow the theme, and besides, my painting would work just as well.

Now, after all this, how much would YOU charge?  I'm not telling, but I will say I'm not giving my pieces away.  If they don't sell I'm happy to keep them, since they are a couple of favorites.  Just hoping to Goodness the painting remains together throughout the show.