Lately I've been thinking about why I do my work......because the more I speak to other artists the more I realize the yardstick for "success" is financial. The questions I receive about my work are not about why I make it or the sensitivity of the work or the depth, or where the work comes from and what it means to me, and how the importance of the work must be attached to the connection between the viewer, the maker, and the work itself. Not any supposed connection between the viewer and the process - or any emotional depth the maker attaches to the work for the viewer's benefit after the work has been made.
Making a blanket statement about what your portfolio of work means is untrue and unjustified. Each piece has its own force, its own creative statement about who the maker is and its relationship to the world, and its place in it.
The questions I face about my work from other artists who "sell" are not about these things; they are "What galleries are you in?" "How much do you sell, or make?" "I've sold this much; so why don't you?"
Not realizing I think of my work in a totally different sense.
My artwork is a mental need. I need it to survive. My personality changes if I go without it for too long. It is surprisingly like my need for food.
I don't think of my work in a commercial, financial, marketable sense. It might be any of these things, but I don't know.
I try not to think about those things while I'm working. I let the work come from the place it wants to flow from. Most of the time the paintings I create look familiar in a sense, and are strange in another.
I am tired of trying to explain to other creators that they are thinking about my art with a jaded eye. I am tired of answering questions that have no bearing on my art and why I create it. If I sell, or get into galleries, fine. If not, I'll still create.
It's not up to me.
As long as the work comes, I'll still create.
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