Losing sleep

Springtime — acrylic on canvas, 280 x 355 mm, 2014
Springtime — acrylic on canvas, 280 x 355 mm, 2014

I’ve spent the last few months getting my head around opening a shop online on Etsy and the day is almost here. Who knew it was going to be this much work?! If all goes according to plan, the official opening will be this weekend. I will, of course, make an announcement here and on Facebook : )

I’ve been researching like mad, making the hard decisions about what to sell and how to price them, painting new versions of old favourites (e.g. Springtime was based on this Shoot it, Sketch it painting) and, truth be told, losing a bit of sleep over it all… I don’t want the shop to become my reason for painting. I paint for the joy of it, for the tactile gratification of making something with my hands, for the wonder of stepping back (on a good day) and saying “I did that!” Keeping that focus is important to me. I’m also mindful of other people ― I find myself somewhere between the worlds of fine art and graphic design. I prefer a brief. I set them for myself all the time (hence the Shoot it, Sketch it posts and the In the style of… challenges). So why is opening a shop any different? I don’t know but it is.

I have also been rereading Steal Like An Artist, Austin Kleon’s ‘manifesto for creativity in the digital age’. It’s a wonderful resource full of advice, pithy quotes and encouragement. I dip into the pages from time to time and I am always rewarded. Let me give you an example:

“The manifesto is this: Draw the art you want to see, start the business you want to run, play the music you want to hear, write the books you want to read, build the products you want to use―do the work you want to see done.” Austin Kleon

Is it really that simple? I’ll let you know.

A truth

Villa 10, detail – ink and watercolour, sketchbook, 2009
Villa 10, detail – ink and watercolour, sketchbook, 2009

“Here is a truth: often a painting is done just so the artist can get to do a small favorite thing, or idea.  Entire paintings are done just to get to put highlights on a glass, or shadows on a lemon or sunbursts in the distance.  Whole landscapes are painted just to show a small flower in the foreground, or a water drop about to fall from a rose petal.  A moment of inspiration to render an idea, so simple a truth that it cannot be rendered simply, but surrounded by complexity of seeing our world, lest the idea be lost. When done, often the original intention of the painting goes unperceived to the casual viewer, but it is there.” Eight Decades blogging on StoryDoors

How to draw

I like painting at school – primary school drawing, crayon on paper, c. 1970
I like painting at school – crayon on paper, c. 1970

I was looking for a picture to illustrate today’s quote by artist Howard Ikemoto (below) and happened upon just the thing ― I found it in my one surviving primary school exercise book. And no, it’s not upside down.

“When my daughter was about seven years old, she asked me one day what I did at work. I told her I worked at the college ― that my job was to teach people how to draw. She stared back at me, incredulous, and said, “You mean they forget?” Howard Ikemoto